Poison

            

            “Leeeee! Lee!” Keiran shrieked, bounding up onto their bed from his shower, still soaked and naked. Lee gave him a look – one that was clearly concerned as to what he had done with his towel – and Keiran hiccupped and grasped Lee’s shirtsleeves. “Leopold! You hafta fix me, Lee!” he claimed, shaking his older lover.

            Lee made a face, about to ask why when Keiran collapsed back onto the bed with a loud, very exaggerated wail.

            “LEE! I’m /dying/! I’m dying Lee and I fear there’s nothing you can do about it! You’ll never want to be with me again!” Lee offered a conciliatory thigh-rub and Keiran melted into a whining, squirming puddle.

            “Care to tell me what’s wrong?” Lee asked him softly.

            Keiran wailed dramatically, looking up at him from hooded eyes. “Leeeeee. Lee, I have a horrible, itchy rash, Lee. On my bum, Lee! And on my thighs!” he wailed, reluctantly parting his legs so Lee could examine him.

            “I bet its herpes, Leopold. Isn’t it? Its herpes. Or Chlamydia. Oh my God, Lee. I have Chlamydia! My life is over. I bet I gave it to you, too. I’m so disgusting. I knew I shouldn’t have sat on the toilet at that place the other night, Lee.”

            Lee laughed despite himself and Keiran whined, shifting up and away, kicking out at him. “Yeah, you’re real fucking funny, Lee. Laughing at my misfortune. At least you have a home and a dog and money. I have to go live on the streets now and nobody will ever touch me again. I hate you. I hope you have it, too, Leopold, because you’re a jerk!”

            Lee grinned and caught his lover’s foot, tugging on it hard enough to tip Keiran back down into the sheets. He crawled up on top of him, effectively pinning him with his weight as he kissed him. “Stop it, you goof,” he purred.

            Keiran looked at him dejectedly. Lee kissed his nose, running gentle fingers down his sides. “Keiran, baby. Its not herpes or Chlamydia,” he promised. Keiran looked a little relieved.

            “What is it then, Lee?” he asked him. What could be /worse/?

            Lee grinned. “Keiran, do you remember yesterday? In the woods…hiking. And you thought the picnic spot we chose was perfect for fooling around?” he said. Keiran nodded at the memory.

            Lee laughed softly. “Yeah, not so perfect, kiddo. That lovely rash of yours? Poison Ivy.”

Mother

            Keiran glanced up at Lee from his upside down perch on the bed with a smile as the older man traipsed into the bedroom, a towel around his waist. He was still wet, his hair sticking up in amusing spikes and water running furrows down his skin. Keiran waved at him, watching him as he dried himself and finger-combed his hair.

            “You’re pretty sexy without your glasses,” he commented happily, waving at him in the mirror again – this time with his foot. Lee smirked back at his lover. “And I’m pretty much blind,” he countered.

Keiran shrugged, patting the space beside him, saying: “Well then I guess you’ll jus’ hafta get closer to see my pretty face.”

            Lee grinned at him but he shook his head, a definite no, as he tugged on pants over his boxers. Keiran huffed at him, snagging something from the nightstand and playing with it idly.

            “Lee?” Lee hmm-ed as he pulled a shirt on.

            “You’re pretty weird, Lee,” he told him, rolling over onto his stomach and fiddling with the thing in his hands. “You laughed at me when I wanted to buy those bracelets th’other day, but you wear this thing,” he said, looking up, holding up the silver locket in his hands and letting it dangle from its chain. It swung back and forth, pendulous, the sun glinting off its embossed surface.

            “Its pretty girly, Lee. All flowery and everything. You’re a bigger queer than I am,” he teased, swinging it around until Lee caught sight of the glint out of the corner of his eye and gasped quietly.

            Lee looked at him, eyes wide with disbelief and something that Keir recognized as hurt. He stopped swinging it so much and sat up a little bit as Lee took the few steps towards their bed to snatch the item from him angrily.

            Keiran held onto it, though, making a face – half-confused, half-teasing—and Lee stopped trying to pull it away when he realized he would break it. Keiran giggled and tugged it away from him.

            “Why do you wear this? It’s pretty weird, Lee, you gotta admit. A necklace like this? It’s one of the gayest things I’ve ever seen!” Lee’s face fell as he stepped back and Keiran giggled again. Lee’s frown changed at Keiran’s continued teasing.

            “Lee, seriously! You never take this thing off. Unless we’re fucking, but even th—”

            “Keiran Jordan Baird! Give that to me now,” he said, voice low and threatening. “You do not touch my things. Do not ever presume to go through my personal things, you disrespectful brat.  You have no right touching my things!” he scolded and Keiran released the locket when he saw the look in Lee’s eyes.

            Lee stepped forward and he caught the locket on its descent and he clasped it close, brow furrowed. Keiran pouted and broke into tears, kicking Lee hard as the man turned to finish dressing.

           

            “Fuck you too, Lee!” he shrieked, tossing a pillow at his retreating back. He watched him with a hiccup as the older man put the necklace on in front of the mirror and tucked it safely back into his shirt. Keir threw another pillow at him.

            “You’re stupid, Lee. Stupid stupid stupid!” he threw at him as Lee returned for his glasses. Lee frowned at him.

            “Don’t touch my things, Keiran. I mean it. Its rude and it’s a breach of my privacy. If I find you’ve touched anything else, you can resume sleeping in the guest room. Am I clear?” he asked.

            Keiran gulped and nodded, hiccupping again.

            “Okay! Lee, don’t be meeeeean!” he wailed, almost kicking out again before he caught himself. “I didn’t! I only touched that stupid necklace ‘cause it was jus’ sitting there! I don’t wanna sleep wifout you!” he cried.

            Lee sighed, touching the locket through his shirt.

            “Its not stupid, Keiran. Just don’t touch my things again. Alright?” he said. Keiran nodded, pouting accordingly.

            “Fine. I won’t touch any of your stupid things ever again.”

…

            As soon as Lee left for work, Keiran rummaged through his things. He knew Lee kept stuff in his nightstand and in his office, so he looked there first. The nightstand didn’t have much of interest – a photo album and a scrapbook of his university days as well as a number of official records and things. Diplomas and such. Nothing juicy.

            The office proved a little more fruitful. He found a box of old toys and baby clothes and a box of pictures, some framed and some loose. There were random things – like an old camera and a bunch of ugly old blankets and stuff, but Keiran just pushed them aside until he found a pile of cards and letters.

            There were three piles. One pile seemed to be official correspondence – after reading a few, Keir realized they were between the Dean of Medicine at the Strathroy Middlesex General Hospital where Lee worked, regarding his internship there while he was still in Med School. He set them aside – boring.

            The second pile was a mix of letters between friends and Lee and what seemed to be an ex-boyfriend and Lee. He read a few of those, grinning at all the things he could hold over his older lover now before he ran out of letters to read and picked up the last pile.

            They were all between Lee and an Amira St. James. The first were simple letters, exchanging pleasantries and well-wishes, always signed Ami or Amira, but as he read they more frequently were signed ‘mother’ or ‘mama’. He frowned, checking dates. As the years went, the letters got longer and more information was exchanged. Hadn’t they ever heard of the telephone? Keiran frowned, setting the letters down.

The years she wrote corresponded with the years Lee was in university – 1995 to 2007. Undergrad for four, Med School for eight. The last letter was dated April 6, 2007. Eight months before he’d met Lee. Not more than ten months ago now. She was in England, visiting family.

            In the letter, she expressed her excitement for his upcoming graduation. She could still remember him at his undergrad graduation. How sweet he’d looked in his cap and gown. How many pictures she took. And could he remember the look on his father’s face when they called him up for that award? Keiran smiled faintly.

            She signed it ‘with undying love and I’ll be home in a week, your mama’.

            Keiran grunted as he packed them away again. She seemed sweet. He almost couldn’t wait to meet her – his own mother he hadn’t seen in eight years. She’d been one of those snotty, well-to-do bitches, like the housewives of Madison County. Only she was a housewife of Warwick County.

            But Lee’s mother seemed lovely. From her letters, she sounded like she’d been a wonderful mother. He bet Lee enjoyed visiting her and his dad. He looked through a few family photos, smiling faintly. They all looked so happy, Lee and his sisters and brothers and his parents. He didn’t remember smiling in family pictures after he turned ten or eleven himself. He almost couldn’t wait to meet Lee’s family.

            He decided to get out of the office, not wanting Lee to find him there and get upset with him again for going through his things when he came home from work. He returned everything to where it had been and he shut the door behind him, feeling a little guilty.

            When Lee returned, he pestered him all evening with questions about his family and how many there were in his family and would he get to meet them soon? Lee wondered at his sudden curiosity but answered his questions dutifully until sometime after dinner when Keiran tugged the locket into sight and fingered its surface.

            Lee frowned, automatically touching his fingers to the necklace, brow furrowing. Keiran smiled a little, kissing his jaw, squirming in his lap.

            “When can I meet your parents, Lee?” he asked him. “When can I meet your mama?”

            Lee nuzzled his soft hair. “You want to meet my mom?” he asked him quietly. Keiran nodded excitedly, murmuring a quiet ‘yes’. Lee sighed.

            “Why don’t we go meet her tomorrow, then?” he suggested. Keiran grinned broadly, nodding. Lee tucked the locket back into his shirt and snuggled him close.

…

            The next morning, sometime before noon, Lee trundled Keiran into his car and took him to the flower market, picking out a bouquet of carnations – her favourite, he promised. She’d love them. Keiran shifted nervously in the passenger seat the whole time, turning the dial on the radio at least a dozen times before Lee turned the radio off and patted his knee.

            Keiran squirmed but fell quiet, looking out the window as they drove out past the little city’s limits. “Thought you said they lived in the city, Lee?” he asked quietly, looking up at his lover. Lee smiled faintly and Keiran resumed looking out the window.

            “We’re not visiting her at home today, kiddo,” he said softly. Keir frowned but didn’t protest as they drove a while longer until Lee pulled up to the little Protestant cemetery outside the city’s limits. Keiran glanced at him.

            “What are you doin’, Lee?” he asked. “Ick, your parents live near the cemetery? Creepy!” he declared as Lee slid out of the car. Keiran followed.

            “Where’s the house, Lee?” he asked softly, kicking gravel as he glanced around. Lee started through the rows of stones and Keiran followed him. “I can see her from here,” he said quietly and Keiran grabbed his hand.

            “Where, Lee? I don’t see anything!” he whined. Lee pointed to a row of gravestones a little ways off and Keiran frowned. “Lee, there’s nobody there. This isn’t funny!”

            He pouted when Lee kept walking and he followed after him, passing row after row of stones until Lee stopped. “This isn’t funny, Lee! Your parents are waiting. These fucking dead people could have waited ‘til later, you know. I thought those flowers were for your mother! Lee!” he looked up and gave a quiet gasp of understanding when he saw the stone.

            Amira ‘Ami’ Adelyn St. James.

From the letters.

            Lee’s mother.

            “Oh.”

            He stepped aside, hand to his mouth as he watched Lee place the flowers over the stone. His lover’s gentle fingers brushed over the name on the stone and tenderly pushed some moss growing up the base off.

            “Oh Lee,” Keiran whispered, taking a step away, feeling tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Lee sighed as he stood, turning to look at Keiran, smiling faintly. Keiran propelled himself into his arms.

            “Lee, oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he whispered. Lee rocked him in his arms for what seemed like a long time to Keiran, letting his lover hold him and run his fingers up and down his back, over his butt and then up to tangle possessively in his hair. He felt Lee crying softly against him and he clung to him, not sure what to say or do to comfort him but knowing he shouldn’t let go.

            When Lee finally pulled away, it was with a shaky sigh. Keiran didn’t release his hold on his arm, pushing back into his arms for a tearful kiss before he let Lee wipe away the damp tracks that lined his face.

            “When?” Keiran asked softly, stroking his cheek. Lee shrugged, nuzzling his hair.

            “Ten months ago. April 12^th,” he told him quietly. Keiran nodded sadly, brow furrowing. April 6^th, 2007. With undying love and I’ll be home in a week.

            “She missed my graduation,” Lee said quietly. “She was…she was in England with her sister, visiting. Her plane crashed,” he told him, frowning. “My graduation was the 14^th. We went to her wake right after. And the funeral was the 16^th.”

            Keiran hiccupped. Such an important time in his lover’s life and his mother not only wasn’t there, but she had gone out tragically at the same time. Keiran kissed Lee’s jaw, stroking his fingers through his hair apologetically.

            Lee released him to take the locket from within his shirt, slipping it off and offering it to Keiran. The younger man took it as if it was now a sacred item and held it close.

            “It was her’s. She always wore it, no matter what. My dad got it for her the day I was born…he said it was so she could always carry me around with her. It’s engraved, on the back. Part of a John Keat’s poem: I could be martyr'd for my religion; Love is my religion 
and I could die for that…I could die for you.’”

            Keiran turned it over and read the inscription, nodding faintly. “She kept a picture of me in it and one of my dad. Eventually it grew into a family picture, of all her babies, and one of my dad. She’d always match her outfit to the necklace. I don’t think she went a day without it.”

            Keiran frowned. “My dad gave it to me. At the funeral. He said it was mine since he got it for her because of me. They found it, on her…” he told him. Keiran nodded sadly and offered it back to Lee.

            “My parents weren’t ever rich, Keir. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up. There were five of us and my parents and neither of them had university or college educations. It was their /dream/ that we would. My mom was so proud of me,” he whispered sadly. “She was there every step of the way, helping me buy groceries if I ran out of money, helping me pay rent. We wrote letters, ‘cause I couldn’t afford to eat, pay rent, tuition, books and pay a phone bill while going through school. It was twelve years, you know. Undergrad, then Med School. And I wanted so badly for her to see me graduate finally…”

            Keiran hiccupped again and folded Lee into his arms, hugging him hard. Lee didn’t cry again, only held onto him clingingly. Keiran could feel the cold press of the silver locket on his neck as Lee hugged him. He sobbed a little himself, feeling useless and unsure.

            “Lee? Lee, I’m sorry,” he wailed, about the fact that she was gone now, that she hadn’t seen him graduate. About teasing him the morning before. “Lee, I bet she’s so proud of you, so proud. She’s prolly lookin’ down from heaven or wherever good people like mommies go and sayin’: ‘I raised a good kid. He’s my favourite and I’ll always carry him with me, even wifout that locket. And I’m so proud o’him.’”

            Lee smiled faintly against his shoulder, nodding. “And Lee? Lee, she loves you. And she’s prolly really happy you’re such a wonderful doctor, savin’ lives. And a wonderful lover, savin’ me,” he said with a nod. Lee nodded, hugging him tightly.

            “Keir,” he breathed, tugging back a bit to show him the locket again. Keiran frowned as Lee opened it. Inside, there was a picture of Lee’s mother, a beautiful picture of her when she got married, her hair all done up, her veil atop her head. Keir smiled faintly and took the locket.

            The other picture was one of Keiran, a recent one of him with a paintbrush in his hand, smirking vividly, paint streaked across his face. He hiccupped and looked up at Lee, and Lee smiled a bit and took the necklace back and put it on.

            “Lee,” Keiran breathed. Lee kissed his temple.

            “I know she’d love you, Keiran. She would have really loved you, like I do.” Keiran nodded, blinking back tears. Lee hugged him back against himself.

            Keiran stroked gentle fingers through Lee’s short hair, kissing his jaw. He felt Lee relax into his touch and he smiled faintly, relieved. “You miss her, Lee?” he asked softly. Lee sighed, nodding at the question. Keiran kissed the bridge of his nose.

            “Bet she misses you too,” he whispered. “Bet she misses you a lot. But Lee? You did pretty good, y’know. Wifout her. You did pretty good on your own, Lee.”

            Lee smiled a little, hooking his lover closer with a sigh. Keiran hiccupped as Lee caught his lips against his.

            “Thanks for coming, Keir,” he said quietly. Keiran squirmed against him, nodding. “I’m glad you wanted to meet her. I wish she was here to meet you for real, but I just know she’d love you, Keiran. I know it. And my dad’ll love you, too.”

            Keiran smiled at him, nuzzling into him quite readily, letting Lee hug him to himself. “When can I meet your dad, Lee? And your family, Lee? When am I gonna meet them?”

            Lee shrugged a little bit and Keiran followed him back to the warmth of the car, not pressing him. He turned the radio on low as Lee started for home.

            “Lee?”

            Lee hmm-ed softly.

            “Lee, you’re pretty weird. But you know somethin’?” he asked, reaching across to touch Lee’s hand. Lee turned his hand up to catch Keiran’s in a gentle squeeze. “I love you. I could live for that. For you.”

Sick

            When Keiran woke, Lee wasn’t beside him. He sat up, momentarily disoriented     until he placed himself—the guest bedroom at Ben and Eli’s house. He caught his breath, shaking his head as he slid out of bed, shivering in the early morning cold. He toed into slippers and sought out one of Lee’s sweaters before he went in search of him.

            It was still early, and although Lee was an early riser he hadn’t thought he’d be up this early, especially when on holidays. And in someone else’s house. Keiran would have been perfectly content to stay in bed until sometime past noon if he could. It wasn’t as if his lover had to make breakfast or anything. He crept past the master bedroom, glancing inside when he saw that the door was open. Neither Ben nor Eli were in there, and he had a nagging feeling that maybe everybody had already been awake for hours and had left him sleeping.

            He heard sounds coming from downstairs and he made his way down, ready to chastise Lee for leaving him sleeping. What he saw made him stop though, halfway into the door to the living room.

            Eli was curled up on the couch, throwing up in a bucket—which in and of itself was disgusting—with Lee beside him, rubbing soothing circles down his back. He was pale and crying faintly, Keir noted with a frown as his stomach did a nauseous little jump of its own. Ben was nowhere in sight, and Keir hiccupped at the same time Eli started retching again. His stomach turned and he covered his mouth with his hand, but not fast enough to stop the bile that rose up his throat.

            Lee looked up at the sound of him retching and cursed. Keir turned and fled to the bathroom, embarrassed at the mess he’d made and not sure if he was quite finished. Lee left Eli to follow his own lover.

            Keir huddled near the toilet, sobbing. When Lee came in and settled on the floor near him, he crawled into his lap and clung to him, burying his face in his chest. Lee kissed his temple, holding him close.

            “It’s alright, Keiran. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he cooed, and Keir hiccupped, sitting up and away, but it was just a hiccup and his earlier retching had just been him reacting to Eli’s puking. Lee tugged him close again.

            “You’re not sick, bunny rabbit. It’s alright,” he purred. Keir nodded faintly, snugged close.

            “L-Lee? What’s wrong with him?” he asked, still hearing distant sounds of Eli vomiting. He screwed up his face, trying to ignore the sound. “Where’s Ben?”

            Lee shifted slightly to close the bathroom door, knowing Keir was disturbed with hearing Eli. He rubbed his back gently, drawing his attention away from the noise of the living room.

            “I’m fairly sure he’s got food poisoning. That fish he had last night must have been bad,” he told him, running soothing fingers over his lower back. “He’s been sick since just after midnight, kiddo, and he hasn’t stopped throwing up. Ben went out to get some stuff—pedialite, soup and such. He asked me if I’d sit with Eli while he was gone.”

            Keir nodded faintly, hiccupping again. Lee didn’t let him move away, knowing Keir wasn’t going to be sick. He was working himself up to that point, but Lee wasn’t going to allow it.

            “Is he g-gonna be okay, Lee?” he asked quietly. Lee smiled faintly, amazed as always at his lover’s dual emotions—he cared about his friend while at the same time he was disgusted that he was getting sick.

           

            “Yeah, kiddo, he’s gonna be okay. He just needs to sleep and get some fluids in him. He’s exhausted and he’s still throwing up; he hasn’t been able to keep anything down all night.”

           

            Keir nodded faintly and gave a little shuddering sigh. “I’m glad I had lasagna last night. I told him not to get fish ‘cause the guy looked sketchy but he didn’t believe me,” he murmured. Lee chuckled, pulling him up to his feet.

            “Yeah, he was sketchy, babe. I’m sure he’ll listen to you next time,” he assured him, rubbing his back still. Keir leaned up on his toes to kiss the corner of his partner’s mouth and Lee hooked him close.

            “Alright, brat. Get back upstairs, please. Once Ben gets back, I’ll see about getting you some breakfast, but you’ve got a few hours left of sleep if you want. I don’t need you making yourself sick listening to Eli.”

            Keir sighed but he nodded and finally pulled away to head upstairs. He stopped when he caught sight of Eli again, still crying, bent over the bucket that he’d given up trying to hold onto and had set on the coffee table. He bit his lip and hurried up the stairs before his stomach flopped again.

            Lee tidied up the mess as efficiently as he could, keeping an eye on Eli on the couch. The younger man wasn’t throwing up but he was leaning over the bucket as if he couldn’t quite be sure and didn’t want to sit back in case he couldn’t move back quick enough. He looked up at Lee when he came back from taking the laundry downstairs, and he coughed, looking miserable.

            “Hey, kiddo,” Lee greeted, pushing his damp hair back from his forehead. Eli shuddered, letting Lee tug him back into the couch, and Eli settled against him, still shaking.

            “I’m gonna… pretend you’re Ben,” he whispered hoarsely, and Lee nodded, letting him rest against him, Eli curled up against his chest, between his legs. Lee pulled the coffee table close to make sure the bucket was in easy reach and draped the throw blanket over the young man, smoothing his hair.

            “Ben will be back soon, Eli. Try and sleep, okay?” He felt Eli’s weak nod against his chest and then the man shivered and snuggled close with a whine, one hand catching in Lee’s shirt. Lee hooked him close with one hand and watched the clock.

…

            When Ben returned, Eli had fallen into an exhausted sleep, shivering. He gave Lee a tired smile and Lee shifted Eli against Ben when the man had settled into the couch. Eli didn’t protest the move when he realized it was Ben he was cuddled against now; he let his lover hug him close.

            Lee got up to empty the bucket in the toilet, leaving Ben with Eli. When he came back, Ben had shifted them both so that he was more comfortably seated and Eli was stretched out, his head more or less pillowed in his lap. Lee set the bucket back within easy reach.

            “He stopped throwing up about fifteen minutes ago. I don’t think he’s got anything left in him, but he’s been going pretty steady. He only just fell asleep,” Lee told him. Ben nodded, his thanks evident in his eyes.

            “I picked up a bunch of stuff—chicken soup broth, ginger ale, apple juice, pedialite,” he said. “Do you think he should take something? Like gravol?”

            Lee settled into the chair with a sigh. “He can. It might help his stomach to settle.” Ben nodded, stroking Eli’s sweat-damp hair back from his face. His poor lover, he could feel how exhausted he was. He hated to wake him.

            “Hey, Eli, baby, can you wake up for me? I want you to take something, okay?” Eli moaned and cuddled closer, but at Ben’s persistence he eventually woke and shifted up shakily. Lee gave him a smile and went to get the gravol and a glass of pedialite. Eli gave it a glare but he swallowed the pills offered with a slow sip of the liquid. Ben soothed circles along his back, urging him to take it slow, keep it down.

            It was no use. Eli handed the glass off to Ben before he turned and vomited again, trusting Ben to hold him up as he limply clutched the table edge. He groaned and settled back against his lover, tears forming.

            Ben gave Lee an imploring look.

            “I have some suppositories, if you want to try it rectally, Ben. I give them to Keir when he’s sick and refuses to keep anything down… we can give it a shot? It’s painless and usually starts working pretty quickly.”

            Eli looked up at Ben with a frown, trying to convey his distaste but he only ended up looking miserable and pale and Ben simply leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Alright. We’ll give it a try,” he agreed.

            “Come on, Eli, let’s get back up to bed, okay?”

            Eli shakily stood, the blanket draped over his shoulders, and Ben collected him and the bucket to take back up to their bed. Eli moved along with him slowly, leaning heavily against him. Lee went to fetch his medical kit and he followed the men up to their bedroom.

            Eli moved closer to Ben when he saw Lee come in, shaking his head. Ben rubbed his back, making sure he stayed on his side. “Ben, Ben, I don’t want this. I don’t. I’ll keep puking, its okay, I don’t want this.”

            Ben smiled sympathetically as he watched Lee prepare the suppository, taking it out of its foil, denting the tip, rounding any sharp edges. He watched him put a glove on and Ben turned Eli towards him, tugging his pajama pants and his boxers down. Eli started sobbing, letting Ben position him with one leg slightly bent under him, still rubbing his back.

            “Ben? Ben, I don’t want this,” he murmured again, hiccupping. Ben stroked his hair back. “It’ll be okay, baby. It’ll make you feel better, trust me. Then we can try and sleep, okay?” Eli nodded, wanting to trust Ben but the feel of Lee’s hand on his hip made him sob harder. It was too intimate, too personal.

           

            “Ben! Please, I can’t!” he shifted away from Lee, and Ben caught him in his arms as he leaned over the bedside to throw up again. Ben closed his eyes, rubbing his back until Eli allowed him to pull him back up into his arms.

            “I can’t, Ben, I can’t,” he hiccupped, and Ben nodded faintly, exhausted himself. “Okay, its okay. I can do it, Eli; it doesn’t have to be Lee, alright? Shh, don’t cry now, baby. You’re alright.” Eli hiccupped again and snuggled closer until Ben extricated himself from his lover’s grasp and settled him back on the bed, positioning him on his left side, his leg bent under him.

           

            Lee quickly explained what he had to do and Ben nodded, his hand on Eli’s hip soothing, feeling his fear. He put a glove on, lubing Eli’s entrance and his finger and the suppository tip. “Alright, Eli, baby. Breathe easy for me, okay? Relax, Eli.”

           

            Eli tried to relax, breathing shakily, and when Ben was satisfied that he was sufficiently relaxed, he inserted the suppository, pushing it in as far as he could. He brought his finger back out and laid his hand on Eli’s butt, pressing his cheeks together.

            “Alright, we’re done, Eli. Good boy, you’re okay,” he purred, and he slipped the glove off and Lee dealt with the rest as Ben settled on the bed, face-to-face with his lover. “Hold that for me, okay? Just relax and breath slowly, let it work,” he soothed. Eli, tears tracking his face, nodded and shifted against Ben with a quiet whine. Ben wound his arms around his waist, rubbing his back calmingly. Lee returned to grab his kit.

            “I’ll let you guys try and sleep. Eli, kiddo, try and hold that in, okay? Give it time to absorb and hopefully by the time you wake up, you’ll be feeling a lot better,” he soothed, and Eli gave him a weak smile.

            “Ben, I’ll keep Keir busy. If you need me, just call me, alright?”

            Ben nodded, hearing the door shut behind Lee as the man left, and he gave a sigh of relief as Eli snuggled close and started into sleep.

…

Keir looked up when Lee came in, frowning. “Is he any better now, Lee? I heard him puking again,” he whined. Lee smiled faintly, climbing into bed with a yawn. He stretched out, pulling Keir from his seated position down against him, and his partner wriggled under his arm and snuggled close.

“Ben gave him a suppository,” he said and Keir nodded, nuzzling Lee’s cheek. “Hopefully that’ll kick in and he’ll stop throwing up.  He needs to get some fluids in him before he dehydrates. I don’t think Ben wants to take him to the hospital and he shouldn’t have to if Eli starts drinking soon.”

Keir sighed. “You’re so good, Lee. I wouldn’t be able to do that, be around when he was sick. I can’t even be around when you’re sick. I’m sorry. I bet you hate that…I’m so useless. Poor Eli,” he murmured. Lee smoothed his lover’s hair back, kissing his forehead.

“No, you’re not useless, kiddo. I can manage on my own when I get sick just fine. And Eli has Ben and myself. He’s fine.” Keiran frowned, but he nodded as he nuzzled Lee again.

           

“I’m sorry I was sick earlier. I didn’t mean to make a mess…I hope Ben’s not upset.”

Lee shook his head. “Don’t apologize, sweetness. I got it all cleaned up and I haven’t even had time to mention it to Ben yet. But I’m sure he’ll understand.” Keiran nodded faintly.

“Do you think Ben would mind if we got some breakfast, Lee? I’m starving!” he whined after a moment. Lee chuckled.

“Nah. Let’s go down and eat something.”

…

Ben woke up a few hours later, Eli pressed close to his side still damp and sticky with sweat. He rolled away from the man with a yawn, padding into the bathroom to get a cloth, and when he came back, he wiped his face with the cool thing and changed Eli into some fresh sweatpants and a t-shirt. He didn’t wake.

Ben lay the sheets up over his exhausted form and went downstairs to make himself something to eat. It was almost three in the afternoon—he remembered giving the suppository just after ten-thirty; he’d slept a while. He spotted Lee and Keiran in the living room, Keir spread out on the couch with his head in Lee’s lap, watching reruns of Jeopardy. He detoured there first.

Lee gave him a smile when he saw him. “How’s Eli?” he asked. Keir stirred in his lap.

Ben settled on the coffee table with a little smile of his own. “He’s sleeping, still. He hasn’t thrown up again, which is good. When he wakes up I’m going to get him to drink something, but he’s out of it, right now.”

Lee felt Keir squirm away from him, sitting up with a yawn. He tried to tug him back down but the man got up and moved to hug Ben. Ben was momentarily confused, but he hugged the younger man back.

“I hope he feels better soon, Ben,” he murmured. “I hate being sick and I bet Eli does too, and Lee always takes care of me when I’m sick so I’m glad Eli has you guys to make him feel better because I threw up when I saw him throwing up and it was really gross and Lee had to clean it up and I didn’t mean to make a mess, but I did and I hope you’re not mad at me.” He stopped to catch his breath.

Ben’s eyebrow rose marginally. Keir pulled away from him and clambered back onto the couch. “Its alright, Keir. Eli’s gonna be fine. And you’re right, he has both Lee and I to make sure of that. I’m sure he doesn’t expect you to be around when he’s throwing up—it is kind of gross.” He gave him a sincere smile, leaning close to ruffle his hair. “The amount of times Eli’s thrown up on the floor or the cat’s peed, it really doesn’t bother me if you made a mess,” he assured him. “I didn’t even notice.”

Keir smiled, flushing slightly, nodding as he was assured of the acceptance of his apology. Lee tugged him back down into his lap.

“I’m gonna grab something to eat, and I guess I’ll join you guys in here for a while if you don’t mind,” he said, getting up. Lee gave him a little nod and he finally went to make himself a sandwich and tea.

“Ben!”

Ben moved to the bottom of the stairs when he heard Eli’s shout and he gave the man a sympathetic frown when he saw him, huddled in a blanket, pouting, at the top of the stairs.

“Hi, baby. I’ll come up in a second, alright? Go get back in bed; I’ll bring you something to drink in a bit.” Eli watched him walk away, but he didn’t move to go back to bed so when Ben went back up, he was still sitting at the top of the stairs.

“C’mon, kitten. Bed, now,” he purred. Eli let Ben usher him back to bed, and he handed him the glass of pedialite. “Drink it slowly, please.”

Eli took a few tentative sips of the drink, watching Ben as he ate his sandwich. The prospect of food made his stomach lurch, but he didn’t feel as sick anymore and he kept the drink down. “I’m sick, Ben,” he whined, leaning against him, legs tucked under him, glass in hand. Ben smoothed his hair back, kissing his forehead.

“I know, baby. I know you are. Lee thinks its food poisoning, from the fish you had last night. It could be salmonella. But at least we got it under control, eh? Though I think you’ll be feeling pretty sick for a few days. Maybe not throwing up or anything, but weak and tired.”

Eli whined pathetically, leaning into his lover a little more, and Ben hooked him closer. He made him take another sip. “Can I sleep again?” he asked, and Ben kissed his forehead.

“Yeah, babe. Take a few more sips and then you can lie down a bit again.” He made sure he took another couple of sips and then Eli tiredly crumpled back into the blankets, letting Ben tuck him in and adjust him so that he was comfortable, too tired to care. He leaned down to kiss his temple, smoothing his hair back, and stayed with him until he fell asleep.

…

            Ben finished his sandwich and took the dishes downstairs to wash, leaving Eli’s glass, still more than half-full, on the nightstand. He left him with a cool cloth and the window open a crack to let the cool March air in. Lee had changed the channel to some soap opera or other for Keiran—one that Eli liked as well, Ben noted—and he had settled into the arm of the couch. Keir was busy drawing between his legs, his sketchpad open and pencil moving. When he saw Ben, he smirked and hid the picture.

            Ben dropped into the armchair with a sigh, closing his eyes.

            “He’s sleeping again,” he murmured. Lee nodded, smoothing circles over Keir’s shoulders. “He drank almost half of the stuff I gave him.”

            “That’s good,” Lee assured him. “Hopefully he can keep that down and then by tomorrow you can start him back on solids,” he said. Ben nodded faintly, hoping that would be the case. Lee groaned as Keir shifted off of him, with his sketchpad. Ben opened his eyes and watched him head for the stairs.

            “He was drawing a picture for Eli,” Lee informed him. “I think he’s just gonna leave it on the nightstand for him.” Ben nodded; he was fairly certain Eli would sleep through anything, anyways.

…

            Keiran crept upstairs, his sketchpad in hand. He pushed the door to Ben and Eli’s bedroom open and stepped in as quietly as he could. Eli didn’t stir as he moved to the bed and settled beside him. It was cool, but Eli had kicked the blankets off and was curled up on his side, making quiet noises in his sleep. Keir carefully readjusted the cloth on his forehead.

            “I drew you a picture,” he said softly, carefully ripping the page out of his sketchpad and setting it on the nightstand. Eli stirred then and he turned back, unsure what to do.

            “Ben?”

            Keir shook his head, frowning. “No, Eli, its Keiran,” he told him quietly. “I just came to see if you were okay. How’re you feeling?” he asked. Eli’s brow furrowed and he curled up more into himself.

            “Sick,” he whined. “I’m sick. And thirsty,” he added as an afterthought.

            “You’re thirsty? Sit up, drink some of this,” Keir urged, snagging the glass off the nightstand. Eli tiredly sat up and drank a few sips of the liquid. He caught sight of the picture by the side of the bed and looked at Keir.

            “What’s that?” he asked.

            Keir smiled, grabbing the drawing to show him. It was a sketch of Ben, sitting up in bed with Eli curled against him, his face buried in Ben’s side. Ben looked both concerned and affectionate and Eli looked miserable and exhausted as Ben read to him. It was a beautiful drawing and Eli shakily handed it back to Keir.

            “I didn’t know you were sick in the night. I thought you’d had a nightmare and Ben was reading to you to help you sleep. I didn’t mean to look; I just saw it through the door when I went to pee last night. Lee reads to me sometimes, too, when I’m sick. Or he draws with me. I thought…I hope you don’t think it was rude of me.”

            Eli smiled faintly, shaking his head. “It’s beautiful, Keir. If you give it to Ben, he’ll put it up somewhere, I bet,” he said. “Thank you,” he added. Keir blushed, smiling at the praise.

            “I like drawing. I drew the kitty, too,” he said, opening his sketchpad to show Eli. There were pages full of numerous things he’d sketched since their last visit over New Years.

There were sketches of their dog, Chester, and Lee doing various things—from making dinner to sleeping on the couch. The newest set involved sketches of the house—the living room, with Eli and Lee playing cards at the coffee table while Ben tried to watch the news, dinner the night before, Ben turning to kiss Eli’s temple after Keiran had made a crack at him. The cat, stretching on the back of the couch, eating leftovers from Keir’s breakfast, sleeping on Lee’s feet the night before.

“Keiran, these are really good,” Eli murmured, turning the page. Keir grabbed it back, laughing. “You don’t need to see that,” he told him, flipping through the next few pages, flustered. Eli took the sketchpad back, but there was only one more picture of Lee and Eli on the couch, Eli throwing up in his bucket. Eli made a face and handed it back, shaking his head at the reminder.

“Gross. What were the ones before it of?” he asked with a teasing smirk, but Keir wouldn’t give up the sketchpad again. Eli didn’t fight long before he’d exhausted himself and he reached for the glass again, taking a few sips.

“Wanna stay up here for a bit?” he asked when Keiran returned the glass and the sketchpad to the nightstand. Keir smiled, nodding and Eli nestled back into the blankets. Keiran hesitated a moment before he leaned close and kissed Eli’s forehead like he’d seen Ben do and he cuddled close to him, pulling the blankets up. Eli smiled faintly, eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I got sick while you guys were here. We had so much stuff planned and we were gonna show you the city and take you to our favourite places, and then I had to go and ruin it,” he whined. Keir shook his head.

“No, you didn’t ruin it! Lee and I still had fun, Eli. And we’re still here for a few days, so its not like we’re not gonna have time for anything. You’re almost better already!” he said with a grin. Eli chuckled, nodding.

            “I guess so.” He sighed shakily, curling up a little tighter on himself. “Keir? When you’re sick, does Lee make you take those suppositories all the time?” he asked, blushing. “Ben gave me one today and it was weird. I don’t like them, and Lee was gonna do it, but I was scared and so Ben did it instead. Does he do that all the time?”

            Keir shrugged. “Not all the time. But most of the time he does. I don’t like swallowing pills…I have a horrible gag reflex. I can’t even…well, you know. Not that Lee cares, of course. But I can’t swallow stuff well. And I get sick if I even hear someone vomiting…I can’t help it. Its just so much easier for Lee to give it to me the other way, I guess.”

            Eli made a face. “I don’t like it,” he said with a whine. “It felt…weird. Not just that it was Lee doin’ it at first, but the whole thing…I don’t want Ben to do it again.”

            Keiran nodded. “I don’t know. It was weird at first, but I find it easier now. And Lee doesn’t make it awkward, you know. He’s good at that sort of thing. I mean, obviously it’d be kinda weird for you ‘cause he’s your friend and all, but he is a doctor, y’know, and he would have been totally clinical about it.” He nodded assertively.

            “I think it takes more trust…’cause you have to kind of give up your dignity and just let him do it, you know? But when I’m sick, I know I pretty much don’t give a crap anymore and I just want something to make it all stop. And if that means taking it up the butt and letting him have that, I am all for it.”

            Eli laughed softly, shaking his head. “I guess I am glad I’m not throwing up anymore. I hate throwing up. And Ben didn’t get much sleep, ‘cause he was staying up with me, so I bet he’s glad I stopped throwing up, too. I guess if he wants me to take them that way again, I could do it…”

            Keiran nodded, smiling at him. Eli pressed the cloth to his forehead. “Ugh, I feel so gross,” he groaned, closing his eyes. Keiran frowned, knowing the feeling. He stayed with Eli until he started to drift off, and Ben came up to check on Eli.

He found Keir still in bed with his lover, half-asleep himself. Eli’s hand was over Keiran’s as he snored softly. Keiran stirred when Ben moved up to the bed, looking up at him. Ben smiled, leaning down to kiss Eli’s temple, smoothing his hair back. Eli moved into the touch with a sleepy moan and he replaced the washcloth, kissing him again.

Keiran yawned, slipping out of the bed. Ben hugged him as he passed him, sketchpad in hand. Keir leaned into the hug. “We were talkin’,” he informed him.

“Lee’s looking for you, kiddo. I think he got sick of cuddling me,” Ben teased, and Keir laughed softly, nodding before he took off for the stairs to join his lover back on the couch.

Ben took Keir’s place in the bed and snugged Eli close. His lover breathed shakily as he settled against him, fitting into the curve of Ben’s body familiarly. He nuzzled his chest, making a quiet noise of pleasure as he pressed his forehead to Ben’s shoulder, the cold washcloth between his skin and Ben’s shirt.

“Ben?” Eli mumbled into his shirt. Ben’s fingers tangled in the man’s damp hair. He kissed the crown of his head. “Yeah, baby. I’ve got you,” he purred. Eli sighed, winding one arm around Ben’s neck and pinning him there.

“Can you make sure I never eat fish again?” he asked him, very seriously. Ben chuckled, hooking his arm around Eli’s waist. “Yeah, kiddo. Never again,” he promised. “I guess there are some times when it’s good to listen to Keiran, eh? At least when it comes to food, anyways. I wouldn’t trust his judgement on much else,” he said with a teasing smile, smoothing circles over his lower back.

Eli shrugged. “Maybe some things, Ben. Some things. Food, and trust, and being clinical. Not swallowing, though. He’s got too much of a gag reflex.”

Ben’s brow furrowed. “What?” he asked, clearly confused, but Eli was already mostly asleep and only murmured “ask Lee about blow jobs,” and drifted back into sleep, warm and comfortable against his lover.

…

            Lee hooked Keiran close, kissing his temple as the younger man settled against him to draw again. He had turned it to a half-finished page—one of the ones he hadn’t been willing to show Eli—and started working on an unfinished piece of Lee, lying naked on their bed, his glasses askew as he slept, the sheets tangled in his feet, his book upside down on his stomach.

Lee looked over his shoulder at the page, smirking. Keir turned his face up to kiss his jaw when he sensed his lover was looking at the picture. Lee kissed his nose in return.

“Have you ever drawn me with clothes on?” he asked teasingly.

Keir scoffed. “Of course not. You and Ben are always naked in my drawings and Eli and I wear clothes,” he said, shaking his head. Lee kissed his temple.

“Okay. Just making sure. I guess it’s that whole Tops are so sexy thing, isn’t it? You and the authority, brat. I’ll never understand it.”

Keir flipped the page to show him the very last page, one he hadn’t shown Eli. He had drawn it while they were visiting, but the moment hadn’t taken place there.

It was a picture of Lee, fully clothed, glasses fallen down his nose as he watched Keiran, head pillowed in his lap, his hand in his hair. Keiran was staring back up at him, eyes wide in the drawing, one hand reaching to tug him down for a kiss.

Lee smiled, amazed as always at the attention to detail in his lover’s art. He ruffled his hair, kissing the nape of his neck.

“Why this moment?” he asked softly. Keir shrugged, closing his sketchpad and turning in his arms. He kissed his jaw, stroking his cheek.

“Because. You’re perfect,” he said softly. “And you’re mine and I felt like you were all mine then. Just you and I, at home, together. Nobody else. You don’t think its weird that I can’t swallow or give you blow jobs or that I need to take medicine rectally or that, um, I get sick easily. You just love me and I wanted to draw that.”

Lee nuzzled his cheek, kissing him fully. Keiran snugged close, arms around his neck, feeling Lee’s hands around his waist.

“You told Eli you couldn’t swallow, didn’t you?”

Keir shrugged one shoulder delicately. “Maybe?”

He felt Lee’s laughter rumble out of his chest, and he smirked.

Upstairs, he heard Ben laughing.  

Accident

            “Lee! Lee, look what I found!” Keiran shouted, racing off the path and up out of the forest. A picnic table stood alone against a backdrop of blue sky, white clouds floating lazily. Keir moved to the edge of the cliff—some thirty feet up—and looked out over the lake below.

            “Lee, its so beautiful up here! Come look. I can see the cottage from up here!”

            Lee laughed softly at his lover’s excitement. The last time they had been here had been a family affair and Lee hadn’t had time to bring Keir up here. He set their picnic things on the table and moved to join the younger man at the edge, tugging him back a step, protectively. Keir snuggled close, not noticing the gesture.

            “It is lovely, Keiran,” he agreed. It was a perfect day—blue skies, rolling waves, just warm enough. “But its dangerous up here. Maybe after we eat, we’ll go down and swim for a bit, okay? Chester would probably like to go in the water.”

            Keir nodded eagerly, excited at the prospect of bringing the dog down to the lake, and he squirmed out of his lover’s arms. “Okay, Lee!” he saluted. Lee stood at the edge a moment longer, but when Keir called him, he started back towards him, ready to eat.

            Keir practically bounced through lunch, eating everything Lee had given him as quickly as it was put on his plate. He helped himself to seconds. When Lee told him to slow down because the food wasn’t going anywhere, Keir pouted, chastised, but ate no slower.

            “Can I jump off the cliff, Lee?” Keiran asked from the edge of the picnic table bench. Lee stood to clean up their dishes.

            “No. Its too high, bunny rabbit. You’ll get hurt,” Lee said, in a tone that Keiran knew all-too-well—Lee would not accept any arguments.

            “I used to do it at home, Lee. I did! When we went to my granddad’s cottage, all of us would jump off the docks or the cliffs into the water. And we never got hurt, Lee! Not once!”

            Lee looked at him and Keir’s smile faded. “We’ve got docks down there, Keir. And a slide. Feel free to jump off those,” he said, shaking his head. Keir watched him as he tidied up and murmured, just loud enough for Lee to hear: “you’re being stupid, Lee.” He chose to ignore it.

            Keir was patient for a few moments, until Lee finally told him that he could put his bathing suit on. The younger man yipped and took off for the path, not waiting for Lee.

            By the time the older man had made his way down and found his own suit, Keir was already in the lake, climbing up onto the dock. Lee hurried to join him, not wanting Keir to have all the fun. Their Irish Setter, Chester, was already playing along the shore, trying to follow Keir up onto the dock. Lee found him a stick and tossed it out, wading into the water alongside the dock.

            “Lee! Lee, look! Look Lee!” Keiran shouted, and when Lee finally looked up at him, Keir launched himself into the water off the dock, somersaulting in. When he surfaced, he splashed Lee playfully. “Oh, you brat! I’ll get you for that!”

            Keir shrieked, swimming away. Lee chased after him.

            After a while, Lee simply began to swim leisurely. Chester had tired himself out chasing his stick down and Keir was getting sick of diving off the dock. He had experimented new techniques for the better part of the last twenty or so minutes and was sick of the lack of height he had to work with.

            He swam away, towards the shore, and Lee, thinking he was going for a book or something, didn’t stop him.

            Keiran headed straight for the cliff. Lee wouldn’t even be able to be mad at him once he saw how awesome a dive he made! Maybe he’d even join him! It seemed to take forever to get there, but he made it. He surveyed the water beneath him—it was a far drop, but not too much higher than he remembered jumping from as a child.

            He caught sight of Lee and his stomach did a little flip of uneasiness, but he pushed it aside. He waved and shouted to catch his lover’s attention.

“LEE! Lee, look at me! I’m gonna DIVE!” he shrieked. From that height, he couldn’t see the look of fear on his older lover’s face, couldn’t know that Lee’s heart had dropped into his stomach, couldn’t hear the shout to ‘get down from there NOW!’ that the wind carried away.

            He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and when he opened them he saw Lee swimming towards the cliff-bottom.

            And then he jumped.

            Lee knew before he hit the water that Keir had jumped wrong. He had started in a dive but halfway through curled up in a cannonball. He heard the shriek as he hit the water and Lee was on the shore, running, before the man had surfaced.

            When Lee reached him, Keir was beyond hysterics. The right side of his face was scraped up and bleeding, from his forehead to his chin where it had met with rocks on the lake bottom. But Lee was more concerned with the blood that was swirling around them as he tugged Keir towards the shore.

            “Keiran, what else hurts? What’s bleeding?” he asked. Keiran clung to him, arms around his neck so that Lee was practically carrying him out of the lake. He was sobbing and apologizing and cursing in equal measure, and Lee carefully helped him settle on the shore. Keir crumpled, sobbing into the sand.

            Lee knelt beside him, looking him over to make sure nothing was hurt. Besides his face, there were bruises forming on his chest and side, but Lee quickly became concerned with his left leg. “Shit. Keiran,” he cursed under his breath, and he tried to soothe his lover when he turned to look at it and ended up retching beside himself.

            “Crap. I need to get some stuff, Keiran, okay? Stay here, babe. I’ll be right back.” Keir, trying to be brave, nodded, and Lee took off for the cottage. Chester followed him, barking, and he ordered the dog back. When he had found the first aid kit and a blanket and returned, Chester was lying beside Keir, licking his face, and Keiran was crying into his fur.

            Lee settled beside him again. Keir turned to look up at him, his face pale, and Lee wrapped the blanket around his shaking form. He murmured nothings to him as he went to work on the leg. The cut was jagged and ugly, running from his knee to mid-calf, and it was still bleeding. Keir screamed minimally when Lee cleaned it, and the dog whimpered as his owner pulled his curly fur nearly out, but he didn’t move.

            “Keir, we’re going to have to go to the hospital,” he said as he wound a bandage around it to staunch the bleeding. “Do you think you can walk?”

            Keir looked at him imploringly. “Lee, Lee, you’re a doctor. You c-can do it, can’t you? Lee, I can’t walk, it hurts and I’m cold and I want you to fix it!” Lee smoothed his hair back, noting the fear, and he leaned down to kiss his forehead.

            “No, bunny rabbit. I don’t have enough here to do it myself. It’s deep and there could be stuff in it. I don’t know what you cut it on. You’ll need a tetanus shot and stitches. I can’t do that here. We’ll go in the car, I’ll turn the heat on for you, come on, baby,” he soothed.

            Keir didn’t help much. As soon as any pressure was put on his leg, he’d start sobbing again or he’d go limp or crumple against Lee, so that eventually he simply scooped him up in his arms and carried him back up to the car. He got him settled in the passenger seat, took Chester and the first aid kit inside, and returned with another blanket for his lover. Keir cried the whole way to the hospital, which was nearly a half hour drive.

           

            By the time they had arrived, Keir was almost in hysterics again, although he was tired out and his sobbing was more or less just for show. Lee pulled rank on one of the ER doctors and had Keir admitted right away. They gave him a tetanus shot, cleaned out his leg—bits of glass and sand—and stitched him up, all amidst his crying.

            By the time they had finished with him and released him, Keir was tired out. He leaned heavily on Lee as they headed out to the car and he curled up in his seat, pale and shaking still as he cuddled into the blanket. He kept murmuring that he was sorry and he had been stupid and he should have listened, but Lee only told him to hush, they’d deal with that later.                        

            Chester met them at the cottage door and Lee ushered Keir into bed. He was met with minimal complaints and his lover was asleep in no time. Lee busied himself with tidying.

…

            The next couple of days, Lee forced Keir to take it slow and he was only allowed out as far as the porch. He stopped apologizing, thinking Lee was simply going to forget about it. His leg was healing nicely, though he knew he’d have an ugly scar, and his face had scabbed, making him look like some sort of burn victim or something, but he knew it would heal.

              

It was three days before Lee called him into the little living space of the cottage. Keir limped in, looking at Lee questioningly. When he saw the paddle, his stomach jumped, and he tried to back out. Lee crossed the living room in a few steps and pulled him into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“I think you know why I’m about to paddle you, Keiran,” Lee started. Keiran pouted, tears threatening.

“Because you’re stupid. And you hate me!” he exclaimed and Lee caught his hand, keeping him in place before Keir hit him. “Enough. Why am I going to paddle you, Keiran?” he asked.

Keir shook his hand loose. “Because you hate me. And I’m stupid.”

Lee turned him and swatted his butt, hard. Keir twisted back. Lee waited.

Keiran gave in. “’Cause I did something stupid and dangerous, Lee. ‘Cause I jumped off the cliff when you had told me I couldn’t, ‘cause it was dangerous and it was too high for jumping and I didn’t mean to get hurt, Lee! You can’t punish me for getting hurt!”

Lee tugged him between his legs, pinning him there. Keir looked at him with a frown, hands on Lee’s shoulders. “I’m punishing you because you put yourself in a dangerous situation after I explicitly told you that you were not allowed to jump, Keir. You did something stupid and dangerous, and you disobeyed me. That’s why I’m punishing you. Do you understand?”

Keir sniffled, nodding, and he didn’t wait for Lee to tell him to take his pants down or position himself against the wall. Lee spread his lover’s legs a little, made sure his hands were on the wall, supporting him in that position, and moved behind him, paddle in hand.

“Don’t move, Keiran. If you try and stop me, it’ll last longer. You’re allowed to cry.” He ran his hand over the small of his back and over his butt and then let the first swat fall with the paddle. Keir jumped, but he knew better than to move. Like with a caning, moving tended to make it hurt more—Lee would not only increase the number of swats, but jumping around made the instrument fall on places best left unblemished.

Keir was whimpering by the fifth swat, and crying softly by the eighth. When the tenth landed, his breath hitched and he lifted one hand away from the wall to cover his mouth. “No more, Lee, no more, please,” he whined, but Lee continued. By the time Lee reached the end—fifteen swats—Keir’s butt was red and he was crying freely. Lee turned him into his arms, but Keir pushed away.

“I’m sorry, Lee. Never again, I promise. I won’t ever, I’m sorry.” Lee tugged him back onto the couch with him, and Keir fought him for a while but Lee was stronger and he pinned him against himself, running soothing circles up his back and over his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Lee,” he murmured into his chest. Lee kissed the top of his head. “It’s over now, bunny rabbit. You’re not going to do that again. Sh, I’ve got you,” he purred. Keir nodded, letting Lee soothe him for a while, but when he had had enough, he squirmed out of his arms and away, hissing when his butt touched the couch.

“Ow! Look, Lee. Look what you did,” he said, indignant, and he turned to show his still-reddened butt to his older lover. Lee leaned closer and kissed his tailbone, tracing his spine.

“Look what you made me do, Keiran.”