“Fuck! You’re hurt,” Colton said, cursing himself for stating the obvious. Henry was hurt and he was to blame. He’d hurt him. Of course, he hadn’t meant to but still, Henry was hurt because of him. He quickly got up from the rumpled bed and raced to the adjoining bathroom. He searched through the cupboard under the sink and found a small, white towel. Hurrying back, he took in Henry sitting naked in the middle of the motel bed where they’d made love a few hours before. The chaos of the present moment stood in sharp contrast to the peace he’d felt last night, falling asleep next to Henry. Coming to a stop next to the bed, he leaned in towards Henry, whose hand was now almost entirely covered in blood.
“Here, let me help you,” Colton said as he slowly removed Henry’s hand from the oozing cut and gently pressed the soft towel against his eyebrow.
“Fuck!” Henry hissed as the towel connected with his forehead.
“I need to stop the bleeding and then I’ll take a closer look, but you probably need stitches.” Colton mumbled under his breath looking away from Henry. Even though all the years in the Army had made him almost immune to injuries and blood, he felt sick to his stomach looking at the result of his fist connecting with Henry’s pale skin.
“They’ll probably glue it. Much easier and less scarring,” Henry replied in a tone Colton had difficulty interpreting. He didn’t sound angry. More annoyed. But what did he expect? No one liked being awakened by a hard fist connecting with your forehead.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll get dressed and take you to the ER. Just hold this firmly and I’ll just go get my stuff and keys.” Dropping to his knees, Colton started rummaging frantically around the floor next to the bed. Searching for his clothes lying among Henry’s clothes, bearing witness to the careless and quick discarding last night before they’d had sex. They’d had sex. The thought struck him like lightning, a dull pain passing through his core. He’d fucked Henry in this room, on this bed and it had been the best fucking sex of his life. Without comparison. And now Henry sat in the middle of the bed, hurt. Because of him. And it was so not the way he’d expected the morning would go. Henry sitting there bleeding because of him. Hurt. You didn’t hurt the people you lo…
“Colton, look at me,” Henry interrupted his string of thoughts and what he’d nearly admitted to himself. He was in love with Henry. When and exactly how it had happened, he didn’t know for sure, but there was no doubt in his mind that somewhere along the way he’d fallen hard for this wonderful man sitting in front of him.
“Colton, will you please look at me,” Henry repeated, this time in a firm but unmistakably concerned voice. How ironic that Henry showed concern for him, when he was the one who was hurt. Colton continued to search through the pile of clothes halfway under the bed, finally finding his jeans.
“Colton…” Keys. He needed to find his keys.
“Colton!” And his phone. He needed the closest ER.
“Colton, will you please stop that and fucking look at me!” He hadn’t realized that Henry had gotten off the bed and now stood right in front of him. He reached out and wrestled the jeans out of Colton’s clenched fist. In a soft voice he spoke again.
“Baby, will you please look at me?” He dropped the jeans to the floor and took Colton’s trembling hand in his. Suddenly, he felt cold. And tired.
Henry dropped the bloody towel and placed his other hand against his cheek, turning Colton’s head up towards him. As he looked up slowly, his blurred gaze connected with the bluest of blue. Blue as the desert sky in the morning once the storm had finally settled. Colton sucked in a deep breath, a single traitorous tear trailing down his cheek.
“There you are,” Henry smiled at him, a concerned frown between his dark-blond eyebrows, the cut no longer bleeding. He continued to stroke Colton’s cheek, looking at him like he’d just found his most cherished possession.
“I lost you there for a minute, didn’t I? But there you are.” Pulling Colton towards him, he leaned in and faintly brushed his lips against Colton’s. Then he just as slowly pulled away and looked at Colton again. He wasn’t angry. Or scared. Or disappointed even. He looked worried, his gentle blue eyes searching Colton’s face, a smear a blood at his temple. “I’m okay,” he said reassuringly, not taking is eyes away from Colton. “I’m okay and it wasn’t your fault.”
“It was…” Colton trailed off, almost whispering the words. But he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He felt a building pressure behind his eyes and a sinking feeling in his stomach.
“Baby. Listen to me. It wasn’t your fault. I’m okay. Sure, it hurts like a motherfucker, and I didn’t even have my coffee yet, but I’m okay.” A boyish smile tugged at Henry’s mouth making him look even younger if that was even possible.
“But I hurt you. I fucking hurt you, sweetheart.” Colton felt a lump settle in his throat, making it hard to speak. He swallowed loudly.
Henry continued to smile at him.
“I like when you call me that.” His eyes were almost on fire now, the blue turning darker. “Sweetheart. I want to be that. Your sweetheart.”
“I don’t deserve to call you that,” Colton gritted out, the lump still there. “Not when I hurt you like that.” Henry continued to look at him, his facial expression taking on a more serious nature.
“It wasn’t your fault, Colton. And you do. You do deserve that. And so much more. God, you don’t even know, do you? You deserve everything that is good in this world. To be cared for. To be held. I want to give you all those things, Colton. So much. If you’ll let me.” He’d released Colton’s hand and both of his hands were instead framing Colton’s face, centering him. He bit his plump lower lip before continuing. “But most of all, you deserve not to hurt any more. Because I know that you do. And I so want to take that away from you, baby. So bad.”
That’s when Colton felt the pressure behind his eyes give way and the tears trickle down his face in earnest. Because maybe, he did. Maybe he did deserve that. And what if he could have it? That thought scared the shit out of him, because he’d tried to create a world where he had nothing to lose. Because if you had nothing to lose, you couldn’t get hurt, right?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Henry
IN THE ENDHenry had taken Colton back to bed instead of going to the ER. The bleeding had stopped, and he’d decided that a band-aid was sufficient. He’d kissed Colton everywhere. Every spot and every protruding bone. Every curve and every scar. When his lips were getting numb from all the kissing, he’d started licking Colton’s salty, clammy skin instead.
An inexplicable need to be as close as possible to the other man had overtaken him. An urgent need to reassure Colton that he was needed. Wanted. Forgiven. And loved. As amazing as the sex last night had been, Henry had accepted that what he felt for Colton had morphed well past physical desire and attraction. If it wasn’t quite love yet it sure was close. It was nothing like what he’d shared with Chad. He realized that now. He’d been infatuated with Chad, charmed by him. Flattered by the attention he’d received. It had given him a strange sense of accomplishment to enter an adult, mature relationship. It hadn’t been love though. How he felt about Colton was something else entirely.
Seeing Colton standing hurt and consumed with shame in front of him earlier had added fuel to a deep-seated feeling of protectiveness. An undeniable urge to care for and protect the other man. He wanted to take away all the pain, guilt and shame he’d seen in Colton’s eyes. He wanted to replace those feelings with pleasure, joy and pride.
Henry had settled his chin on Colton’s broad chest and felt the rise and fall of his heavy breathing. He was slowly running his fingers through the softness of the other man’s chest hair. Every now and then, he would press a soft kiss to the tan skin.
“Are you asleep?” he whispered not wanting to wake up Colton in case he was. He needed the rest.
