Chapter Thirteen
MAKAI WOKEup, coughing. That was all fine and normal, according to everything he’d read online. He didn’t, however, care much about way the kitten sleeping next to his head on the pillow startled and dug its claws on the closest thing—Makai’s shoulder.
“Ow, fuck!” he hissed, mindful of Emil sleeping next to him.
The kitten, Makai thought it was Willow, got off his pillow and went to curl up with her siblings by Emil’s feet.
Makai sighed, coughed a couple of more times, spat some disgusting stuff into a napkin, and took a drink of water. He rubbed his chest and hoped the ache would settle soon. He wasn’t on any heavy pain meds anymore, just the over-the-counter stuff, and he didn’t want to have to take more than the bottle instructed.
He checked his cell for the time and saw it was already almost eight. They slept a lot, both of them, which meant they were healing.
Makai wasn’t stupid enough to think his hospital stay hadn’t affected Emil at all. In fact, he knew that Emil had done pretty damn bad at one point during the first four days or so. He’d looked much like when they’d met, actually, which had alerted Makai to how much Emil had changed since then.
The almost sickly pallor of his skin and the way he seemed fragile was back. He shied away from people again and ate only when prompted to. Once, a machine of some sort had started to beep violently somewhere nearby, and it made Emil press his head against Makai’s side and tremble where he sat by the bed.
So yeah, Makai needed to take better care of himself and Emil too.
He did the creeper thing of watching Emil sleep for a while. He couldn’t help it. Emil just looked so lovely, with his curls wild after last night’s shower and the way he sprawled, ever mindful of Makai and the cats even in his sleep.
Makai felt his chest ache, but this time it was the good kind. He could feel the love there for Emil. Thing was, he’d never really thought about love before. He’d certainly never thought he’d find it, and not in a place like Acker, Wisconsin.
He’d come there to relive some vague childhood memories and be a hermit in his little cottage. Instead, he’d gotten a small-town family and… love.
Eventually, on day three or so, Emil had told him about his call to Makai’s mother. While it stung, it didn’t really feel too bad. If he’d been awake, he wouldn’t have bothered to make the call. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that made his mother act like she did, other than the clearly affectionless childhood of hers even Mr. Miller seemed to remember.
She hadn’t known how to react to Makai’s conviction, and at that time, Nakoa had never been in jail. Now, the situation was much different, but back then Makai had gone from the slightly favorite and less problematic son to the one she didn’t want anything to do with. She’d been overwhelmed, and with the way she’d been raised, she hadn’t had the tools to process what was going on.
Even if it had been half a decade after Makai’s dad died, she’d still been grieving too. They all were. Makai had had a good father and an emotionally distant mother, and with Evy’s help, he’d started to see that more clearly.
She’d made him have a session with her right there in the hospital on a day when Emil had been moving his stuff over to Makai’s.
Evy was… pretty great. She was intimidating as hell when she wanted to be, and the whole hippie thing was both very much her and something to lull people into a false sense of security. Makai bet you couldn’t see her wit and insight and professional experience coming most of the time.
She’d agreed to come over in a few days to have another session with him. It would do him good to talk about this shit.
Emil rolled over onto his back and continued to sleep. The way the sheet covering him shifted showed more of his body. Emil had been skinny as hell in the beginning, but he’d hidden it well with hoodies and layers. It wasn’t until Emil started to sleep over that Makai truly understood how skinny he really was.
He’d gotten better and then worse in the week or so of high stress with the hospital. When you didn’t have much to spare, any weight loss showed. But they’d get back to where they’d been, both physically and mentally, Makai was sure of that.
Another thing that had changed recently was making itself known under Emil’s sheet. Makai thought it must’ve been the safety and the belonging that made Emil’s body react in the mornings. Before Emil, Makai would’ve thought morning wood was something that just happened to all guys, regardless. Now he knew better. Sure, a lot of the time it had nothing to do with arousal at all, but he was starting to think that for Emil, it did.
And it wasn’t only the morning wood, either. Just last night after they showered separately, Emil first, and then he’d helped Makai out with everything he needed help with, he’d realized Emil had been hiding a chubby while he dried Makai where he couldn’t reach with one hand and an achy chest.
Makai hadn’t been unaffected, either, but he knew anything sexual would have to wait until he was healed and, more importantly, Emil was as ready as he could be.
They hadn’t talked about sex much. They’d agreed on taking it slowly, one step at a time, in whichever way the situation and mood directed them.
Makai slid out from under the covers and cats and padded to the bathroom as quietly as possible. It wasn’t easy, especially when he managed to make himself cough in the echoing space. Eventually, he made his way to the kitchen, noting that Emil was still asleep.
The cats, however, weren’t. They were all very vocal about starving and needing sustenanceright now,and Makai felt grateful for Emil’s insight of making sure the cat food was in containers Makai could operate one-handed.
Even with the flannel pajama pants on, he grunted at the claws digging into his legs through the fabric. “Can you not? Wait for one goddamned second, you beasts,” he said, trying to shake the kittens off, but all four—two on each leg—hung on until he made it to their bowls by the wall. “Here, now go eat and leave me alone, you maniacs,” he scolded them but smiled anyway.
“You’re such a softie,” Emil said fondly.
“Can you make the coffee?” Makai asked, putting away the extra cat food and batting his lashes at Emil.
“Yeah, sure. How’s the chest?” Emil went to put the coffee maker on. Makai could’ve done it with one hand. He’d practiced enough times now, but it was about ten times faster if Emil did it instead.
