Original Two Sides of the Same Coin - Part 14/? - Updated Jan 11, 2022

[27jj]

Not one, but two updates??? Awesome:)

Ahh, caretaking. So beautiful. And the sneezing is seriously hot. I love how Rio pretends to be sick so he can get medicine for Caliph. Still loving this!!!

[PaperThings]

Oh wow, this story is AMAZING. I love Caliph and Rio's interactions. You are a fabulous, fabulous writer .

[ooo]

Ohh, my gosh. So much I loved about these two chapters that I don't even know where to start...the not-quite-inducing scene, Caliph being too perfect and Rio finally being the one who has to look after him, Rio being clever with the sick bay, Caliph not quite trusting him at first...the way you describe sneezes, and spell them, and aghh.

[starpollen]

Yay more battles. And - sorry - a cliffhanger!...

No worries. I have more written to post. Just have to massage it within an inch of its life...

Part 6

Whether due to his exhaustion, the medication, or both, Caliph slept long and deep. Better than he had in years.

All he knew as he faded was that he was warm. He could finally breathe, and that knifing, miserably sore throat was finally cool and numb. He was vaguely aware that he was propped up against something - the source of that beautiful warmth - and he didn’t question it.

Rio sat as still as he could, strangely content to have the older man in his arms. He listened to Caliph’s breathing - slow and deep - his body heavy with sleep, barely aware of the hours that passed. His shill could use a shower, the sticky scent of sweat rising from his hair. But shortly after that thought, one side of the brunet’s mouth curved into a slow, lopsided grin.

Because part of that scent was also a musky layer that was pure Caliph, something Rio had never been close enough to notice before.

Lowering his head, he breathed deep, letting it fill his lungs. He concentrated on the feel of the blond’s hard weight, the curve of his muscles as they stretched the soft fabric of his shirt...

Glancing down, Rio’s eyes raked Caliph’s sleeping face: the sweep of his brows, golden lashes dark against his marble cheek, the hard curve of his jaw...

Rio’s tongue dragged over his lower lip, unable to pull his eyes away from the sleeping man’s mouth.

But before he could brush Caliph’s lips with his - just as he bent close enough to feel the first warm puff of the blond’s breath mingling with his own - the red light in the corner of their cabin began flashing. At the same time, a harsh blaring alarm ripped through the air.

It took a second for Rio to move, stunned stiff.

But Caliph jerked awake, blinking only twice into Rio’s very close whisky-gold eyes before pulling away, stumbling to his feet.

“We’re under attack.”

-- -- --

Rio was suddenly in full battle mode, leaping to his feet beside his shill and following as they both burst into the hall, feet pounding on the deck as every soldier raced toward the shuttle bay.

“Caliph!” Zethren shouted, tossing a rifle at him the moment the blond set foot through the door. “Rio!” A second rifle went airborne, but his shill’s big hand plucked it from its path before Rio could even raise his hand.

“Here,” Caliph handed it over, raising his arm to wipe the sweat from his eyes. The run had left him more out of breath than it should.

“Thanks,” Rio nodded, following as they moved to form up with the rest of their unit. The big blond looked worlds better after the medicine and sleep, but it could just be the adrenaline now flooding through their veins.

“Delta squad, man the fighters!” the captain called, stalking down from the upper deck. “Gamma squad, split into thirds: monitor the shields, keep loading the canons, and staff the auxillary guns. Alpha squad!”

Caliph and Rio straightened.

“You’re going in.”

-- -- --

Getting into the Rift suit had never been Caliph’s idea of a good time: the tight material was clearly designed for someone of smaller stature. He tugged at the neck, feeling like it was cutting off his air.

And his nose was running like a faucet.

Their squad was crouched against the studded wall of the hanger, all 32 men hunkered down listening to the hiss and boom of plasma cannons firing back and forth between the ships. Waiting for a lull.

“Never done this for real,” Dev muttered from Rio’s left.

“None of us have, genius,” Rio grumbled, tensing as a particularly strong cannon blast slammed into their starboard side, shaking the entire ship.

““Hhg’CHSHtt!...” Caliph sneezed.

“You alright, man?” Zeth glanced briefly over his shoulder.

“Mhm,” the blond grunted, adjusting the grip on his rifle with a soft sniffle.

Another thunderous shot from their ship, and the distinctive echo of it hitting its target.

“Let’s go, boys!” Z called, diving for the Rift portal that suddenly blazed to life in front of them. “Give ‘em hell!”

-- -- --

It wasn’t the first time Rio had used a Rift, but doing it under the controlled conditions of the Academy and doing it in the middle of a firefight were two totally different things.

One second he was sprinting for the swirling blue light, the next he was falling, his stomach suddenly in his throat as his body seemed to sommer-salt underwater repeatedly. Finally, his boots hit solid ground, barely keeping him upright as he stumbled into the enemy ship.

Caliph’s hand closed on his upper arm, steadying him.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

They ducked down the unfamiliar passage, assaulted by strange smells. By ‘going in,’ their squad was to try and sabotage specific targets in the enemy ship and get back before the Rift closed.

Before they’d be trapped, helpless, as their own ship blew them to kingdom come.

“Go left,” Rio ordered, and Caliph immediately turned.

Their unit had all broken off into pairs, each with a specific goal. Caliph and Riordan were to cripple the auxiliary shields generator, and they’d been given a wrist positioning device that would guide them to the control panel’s location.

“Uh’EKGsch!-’GSHchiih! Fuck.”

“Bless.”

“Thanks.” Sniffle.

“Take a right.”

They rounded the corner and ran smack into an ambush.

“Down!” Caliph yanked Rio to the floor, just in time for the rifle shot to sing over their heads. Both men fired instantly, taking all five aliens down in a matter of seconds.

“Well, that was fun,” Rio groaned, hauling himself to his feet and stepping over the bodies. “It should be just a little further ahead. Down the next corridor after the lift.” He and Caliph both drew their pistols, slinging the rifles over their shoulders. They were just too cumbersome for these narrow passages.

But once they were in the next corridor the lift opened, and eight more soldiers spilled out.

Zeth and Marcum were supposed to disable the lifts, something that could be done at any breaker panel. The fact that they hadn’t...

“Get back!” Caliph hauled Rio behind him, shoving him around the corner as the first shots rang out. The big warrior ducked behind the opposite corner, leaning heavily on the wall as they took turns jerking out and firing a few times before pulling back.

“Got three,” Rio gasped, shoving another plasma cylinder into his pistol’s shaft.

“Two,” Caliph grunted, sweat running in rivers down his face and neck.

More shots, one barely missing Rio’s head. “Got another one,” he called to his shill.

“Me, too.”

Then, it went silent.

Both men exchanged a wary glance. Caliph motioned that he was going to take another shot, but Rio shook his head, lips pressed tight. Caliph glared at him, opening his mouth to protest.

But before he could, the brunet stepped clear of the wall, firing at the one remaining alien.

Suddenly Caliph’s hand was on his chest, shoving Rio behind him and firing six times in quick succession.

It was the one answering shot that stopped Rio’s heart.

It slammed Caliph back into Riordan, knocking them both into the bulkhead behind them, smoke rising from the dark hole burned into the blond’s chest.

“NOOOO!!!”

Heedless of any possible danger, Rio caught the big shoulders in his arms, cradling Caliph as he slid to the floor. He felt like his own chest had been ripped open; he couldn’t breathe.

“Jesus fucking god...” Rio choked.

“It’s... fine...” the blond gasped, suddenly gray. “Get the... gener... ator...”

Rio blinked. Caliph wasn’t dead. He was talking. Okay. Okay...

Stalking to the panel in five steps, he fired, blowing it to smithereens.

“There,” he barked, striding back to grab his shill by the wrist and sling his arm over his smaller shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Caliph grunted and went a shade whiter when Rio hauled him to his feet, coughing thickly. “Careful, man,” he rasped, eyes closed tight and a grim smirk on his bloodless lips. “Get me... home... in one piece...”

Rio gentled his grip, one arm at Caliph’s waist and the other around the thick wrist at his shoulder, unable to take the time to relish the feeling of holding him close. “You got plenty of shots left?” he asked, jerking his chin toward the pistol his shill still clutched in his left hand.

“Yeah, I’ll cover our... asses, you just... keep hauling...” Caliph couldn’t seem to catch his breath, sending Rio’s gut plummeting to his toes. “--heg’sNZSht!-h... fuugckthathurtsz...”

“Hang on... I gotcha... just stay with me...”

They made their way back to the Rift, and it was almost as if the blond had ESP: every time they paused at a corner before bursting around, he knew whether to have his weapon raised, not missing a single one of the four enemies they encountered. Rio practically ran the last twenty feet, ignoring the low groans from the injured man in his arms as desperation took over.

The sommer-saults ripped the two apart, Rio’s hands scrabbling against Caliph’s suit but unable to find purchase as they spun through subspace.

They both landed on the floor of their ship with a grunt, just in time to hear their cannon roar and slam home, the alien ship exploding in a zillion microscopic pieces.

“God, I didn’t think you were gonna make it!” Dev choked out as he hauled Rio to his feet. “You two lucky sons-of--”

“Let go of me!” Rio shoved at him. “Caliph!...”

The blond lay on his back, pale as death, dark blood soaking his left shoulder.

“Caliph!”

“Easy, man,” Dev’s arms closed around Rio’s chest as he lunged, restraining him. “Let the medics--”

Before he could finish, the med team was kneeling by the fallen soldier, obscuring Caliph from view.

“No! Get the fuck off me! He’s hurt, I gotta...” Rio couldn’t breathe, his heart like the pounding of wild horses, lights strobing the edges of his vision.

“Stop, man!” Dev’s arms just tightened, giving Rio a rough shake. “Just stop! They’ve got him: let them do their job...”

“Get your fucking hands OFF me! CALIPH!!”

“Somebody give me a hand here!” Dev roared.

Rio was still struggling when he felt a sting on his neck, Dev’s voice suddenly coming as if from a great distance...

Then, he blacked out.

Edited January 9, 2022 by starpollen

[everest]

It is way to late for me to be reading anything, but I don't care. When I saw that this had been updated, I had to read it. This story is amazing, after every part I'm left desperate for more! This was no exeption. I'd lose sleep off of this story any day!

[Aprilcot]

Update now.

I need to know.

[VoOs]

God, woman, you're a genius. The descriptions, the dialog, the characters... I'm at loss for words.

Edited July 13, 2010 by VoOs

[afanofthearts]

You are such a professional...you know exactly what emotions to evoke and when to evoke them...I don't know if any further complimenting does you justice at this point, so I am just going to say, "Thanks."

[meepsy]

GAAAAAAH! nooo! Caliph!

I'm on pins and needles. This...this is just...gaahhh!!

[Tarkus]

No, just no

You cannot toy with our emotions by giving us cliffhangers!

Your writing is as beautifully descriptive and full of delicious angst as it always is I am now thoroughly addicted to your story and I hope you continue to update!

LOOOOVE THIS FIC!!!!!

[LeapYearKisses]

God, I love this fic so much! The cliffhanger actually managed to give me goosebumps. XD

[starpollen]

Okay. Sorry to keep you guys hanging so long! You'll have to forgive me for indulging in more sap... I just can't help myself!...

Part 7

Tight corridors... alien smells, swirling blue... flipping over and over... dark blood in pale blond hair...

“...Caliph!...”

Rio jerked suddenly awake, blinking his eyes against the brightness of the infirmary.

“Welcome back, Corporal,” Dr. Zhao was at Riordan’s side, laying a hand to the soldier’s heaving shoulder as the brunet struggled to sit up. “Easy.”

“H-how long...?”

“You’ve been sedated for 11 hours.”

“Oh god! Caliph! Is h--... Is he--?” he couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

“Calm down. He’s resting.”

“Wh-...” Rio swallowed, taking a deep, shaky breath. “How is he?”

The doctor regarded him for a long moment, as if assessing his ability to handle the information. Finally, he spoke.

“His Rift suit’s plates protected him from the worst of the blast,” the small man explained. “Even so, we had to repair significant damage to his left chest and shoulder area: the pectoralis major was shredded, his left collarbone broken, two upper ribs cracked, the lung was nicked...”

“Jesus!” Rio went cold, both hands fisting the mattress.

“Fortunately the shot missed his heart, and the nick in the lung was very small. He was in surgery for 4 hours, and we were able to knit his muscles and set his bones. All he needs now is time to heal fully: probably a week or two with the infusions we’re giving him.” Then Dr. Zhao’s voice dropped low, gentle. “All in all, he is a very lucky young man. Several others from your squad... didn’t make the Rift in time.”

Rio clenched his eyes tight, unwilling to even think about that right now.

“Just... let me see Caliph. Please.”

“Of course,” Dr. Zhao stepped back, letting the brunet slide off the bed. Rio had to pause a moment and let his legs remember how to hold him up. Then, he followed the doctor out of the small room.

“I have to hand it to you, Corporal,” the doctor conversed amiably. “You were quite convincing.”

“Huh?”

The tiny man glanced back over his shoulder. “Your ‘sore throat.’ Your ‘trouble sleeping.’ I’m sure some minor physical exertion is how you managed the temperature, correct?”

“Oh,” Rio’s eyes dropped to his feet, not at all ashamed of his actions. That clinic visit seemed to have happened to someone else, someone he'd read about...

“It is fortunate, though, that our scans were able to detect the medication in Private Caliph’s bloodstream before we began treatment,” the doctor stopped outside a closed door, turning to pierce Rio with a hard stare. “Certain drugs have nasty interactions, so it’s important for my staff to have accurate files on every single person that comes through our doors. Especially given Caliph’s history.”

“Oh.” Caliph's allergy to the immunizations. Rio hadn’t even considered that his shill might not be able to take the same medicines he could, terrified to think he could have killed him with his carelessness.

“Next time, please, just tell the truth, Corporal,” Zhao murmured, looking at Rio sternly. “He wouldn’t be the first soldier I’ve seen with an irrational fear of doctors: there are always options, and the important thing is to get the patient the treatment he needs.”

“Yes, sir.”

The tiny man’s hand turned the knob and opened the door, the soft beep of machines floating through the air. “At least now we can give him the proper medicine for his sinus infection. What I gave you helped manage the symptoms, but--”

“Infection?” Rio blinked.

“Yes. I’m sure you noticed the fever,” Zhao’s hand on Rio’s shoulder gently urged him into the room. “He’s heavily sedated: it’s best under the circumstances. But you can talk to him if you keep your voice low. Tell him pleasant things: studies have shown the voice of a loved one encourages patients to relax, even sedated, and helps promote healing.”

“B-but I’m not... I mean, we’re not...”

“You grew up together,” Dr. Zhao’s eyes were glittering again, soft and kind. “You must be like brothers.”

“Oh. Y-yeah,” Rio swallowed, unsure whether to be relieved... or ashamed. “Brothers...”

And then the doctor left him alone, standing in the door to Caliph’s room, staring at the bed where his shill lay surrounded by a bevy of machines, pale as the sheets, his chest barely rising with each breath.

Before he knew it, his elbows were sunk into the mattress, both of Rio’s hands clutching one of Caliph’s as tears ran unabashedly down his face.

“You big bastard,” he choked in a whisper, barely blinking, closely tuned to each blip of the machine registering the warrior’s heartbeat. “You scared the shit outa me, you know that?”

Caliph didn’t answer, didn't even so much as twitch.

“They say you were lucky,” Rio continued, counting no less than 5 tubes coming out of his shill’s body, hooked to the various machines: two IV bags - one saline, one antibiotic - cathether, oxygen, monitor patch, cell infusion for bone re-growth...

It was silent for several long moments, save for the beeping of Caliph’s heart. The monitor showed he was running a temperature of 101.8, yet his fingers were ice cold.

“I hated you,” Rio whispered, sucking in a ragged breath and swipe at his face with the back of one hand. “I h-hated that I needed you. So fucking much.”

He remembered the first day he’d laid eyes on his shill, having been told by his parents only minutes before that he was getting one, never mind that he was getting one right then. His parents had been saving for years, nearly giving up hope that they’d be able to afford it. Then a big merger finally went through. But even after they had the money it had taken them months to find a shill that old... months that his parents hadn’t divulged what they were planning.

He supposed he hated them a little for that, too.

It was strange to think what both their lives would have been like, if even one thing had gone just a little differently.

“Sorry, man,” Rio sighed, clearing his throat and pulling himself together. “I’m supposed to tell you ‘pleasant things.’ Like... um...” He swallowed, grasping. “I bet mom’s roses are in bloom...” It sounded hollow even to his ears. “She and dad are probably planning some party... inviting the governors of the territories and all the delegates... remember how we were dressed in those awful suits and made to sit through those dinners...?”

Rio trailed off, remembering more than just what they’d worn. He’d been so angry, had wanted to hurt the blond however he could: alternating between loudly proclaiming Caliph’s status as his shill one year and ignoring the other boy’s existence another. At every turn denying him the simple dignity of being a human being.

“I treated you like shit,” the young master admitted, chafing some warmth into the lax fingers in his grip. “And you never let on, but I’m sure at times you hated it more than I did. I don’t know what I would have done if our positions had been reversed.”

Golden eyes fixed on Caliph’s closed lids, imagining the dove-grey depths staring back at him.

“But I’m gonna spend the rest of our lives making it up to you,” Rio promised softly, swelling with hope for the first time in days. Then, he flashed a wicked grin. “It’s totally gonna freak you out.”

-- -- --

It was another six hours before Dr. Zhao began weaning Caliph off sedation.

“He’s still going to be groggy after he wakes,” Zhao warned, eyes fixed on the IV drip. “And probably in a bit of pain, even with what we’re giving him. But we can check his range of motion once he’s more aware. And with any luck he’ll be ready to go back to quarters in a couple of days. I’m just concerned about that fever: the antibiotics should have eradicated the sinus infection by now...”

Riordan just held Caliph's hand, waiting.

When it finally happened, it was just after 0230. The doctor had retired hours ago; the entire ship imbued in silence. Rio had fallen asleep with his head near the blond’s hip, the two men’s hands still loosely caged.

Caliph’s first sensation was sound. A repetitive... something. It was insistent. And close. He wanted it to stop: it was dragging him up from the warm depths of oblivion where he was comfortable. And safe.

And each level he ascended brought another layer of something he was desperate to avoid.

Pain.

Each breath was searing, getting worse by the second. But, apparently, he was addicted to oxygen and just couldn’t stop.

And he was cold. So fucking cold... It made the pain just that much worse.

Rio first felt the twitch of the cool fingers in his grasp, jerking awake without preamble and without cognizance.

“Mm,” the brunet grunted, blinking blearily for a second or two before skewing his mouth, his whole body stretching out its aches. He yawned greatly and then flicked a glance to the head of the bed.

The slitted gray eyes gazing at him shocked him off his seat.

“C-Caliph!” he gasped, unconsciously pressing the injured man’s hand to his chest. “You’re awake.”

A slow blink.

“How-- how you feeling?”

A second struggling blink, just enough time for pain to carve into the blond's temple, at the corner of his mouth.

Rio leaned closer, his lips hardened into a thin line and brows drawn together in such heartfelt concern that Caliph was sure he was dying. He’d never seen the brunet express such... depth.

“You must feel like shit,” Riordan murmured softly, raising his free hand and gently running fingers through the sick man's tousled hair. “I’ll get them to give you something stronger.” A warm squeeze for Caliph’s cold fingers, knuckles pressed into Rio’s steady heartbeat. Then he moved to let go...

“N-noo,” weak fingers curled.

“What?” those anxious whiskey eyes raked over him, hand closing tighter. “What do you need? Some water?...” Riordan turned to the nearby table.

“Ri...o...?”

He stilled, fixing Caliph with an unblinking stare. “Yeah?”

“...m’cold.”

A brief pause. Then purpose flamed in amber depths, the brunet immediately leaning down and pulling Caliph’s face into the hollow of his neck. “God I’m sorry, love... it’s like a freezer in here...” His free hand chafed warmth on the blond’s upper arm; thin blankets pulled up and tucked securely. And then Rio let go, crossing quickly to the closet in the corner and pulling out a quilt.

Caliph wasn’t exactly sure what was going on... maybe he was still asleep. He could have sworn Riordan called him--

“Here,” the heavier blanket settled over his legs, unfolded and was spread up to his shoulders while Rio's hands kept rubbing briskly over the fabric to generate more warmth. “How’s that? Better?”

Caliph chin dropped in a vague nod, still staring at his childhood companion with confusion. His thoughts were hard to pin down, chasing about in his head like wild songbirds.

“Caliph,” Rio’s hand once more slipped into his, gold eyes piercing. His shill’s face was too pale, pupils dilated by the drugs. He looked so weak. Frighteningly so. “You’ve been out for nearly 18 hours. Please... s-say something...”

Weary eyes blinked.

“hh... ? -MPXscHuu!” And a keening, pain-filled groan.

Followed by Rio’s hoarse guffaw.

-- -- --

Two days later, Rio helped Caliph into the lift, finally leaving the infirmary.

“Make sure you finish all of those prescriptions,” Dr. Zhao commanded, handing the bag of medicine to Riordan as he stared up at the big blond. “Your ribs and collarbone are still healing, and that sinus infection is proving particularly stubborn. If your fever hadn’t broken yesterday I wouldn’t even think about releasing you...”

“Yes, sir,” Caliph whispered, his voice still weak from all the coughing. It would be his luck to have caught the rare drug-resistant strain of super-bacteria that was currently overrunning his aching sinuses.

“Don’t worry, doc,” the brunet flashed a charming grin. “I’ll be keeping an eye on him.”

The blond flicked a nervous glance at Rio, whose hand rested securely on the small of Caliph’s back. Since he’d woken 2 days ago, the smaller man hadn’t left his side, attentively fetching water, blankets, tissues, forcing him to eat... and holding Caliph’s hand while he slept.

That last thing really threw him for a loop.

The caretaking he could almost rationalize, clearly remembering Rio’s terrified expression when he’d been hit. Guilt was a powerful thing.

But guilt wouldn’t account for the strange light in Rio’s eyes that Caliph only caught when he was almost asleep... when he was barely peering through nearly-shut lashes. Just on the border between waking and dreams, he’d feel the calloused palm slip into his own, strong fingers curling gently.

“Alright man,” Rio was grinning, a toothpick rolling from one side of his mouth to the other. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Caliph raised a lazy fist and knuckled his flushed nostrils, trying to stave off a sneeze. “What’s a... popsicle?”

“Damn, boy,” Rio frowned at the threadbare voice. “One: you should not talk. Like, for days. ‘Cause if it hurts even a fraction as much as it sounds...”

“Sorry.”

Gold eyes rolled. “Your ears stuffed up? I said no talking,” but instead of the cuff Caliph expected Rio to give, he felt the hand on his back rubbing briefly up and down. “And two... you didn’t have popsicles as a kid?”

Caliph opened his mouth to reply.

“Just nod or shake your head.” The blond’s croaking rasp was just too painful for Rio to listen to.

A shake.

“Hm,” this time, pensive. “Well, we’ll just see about that.”

The blond felt the slow tickle building in his nose, not wanting to sneeze. It hurt.

“Hgh...” he cleared his throat, hating that it made him need to cough. That hurt, too.

“You all right?”

Rio’s voice was low, soft. Glancing down, he saw those dark-gold eyes regarding him, somber. Concerned. Rio had been looking at him like that a lot lately.

“Mhm,” he grunted, trying to use the sound to itch the back of his throat.

The brunet’s arm tightened around his waist. “It’s okay,” came the confident whisper. “I got you.”

“huh--” He held his breath, not wanting to, not wanting... needing to... it--

“I got you.”

“IK’GZZSChhu!” It was ripped from him, pain shooting through his neck and chest. It was almost as bad as being shot again. He moaned softly, breath hitching, feeling another one coming...

“Shh,” Rio pulled the bigger body firmly against his side. “It’s okay. Don’t fight so hard.”

“Ihtt... iegh... hh... hurtz...” he panted, feeling the burning, maddening tingle fluttering in his sinuses. “Don’ wanna... sdeeze...” he was holding back, holding on so hard.

“I got you.”

“hk-GEZttSSCHih!”

The smaller man’s whole body tightened against his, supporting him, bracing him. And, strangely, it didn’t hurt as much that way: didn’t feel like it was ripping his body to pieces.

He sighed in weary relief.

“Here.” Caliph jerked a little when Rio gently cupped a tissue to his face. “Blow.”

He did. And he didn’t open his eyes, simply letting go. Giving himself into Rio's hands.

The lift stopped. Rio brushed the tissue to the tip of his nose, then gave his back a reassuring pat, and Caliph opened his eyes. They got off on a different floor, two decks above their quarters.

“Where--”

“Shh! Talking..."

Rio guided the taller man down the hall, taking note of the beads of sweat on his face, his slightly bleary gaze. Even though he’d been released from the infirmary, Caliph was far from well.

The brunet pulled them to a stop in front of an unfamiliar door, but instead of knocking Rio just pushed it aside, turning on the light, illuminating all their things just where they’d been two decks below, only a little more spread out.

A Lieutenant’s cabin.

“Wooww...”

Rio let that slide, because the word was mostly air.

Caliph just stared at the bed, the one with his footlocker at the end of it. The wide, long bed. Easing himself down with a grimace, he noticed the mattress and blankets were thicker, too.

“Whatcha think?”

“S’nice.”

Rio winced at the hoarse croak. “Shit, I asked for that one didn’t I?” the younger man blushed, scrubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, new rule: unless I specifically tell you to say something, don’t talk. Not even to answer my questions. You wait till you hear me say ‘Caliph answer me’ or ‘talk now.’ Got it?”

The blond nodded, looking suddenly exhausted.

“Okay," Rio's warm hand cupped the back of his neck, and it was as if his entire body leaned into the touch. "Let’s get you settled.”

-- -- --

Edited January 9, 2022 by starpollen

[VoOs]

I have so much LOVE for your Rio and Caliph, it's almost silly. This part nearly got me teary-eyed. Seriously. <3

[PaperThings]

Squee! I really, really love this story. Rio and Caliph are so sweet together! I love the way you write dialogue, also. It's so fabulous!! AMAZING, AMAZING, AMAZING!

[meepsy]

Rio and Caliph are both such amazingly complex characters...I honestly don't know who I love more!

[afanofthearts]

[Tarkus]

There isn't much more to say about this fic than !!!!!!AWESOME!!!!!!

I bow to you

[ooo]

Weary eyes blinked.

“hh... ? -MPXscHuu!” And a keening, pain-filled groan.

Followed by Rio’s hoarse guffaw.

Hehe, awwww.

“But I’m gonna spend the rest of our lives making it up to you,” Rio promised softly, swelling with hope for the first time in days. Then, he flashed a wicked grin. “It’s totally gonna freak you out.”

[LeapYearKisses]

Ah, so much love! XD I can't even begin to describe how awesome this story is. <33

[Aprilcot]

I cannot stop smiling!!!!

I love this!!!!

Please continue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Candy]

starpollen...I love you. Please don't ever stop writing

[obsessed]

Uhm, I think you just melted me with cuteness and killed me with angst.

GAH. I'm sending out major love-waves right now, so I hope you're getting those.

[starpollen]

Awww you guys

I've been really really busy this summer - busier than I was supposed to be (seriously: I took the summer off. Or thought I did...) - but have started another part. Not sure how long it will go on... have a couple of ideas nibbling at my brain for a sequel involving other characters... We'll see what develops!

Thanks for reading it!!

[everest]

Woot woot!

You're writing more! I can't wait!

[starpollen]

Next part. Hopefully it will make up for the fact that it took so freakin' long to post. I apologize for that!

Oh, and don't worry about Z... I've got a few ideas for him! Just so you know!

Part 8

Caliph hadn’t felt this off-balance in a very, very long time.

He let Rio ease him down into the bed - the younger man’s strong arms supporting most of his weight to take the burden off his injured shoulder - staring up at the brunet with what he only supposed must be absolute bewilderment as Riordan pulled the blankets up and... tucked him in. When the younger man slipped another throat lozenge between Caliph’s dry lips and smoothed a calloused palm over his forehead, all he could do was blink.

Who the hell WAS this??

If it weren’t for the fact that Rio had also spent time in the infirmary - and been thoroughly tested and scanned - Caliph might have suspected some mental invasion by an alien consciousness.

What he really wanted to do was ask what the hell Rio wanted, why he was doing stuff like this... this gentle, almost affectionate stuff. He couldn’t help but be torn between instinctively mistrusting anything good that came from Riordan... and relishing the physical contact that had been all too rare in his life until about a week ago.

If he were honest with himself, Rio’s thoughtful touches were about the best goddamned thing he’d ever felt.

Sucking blissfully on the analgesic, he watched Rio carefully set his medications out on the nightstand between their beds - a real one with drawers - along with a fresh bottle of water. The last time he’d lain in his bunk, he’d been thirsty as hell, his throat raw and parched with sickness. And even though his fever had broken, he had to admit he still felt pretty shitty: achy, congested, and tired. The short walk from the infirmary had drained him beyond belief.

And, dammit... Somehow going from vertical to horizontal meant he had to sneeze.

He couldn’t help the drawn-out groan of dread as the tickle wormed its way through his inflamed sinuses. He didn’t want to sneeze... why did he have to be saddled with a goddamned sinus infection when he’d just been fucking shot?...

“hkg-gh-heih...” he choked out a shuddering breath, the tickle building to a crawling itch that threatened to drive him crazy if he couldn’t sneeze it out... but Caliph clamped down at its peak, stopping all movement in his chest as he struggled to fight the overwhelming urge.

“Gotta sneeze, huh?” Rio’s low voice was rich, dark velvet, and very close to his ear...

Caliph shook his head, still stubbornly refusing to take a breath. If he did, he’d sneeze. And it would hurt so bad...

He wasn’t sure if it was the shock, or the inevitability of passages packed with a rampant infection that did it... but when he felt Rio’s warm body sliding under the sheets - slipping a tissue into his uninjured hand and pressing hard against him from shoulder to hip - he gasped. And that gasp opened the floodgates.

“--hhh-HH??” no-no-no-no...

“It’s okay,” warm lips brushed his temple, strong arms sliding around to hold him so wonderfully tight . “I’ve got you.”

“Hhk’NKGPHsch!...” the first one ripped through him, dragging all available air from his lungs. But instead of excruciating pain he only felt moderate twinges of discomfort.

“There ya go.”

Which made it so much easier to give in to the second wet double, “hhk-NGSSCHuh!- EhHKTSSChuuh!” Those came easier, freer. Blissful.

“That’s it. Better?”

The blond nodded vaguely, eyes still closed as relief sang through his body. The few seconds after those sneezes felt ridiculously good...

Rio shifted, and Caliph was suddenly aware how close the other man was.

Tingles of hot awareness danced down the side of Caliph’s body at every point that was touching Riordan: the smaller man’s strong arms carefully banding his shoulders, square chin resting against his hair, that hard chest moving with each slow breath and thrumming with his steady heartbeat, one lean hip digging into his side...

Wait, that’s...

Not a hip. Oh. Oh.

Caliph gasped, eyes flying open to stare at Rio. Those smoldering amber depths were eye-crossingly close, piercing him with their heat and swirling like liquid gold. A beat of time hovered that was so still, suspended, like a drop poised to fall.

Then, dark lashes fluttered, and velvet lips hesitantly brushed Caliph’s, blanketing them with soft heat. Rio’s tongue lightly laved his shill’s lower lip, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his skull.

Someone's heart was thumping very loudly; he couldn't work out whose it was... and one of them was having trouble breathing. It might have been him.

Rio was kissing him. Rio was kissing him...

Caliph began to tremble, overwhelmed. He was drowning in sensation, his insides jerking around all over the place. Drinking Rio’s breath like a man dying of thirst and suffocation and a heart attack all at the same time. A feeling swelled in his chest, something so necessary and tender and terrifying that he thought he’d shatter into a thousand jagged pieces if it stopped and that his heart would swell and burst if it didn't.

Safe. Whole.

For the first time in his life, he truly understood what those words meant.

Then, Rio suddenly jerked back. Gray eyes stared into gold, unblinking, and the drop scattered.

The brunet scrambled out of bed, crossing the room and dropping to his haunches to dig around in his footlocker for something. Caliph immediately felt the loss of heat, and bit his cheek to keep from calling out the younger man’s name.

Because he honestly didn’t know what he would say after that.

“Okay, well, um...” Rio stammered, apparently not finding whatever he was looking for and running a nervous hand through his hair, looking everywhere but at his shill. “I’m gonna... uh...”

It hit Caliph then. Rio needed to get the hell out of there, couldn't do it fast enough. And the thought sent a shaft of pain through Caliph’s chest that had nothing to do with his injury.

The bigger man turned his head away and closed his eyes. He desperately needed to sleep, was so dizzy and sick that he couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around what might have just happened... if it even happened...

“Right,” Rio muttered, yanking open the door to their new cabin. “Um, see ya later.”

And then he was gone.

Caliph clumsily closed the tissue around his nose to give a one-handed blow, still unable to move any of the congestion in his head. With the tissue still clutched in his palm, he touched his fingertips lightly to his lower lip- remembering - a sudden stinging wetness behind his eyes.

-- -- --

Rio stalked down the hall to the Head, slamming the door closed and leaning his hands on the sink. He lowered his head and took several deep, long breaths.

He couldn’t believe it. He’d almost humiliated himself, almost... lost it... like a kid. Just from a kiss. One fucking kiss.

God, but what a kiss...

He could still feel those hard muscles under his hands, the silky slip of Caliph’s hair through his fingers as he cradled his head, the achingly sweet taste of his firm lips...

Groaning, Rio splashed some water on his face, careful not to get any in his mouth. Dammit! He had to stop. If he didn’t, he’d have one hell of an embarrassing situation.

The only option was to distract himself: to go seek out the boys. For the first time in years, though, it was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to go back and take Caliph in his arms, slip his tongue into his shill’s startled mouth... tease the man’s frustratingly elusive tongue with his own...

Rio stop!

He huffed, jerking his gaze up to the mirror. Sure enough, his pupils were dilated, obliterating the gold irises and turning his eyes nearly black with want.

More cold water, this time slicking back his hair and running a damp hand across the back of his overheated neck. He’d go play some cards, maybe sneak an extra turn in the private video lounges on the upper deck... one of the guys on shift up there owed him a favor. When he’d exhausted himself with that, maybe it would be safe to come back, to be in Caliph’s company again without being so goddamned distracted...

-- -- --

Caliph slept, but not well, little muscles in his jaw and neck ticking as he was plagued by restless dreams. The blue knife kept hovering on the edges, limned by the green fire of the alien pistol, becoming a specter of death that darted after him as he ran. The corridor was endless, each door he rattled locked tight, and he couldn’t find Rio. He called the younger man’s name, frantic, nearly vibrating with anxiety that ratcheted ever higher as the knife got closer and he couldn’t seem to run fast enough. And he couldn’t find Rio. He couldn’t find him...

Safe. Whole. Safe. Whole. Safe. Whole.

Brown eyes suddenly appeared in front of him, so saturated with pain that he couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t breathe...

Jerking awake, Caliph shot upright in bed with a strangled cry. Dragging air into his burning lungs, his cry quickly turned to a hiss of pain as his chest pulled. Sweat was pouring down his face and neck, running in rivers between his shoulder blades and trickling down his breastbone to his stomach. He couldn’t see for a few minutes, vision blurred and grainy as he blinked the nightmare away.

He began to cough, hand splayed over his chest as the gravelly, rumbling spasms wracked his big frame and sent stabs of agony shooting through his left shoulder. They tumbled forth like rocks in a landslide, finally leaving him redfaced and wheezing as he struggled through the pain to catch his breath.

Caliph had no idea what time he’d last had any medicine. His trembling fingers reached for the pain pills and water, followed by the cough syrup as each whistling breath threatened to set him off again. It took several long minutes to dose up and get his breath back. Finally, blinking at the ship’s clock, he gave a long sigh and hauled himself to his feet. Dinner was only being served for another forty minutes, and his stomach was rumbling.

His life for the past ten years had either flashed by like a movie played at high speed - in a dull blur of fuzzy images and incomprehensible noise - or suddenly stopped dead, like a snapshot, and the focus had sharpened with an almost painful intensity. There'd been nothing in between until lately, when the two seemed to be blending into something approaching the kind of normalcy he watched everyone else having.

Everyone who wasn’t a shill.

Friends... family... Love.

Cradling his injured arm against his side, the big man made slow time getting to the galley. Finally shuffling inside, he was surprised to see Rio sitting with Dev, both men eating in silence.

“Hey, C,” Dev spotted him first and called out the light greeting, spearing another bite of meatloaf. “Glad to see you vertical, man.”

Rio didn’t look up.

Caliph flinched.

The chow line was thin, so he didn’t feel bad going slowly. He was forced to use both hands to support the tray the KP staff weighed down with beef stew, potatoes, and thick slices of bread, gritting his teeth as his knitted muscles burned.

“Gotta get you back on your feet, soldier,” the man serving the potatoes nodded as he scooped a hefty spoonful, and Caliph had to blink to place him. Right. One of the older cadets from the Academy... two or three years above he and Rio. His name wouldn’t come. So he just mumbled softly, keeping his head down.

“Thanks.”

Caliph paused at the end of the chow line, chewing on his chapped lower lip. He didn’t know where to sit: with Rio as he always had, or by himself... letting the man have the space he had so clearly needed after their... encounter.

When neither Rio nor Dev motioned to him - when Rio didn’t even glance up from his tray - he chose the latter.

Halfway to the tables, though, the blond slowed to a stop, blinking rapidly. A slow tingle was fluttering in his left nostril... his traitorous body deciding he needed to sneeze. Now.

God...

“uuh....hheh!...” Caliph struggled to hold back, blinking blearily around in a dread-laden panic. Just had to hold out until he could get his hands free... until he could set down the precariously laden tray. His left arm was already trembling with effort from its weight - if he jerked with a sneeze he didn’t think he could hang onto it . “ihh-hihh! -- hhh!!...”

It was no use.

“heh-HEH-heg’sNZSht!” He jerked to the right and smothered the sneeze in his shoulder, freezing in place as pain skittered down his left side. Then his left hand went numb, and he lost his grip on the tray. It clattered to the floor, drawing every eye in the room.

A few cackles echoed from a corner, and Caliph felt his cheeks flame like wildfire with embarrassment. But his nostrils were already flaring wide as his lower lip trembled with a second crawling sneeze.

“Hh’MPHgxkt!” he clamped his nose shut with his right hand, every muscle clenched tight as he rode out the fit. “hhh... h'NGhxzzsT!...” That one burst through his teeth, embarrassingly wet. Finally. He was done. He felt his body go clammy, the pain leaving him lightheaded and panting, hand cupped to his face.

“Ho-ly shit,” someone huffed under his breath, followed by another series of snickers.

Glancing down over his hand, Caliph could see that ‘ho-ly shit’ was right: stew was splattered in a three-foot radius, a sticky waterfall of brown juices on his pants from the knee down, the tray having come to rest upside down on his boots.

He blinked at it for a second, still lingering in the aftermath of the crippling pain, unable to process what he was supposed to do about it.

Dev put down his fork. “Dude,” he elbowed Rio. Hard. “You gonna go, I dunno, help him or something?” Both men saw the big blond standing in the middle of the room, staring helplessly at the mess at his feet while shielding the mess at his face with his good hand. His face was blotchy, a patchwork of embarrassed red and sickly gray.

Rio had the good sense to be abashed.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “Take my tray, will ya?” Standing, he stalked over to the condiment station to angrily snatch two huge handfuls of napkins. Turning, he saw his shill still just standing there, left arm crooked up awkwardly against his side, hair hanging over his eyes. He deftly tucked a napkin into the cupped right hand.

But before he could kneel to pick the tray up, one of the KP guys was there with a mop.

“I got it, man,” the KP said, waving one hand in the air as if shooing away a fly. “No worries. Happens three or four times a week. Especially on stew night.”

Somehow, that just made Caliph’s mottled blush deepen, so hard he was nearly purple.

“Breathe,” Rio ordered, clamping a firm hand on the taller man’s uninjured shoulder. The blond sucked in a stuttering breath, and that’s when Rio realized Caliph wasn’t just embarrassed. He was horrendously mortified, almost to the point of tears. “Come on,” he murmured gruffly, turning the big man around and pushing him toward the door. “You’re a goddamned mess.”

Twice on the way to the showers Rio had to steer Caliph away from a collision, the older man frighteningly oblivious. A glance at his face showed eyes that were too-wide, pupils little more than pin pricks of black in the glazed ocean of gray. Once in the large, moist room, the smaller man pushed his shill gently onto a bench, kneeling down to gingerly unlace the boots, mindful of the potatoes and gravy making the ropes a slippery, impossible mess.

“We probably left a trail of stew a good forty feet down the hall from the galley,” Rio muttered, making light conversation. When that drew no response, amber eyes glanced up, brows drawn. “Let it go, man. It’s just stew. No biggie.”

To tell the truth, Rio wasn't even close to 100% there, in the moment. Just before Caliph had come into the galley Dev had told him the shocking news.

Zeth and Marcum hadn’t made the Rift.

Rio had simply stared at his tray, not sure what to think, what to feel. Part of him denied that Z could possibly be dead, that the dark-skinned soldier who’d been like a big brother to him wouldn’t be around to try to bluff with a pair of threes. He held onto a scrap of hope that the missing pair had found their way into one of the many escape pods that had ejected before the enemy ship had been blown to hell: it had happened before, to other pairs. And it was something they were all trained to attempt if the realized they wouldn’t get back to the Rift before time ran out.

But that was several days ago, and no pod had been found.

Yet, he insisted stubbornly as he pulled off Caliph’s ruined boots and tossed them aside. Pod hasn’t been found yet. There was that one pair they been told about in training, who’d been found in their pod nearly two weeks after a blast. Dehydrated, weak from starvation, but alive.

If anybody could pull odds like that, it was Z.

“Hhg’xgSHtt!...” Caliph sneezed suddenly, tightly contained, blond head turned into his shoulder.

Glancing up, Rio saw his shill’s heavy-lidded gray eyes fighting not to flutter, mauve lips barely hovering open, as if the blond was trying to press them shut and failing miserably. The tip of that devilishly tempting pink tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip, causing one nostril to twitch dangerously. The bigger man’s entire body was strung taut, muscles trembling in tiny quivers as he radiated unwilling dread.

Rio couldn’t take his eyes off him.

Finally, inevitably, Caliph jerked to the side with a second half-squelched sneeze into his right shoulder, his his injured arm curled against his side like a broken bird’s wing.

“Hh’MPHgxkt! -uhhg.”

Stifling brought absolutely no relief, just made Caliph need to sneeze more. ““h'NGhxSHHt!...” He pressed his nose hard against the shoulder bone, feeling the damp spray cut through the thin fabric of his T-shirt and christen his skin. Caliph barely managed to drag in a stuttering gasp before yet another sneeze wrenched him double, making his eyes water. “Hh!... --Hhg-’zZNSCHtt!” The blond scrambled to grab onto the edge of the bench with his good hand, clutching to keep himself from pitching towards the floor.

“Whoa, steady,” Rio’s hands caught him, both palms pressing his shoulders back. But Caliph grimaced and groaned when the heel of Rio’s hand dug into his wound. “Shit, man, I’m sorry,” the hand disappeared, coming to rest instead on Caliph’s hip.

A long, weary sigh, followed by several sharp sniffles. Those sneezes hadn’t brought nearly the same relief as the ones in the cabin... when Rio had held him hard, bracing him, keeping his body from ripping itself apart.

The way he didn't now.

It was obvious the kiss had changed everything. Even though he was still the same person, now Caliph was aware of Rio on a completely different level.

He just wished he knew how the brunet felt about it. Although, his stomach sank, he was pretty sure he had an idea.

Rio made himself stay still while he took several long breaths. It had taken all his self-control not to slide next to the blonde and pull him close, holding him tight while he shuddered and shook helplessly. He could tell the sneezing hurt, hated himself for being too much of a coward to put his hang-ups aside and ease the blond’s pain.

But he was terrified that if he did, Caliph would feel what he did to him. It was... painfully obvious.

He forced himself to think of snow, of drilling in the freezing rain, of slipping in mud and then cleaning it out of his gun. Mentally going through the metal parts in sequential order. Finally, he was able to stand and pull his shill to his feet, guiding him around the bench to one of the shower heads.

“Strip,” he ordered, turning to the side before he was tempted to watch. He heard Caliph’s half-swallowed grunts of discomfort as he struggled out of his pants. The shower flicked on, there were a few splashes as the mess on his legs was rinsed away, and then it flicked off.

Then silence.

Daring a quick glance, Rio saw Caliph leaned against the tile, eyes shut, nearly asleep on his feet.

Oh for the love of...

He snatched a towel from the rack, “Come on,” Rio grit his teeth and stepped to the blond’s side, slipping the towel around his lean waist, followed by his arm. “Up you go, big boy.”

Easing the drowsy man back onto the nearby bench, Rio braced himself, pulled off the towel, and felt a wave of heat go through him. Caliph's legs were long and built, his thighs and calves hard with muscles. Beautiful. Eyes travelling north, Rio nearly groaned out loud.

"Jesus!" Rio whispered shakily, staring and absently licking his lips as his own desire surged again to throbbing life. He broke off quickly and looked down, unsure what he’d do if the blond caught him staring. My God, what’ve you done to me... he thought. I'm like a kid staring through the windows of a goddamned candy store...

Then, he saw something he’d never noticed before... a series of circular scars on the inside of Caliph’s thigh. Old scars, white with age.

“Caliph,” he reached out and closed a hand around the sagging blond’s forearm, giving it a firm shake. “Look at me.” Two glazed gray slits appeared in the pale face. “Hey..." he touched his finger to the scars. "What are those?”

The bigger man blinked, slow gaze sluggishly tracking where Rio was pointing. His brow furrowed for a split second, then Rio saw comprehension settle. A flicker of anger - so quick he wasn’t even sure he saw it. Then back to emotionless passivity.

“Caliph, answer me,” he ordered, in a tone he’d never used before. Jesus, he sounded like his father... “What. Are. Those.”

Startled gray eyes jerked up to stare at stubborn gold. A moment that lingered into eternity.

“...burns.”

The pale lips barely moved, his shill’s wide gaze stricken and unblinking. Shuttered. Alone in memories of pain.

Rio struggled to remember back to when he’d been nine years old, staring at the rail-thin blond in tattered jeans. His adult brain was easily able to discern that Caliph had been malnourished, pale cheeks just this side of gaunt. Did he remember any marks? No. His new shill had worn long sleeves. And it wasn’t until the Academy that he saw Caliph without his clothes...

But now that he thought about it, he vaguely remembered the ten-year-old walking stiffly, wincing a little when sitting at dinner that night. And the whispers of a couple of the servants about that poor boy...

Arrogant ass that he’d been, Riordan had assumed they were talking about him.

He didn’t even remember asking his parents where Caliph had come from: he was only focused on making him go away. Yet more damning evidence that Rio didn't deserve to have this man, this...

“From before,” Rio stated, cutting off the confusing thoughts. Something so horrendous could never have happened to his shill in the last ten years. Under his very nose. “When you were a kid. Before you came to us.” To me.

One slow blink. And cheeks that flushed beet red. It was all the answer he needed.

Anger swept through him, sudden and hot. Fury that someone had dared touch his shill, his-- Caliph. His Caliph. -- cruelly enough to leave life-long marks.

But the blond was at his limit, dropping his head with a slurpy sniffle and raising his hand to cough hoarsely against the back of it. It jerked Rio sharply back to the present.

Sinus infection. Recently shot. Healing from surgery. Right.

Shaking his head to clear it, and silently begging his body to behave, Rio slipped Caliph’s pants over his feet, up his legs and, managing to lift him slightly with minimal help from the blond, over his firm, beautifully rounded ass and up to his waist. Flushed with heat, he knotted the drawstring and heaved a huge sigh.

“Hh-eeh! ...”

Caliph wound up for another sneeze, breaking off in the middle for a weak moan of protest. This time Rio didn't hesitate, simply slipped onto the bench next to him, arms going around the blond in a hard embrace. Perfect. Right.

“... hsz'NGxSSHHiuu! Heh??...” another one came hard on its heels. “--EKkgNTshuuhh!”

And a long, low sigh so saturated with relief that Rio couldn’t help but grin. The heavy blond head dropped to Rio’s shoulder, and the sculpted body went lax.

“Feels good when we do that, huh?” the brunet murmured gently, tightening his arms and giving his shill a brief squeeze. Felt ten feet tall when the stoic, stable super-soldier leaned further into his embrace. “Shit,” he blinked, suddenly noticing the clock on the wall. “We missed your meds. Dammit.”

“Took... pain pills,” Caliph whispered slowly, careful not to use his abused vocal chords. “... cough syrup.”

“But no antibiotics.”

Half a shrug.

“God, what am I going to do with you?” another quick squeeze took the sting out of the words, then Rio gently pulled the ill and injured man to his sluggish feet. “Baby, you’re never gonna get well at this rate...”

Caliph could barely function, barely link two thoughts together. He was so very tired. And Rio was holding him, the smaller, lean body flush and warm against his. Those strong arms held him securely, gently. That feeling that had welled in his chest earlier - that tender, terrifying rush - now floated lightly in his chest like a summer balloon. It was sweet, and beautiful. If he was dreaming, he hoped he’d never wake.

Somehow they got back to the cabin, though Caliph couldn’t have said how. One minute he was on the hard bench in the warm shower, head resting comfortably on Rio’s shoulder, the next he was floating, a strong arm around his waist as lights came in and out of focus. And the next he was being tucked into his nice, big bed.

He knew dimly that Rio was trying to coax him to take the pills he’d missed, but he just couldn’t keep his eyes open. Felt the irresistible pull of exhaustion, and within three breaths was asleep.

Rio sighed, shaking his dark head and pursing his lips. He was worried about Caliph, about the wracking sneezes that were proof of the stubborn sinus infection's claws still sunk into his shill's tender tissues. But he couldn't bring himself to wake the man, simply brushed the light blond hair away from his shill’s closed eyes and wondered at his sudden need to make sure that this man knew no more loneliness or pain for the rest of his life. The urge to crawl in next to him... to hold the older man close and press a kiss to the smooth, pale brow.

And, after only a second’s hesitation... he quit wondering. And simply did.

Edited January 9, 2022 by starpollen