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a burden.”
“He’s not. He’s my Damon.”
“Ours.” Tork grabbed his hand and squeezed. “But you know how proud he can be. We
just need to keep reminding him, yeah?”
“Yep. We’re going to find a place, right? Somewhere with a huge master?” Big enough
for a custom made bed that would fit them all comfortably.
“We will. I’ll get on it as soon as we get home. We can even manage the move so Damon
doesn’t have to pack so much as a fork.”
“I’m dreading the next round of chemo,” Joe admitted. It was easier to talk about it here
in this good place. “Each time he gets worse.” The chemo was poison.
“But it’s working.” Tork sat back on his heels, and sighed. “We have to stay strong for
him.”
He growled low. “I am. Asshole.”
Tork glared at him. “I am not an asshole, I was trying to be supportive for you too,
dickwad.”
“I will put you over my knee.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
Erik came in, glaring. “Both of you shut the fuck up right now.”
“Is he okay?” Joe asked immediately.
“Tired. Embarrassed about falling. Wishing he was horny.”
“Sorry, Joe. I’m just on edge about it, too.” Tork kissed his knee.
Joe nodded and leaned down, kissed Tork hard. “Let’s go snuggle with him. I need to.”
Damon was the clever one. They needed him. They weren’t balanced unless they all had
each other. They were a foursome, through and through.
Chapter Eight
This was the first time he hadn’t left before the rest. Well, last time Joe had come with
him, but normally, he’d be gone at nightfall to get back to work. Now, he was just sitting like a
lump, scratching at the port implanted in his chest.
Two more rounds. Two more. He could do this. He totally could. That’s what he kept
telling himself, anyway.
Tork wandered into the living room. “Hey, how come you’re not in bed with us?” Tork
sat next to him, hand sliding on his leg.
“I got hot. Stupid temperature regulation is non-fucking existent.”
“Are you cold now?” Tork asked.
When he nodded, Tork drew him close, the big body warming him up immediately.
“Better?”
“Always.” He leaned hard. “I don’t want to go back in for treatment on Tuesday, Tork.”
“I wish you didn’t have to. You’re doing so well, though. The tumor is shrinking. That’s
amazing.”
“It is. I’m not bitching. Well, maybe a little, but I’m not unhappy. Just...” Worried.
Scared. Okay, petrified. He had been from the start, though he’d never admit it out loud to his
lovers. He thought they needed him to lead the charge on this. “...reluctant.”
“Yeah, it makes you pretty sick. We’re here, though, right? All three of us. You don’t
have to go through any of it alone.”
“I know. My heroes.” Someone was always there—in the hospital, out, no matter what he
needed. He knew they didn’t mind, but he hated being so damn dependent on them. He couldn’t
wait to be able to pull his weight again.
“You’d be the first one there if it was one of us.” Tork stroked his belly.
“Yeah. Yeah, I would.” He hummed softly, that touch incredibly comforting. “Feels
good, huh?”
“Yeah? That works well, then, because that’s what I was going for.” Tork gave him a
teasing smile, blue eyes twinkling slightly. His lovers made it easier to stop stressing every
second.
“Yeah. I can’t believe how much a body can throw up and still live.” It had been worse in
the last few weeks, too. Like his body was more pissed off about the second round of chemo than
it had been over the first.
“We need to talk to the doctor about finding a new anti-nausea pill.”
“You think?” The patches were okay, but...
“You’re still sick, even during the days when you’re supposed to be at your best. I
wonder if you’re not adapting to the meds so they aren’t working as well. So, yes, I’d say.”
“Well, I’ll ask on Tuesday.”
“Good. Don’t forget. I’ll make you a list.” Tork really was the mother of their little
group. He was damn good at it, too.
“Is Joe coming with me this time?” It was easier if he wasn’t the only one with the list.
That way if he chickened out on anything, there was something there to ask for him.
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