Theo blushes, and his eyes drop. “Sorry, Matt. You don’t have to—”
“Happy to take care of you.” I cut him off. “You need rest. I like you in my bed, in whatever way.”
Theo seems surprised and exhausted at the same time. Mulder jumps up to snuggle next to him. With me, she’s standoffish, with him, a cuddle slut.
“I think Mulder has the right idea. How about you drink some of the broth I have here, and we will both get some sleep?”
“Will you sleep here?”
I smile at the very small thread of need he lets show in that question. “It’s a big bed. I bet we can both get comfy and not rip out Perrin’s hard work.”
“S’okay.” His eyes drift.
“Broth first, sweetness.”
“’Kay.”
Chapter 10: Theo
Waking up warm and wedged in between Mulder, softly purring to one side, and Matt, softly almost-snoring to the other, becomes my new normal. Well, the normal for the past few days, at least. Matt’s large hand rests lightly, splayed across my lower back. Those hands have gently taken care of me as the flu ran its course.
In a way, it’s easy to forget I’m practically homeless. Not that the storage room is bad—at least, not by my current standards. But it is quite warm and stuffy, not designed for airflow. Although I got at most four or five hours of sleep, I still woke each morning with a headache like I had been on a bender all night at Black Diamond instead of working there. Maybe that was why the flu came on so quickly.
Matt bringing me to his apartment and caring for me for the past few days is one more thing in this whole absurd situation. A few days, nothing more than a blissful blur of Matt telling me to drink, to sleep, to bathe, and to eat. And I don’t have to any expend more mental energy than doing what I am told.
Survival, one day to the next, has been my mental load of the past two years. With the weight removed, I float in a hazy bliss of medication, warmth, and care. Without Matt’s reassuring presence and the sheer grounding force of his arms around me, I might float away.
Yesterday, I felt better, fever-free and able to stomach something more than his gourmet soup. I did the dishes, over Matt’s protests, and cleaned up his condo when he was at work without feeling like I ran a marathon. I even watched part of a movie with Matt and Baylor on Matt’s couch last night before I fell asleep and Matt carried me back to his bed. I had meant to go back to my pallet in the storage room now that I’m better.
It’s early, but not by baker’s hours, and the fog is clearing, making my brain only hazy at best. The smell and warmth of Matt’s almost-naked body wakes me up with force. All of me is awake. And up. My dick has forgotten I’m not one for morning wood. This morning, Matt’s perfectly sculpted pectoral is right in my line of sight, and I have been laying on its twin like a pillow.
I shiver.
Matt’s muscular arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer. Even in his half-sleeping state, he has got to feel me pressing against his thigh. A hard-on I can’t hide, too. His large hand moves to my ass, palming it perfectly in one hand and gently pressing my body against his. The pressure makes me gasp and arch, a whimper floating off my lips.
“Damn, sweetheart.” Matt mumbles the endearment, finding my lips with his.
The kiss starts slow and sweet, but when he presses my body against his with all that delicious friction, I can’t keep the noises from rising out of me, spurring him on to deeper kissing of a different nature. The kind of kisses intended to lead somewhere.
“Going to come if you keep doing that,” I manage, but it’s a whine. He smiles against my mouth. Sparks of arousal shoot through my body, reminding me of how wonderful Matt can make me feel.
“God, you feel good in my arms.” Matt places open-mouthed kisses down my neck. Slowly, he rolls on top of me, gently placing one of my hands and then the other above my head. My response to his gentle manhandling is almost as instant as his smirk.
I’m not sure if he somehow puzzled out what I like in bed, or if he just happens to like the same thing.
“You will not hurt yourself.” His voice is a command, and I nod my agreement. “One day, I will take you apart, piece by piece, sugar, but neither of us are going to be able to wait that long today.”
My back arches up at his words.
Since Salt Lake, and Nico, and Deny, I have known the kind of hunger reaching all the way back to your spine. The kind of hopelessness making you look for a bridge. The kind of scared making sleep a precious commodity. All of that, despite it or because of it, fades under the need Matt creates in my body. A need so great it threatens to eclipse the others I have known lately: the need for food, warmth, shelter. Somehow, Matt’s touch rearranges Maslow’s hierarchy to put him at the very base, the cornerstone of all the rest.
“Sweetheart.” Matt has one hand on my face and one clutching my hip, “You are insatiable, aren’t you? Beautiful. Infinitely fuckable. And in my bed.”
I keen at his words, and his hands roam lower. Without question, my body offers itself up to him, leaning into his touch.
He reaches for the drawstring of my too-big shorts, pulling it undone. Blue eyes watch mine as he slowly moves his hand down, cupping my bare cock once he pulls it free.
Matt’s eyes roll back, and he groans, stroking me.
