A squeak alerted him that Smudge had been roused from wherever he’d been sleeping, concerned for Teddy as he rubbed against his legs and squeaked again.
“Sorry, buddy, can’t reach down to pet you right now.” Teddy walked sluggishly to the sofa, where his pain meds and a bottle of water from that morning sat on the coffee table. After easing down into the cushions, he snatched up the medication, since it was time for more anyway, and downed his dose with a grimace.
Smudge hopped onto the coffee table, and Teddy was able to reach over and stroke his fluffy head.
“Good boy. Hard to be saddled with a mess like me, huh? Might not be the best snuggle buddy right now, but I’ll be okay.”
Sitting at the edge of the table to enjoy a few more pets, Smudge regarded Teddy curiously but eventually agreed to leave him be and trotted away. He really was the perfect cat—or psychic. Teddy needed alone time.
He turned his head to the sliding glass doors and his brand-new beach chair outside, which was everything he’d wanted as far as comfort and support, but he had no desire to sit out there now with the chance of Finn coming home soon and seeing him.
Teddy just wished everything could be easier, which he knew was juvenile and stupid, but those thoughts plagued him anyway.
If only he’d never needed the surgery. If only he was younger, could recover faster and get back in the game. If only he’d met Finn under different circumstances. If only he wasn’t an asshole. If only he could enjoy Finn’s hands at his hips, or his elbows, or along his lower back, always present during their sessions, tender and careful.
In another life, Teddy might have encouraged Finn without fearing the inevitable unraveling that always followed his romantic entanglements. He would have taken Finn’s hands with those long, lovely fingers and held them in place at hiswaist, maybe even pulled them around his stomach and down beneath the elastic of his sweats.
Teddy grunted in annoyance at his shifted train of thought, because now he was getting hard—hard while thinking about Finn with no desire to derail the fantasy.
Much as he needed release, he still paused to peek in the direction Smudge had gone, seeing the cat at his water dish, then watching him head off toward the bedroom. It was silly to worry about his cat catching him, but still, Teddy was grateful for the solitude and relaxed back onto the sofa, feeling the faint numbness of his meds kicking in.
He thought again of Finn’s hands slipping into his sweats and allowed one of his own to do so for real. It was a naughty daydream, picturing it all happening in the gym at the health center, alone with Finn but with the chance that someone might catch them at any moment.
Teddy curled his fingers around himself and squeezed, pulsing hotter from the scene playing behind his eyes after he closed them—how Finn would obey his subtle nudging, even though it was terribly inappropriate in public.
Facing the mirror with Finn behind him, Teddy would meet Finn’s eyes, finding hunger instead of the judgment and sorrow from before. Finn’s fingers would tease along his length, and Teddy would gasp, hips subtly moving—
“Ah!” Teddy hissed when he tried to mimic the fantasy, buttock muscles tightening like they always did when he touched himself, which was part of the problem doing those exercises in Finn’s presence, but Teddy’s injury wouldn’t even allow him this.
He removed his hand with a growl and tried to think of other ways to help himself along without aggravating his hip, but it wasn’t easy without a partner.
How terrible of a person would Teddy be if he called Finn to apologize for earlier with the ulterior motive of inviting him over?
Definitely an asshole.
“Knock, knock!” a voice called from the entryway and—no. Not now. Please no. “Teddy!”
Erina—his sister, dammit—without having given him any warning, announced herself as she came right in, and Teddy hurried to right himself, causing a renewed spike of pain to tear through his side.
“Fuck,” he hissed again.
“Teddy?” She appeared finally, looking beautiful as ever with her long black locks curled loosely over her shoulder—the same color his had been before it started to gray—with dark eyes like his, too, and wearing a classy ensemble in a mix of black and gold.
Smudge reappeared to greet her—and even rubbed against her legs.
“Aw, is this my furry little nephew?” She reached down to pick him up and moved into the living room with him.
“Erina,” Teddy growled, though he should have known she’d pull something like this. Ambushing him was one of her favorite pastimes.
It didn’t help that Smudge seemed perfectly content to let her snuggle him. She pressed her forehead to his, and he nuzzled right into her, the traitor.
“Did I interrupt something?” she teased, as though she knew exactly what Teddy had been up to, though he’d made sure to let his sweatpants bunch to hide the evidence and it wasn’t as if he’d have his issue for much longer, given her arrival.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“What does it look like?” she said, and Teddy took note of the bag she’d dropped. “Staying for the weekend, silly, to take care ofmy big brother.” She grinned mischievously as Teddy’s stomach sank to the floor. “Did you miss me?”
three
