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FIC: Surprises [Original Characters, PG-13]
I have been diving deep into a lot of personal projects and haven't been feeling super creative lately, but this popped into my head a few days ago and demanded to be written.
Title: Surprises
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Troy/Johnny/Mick
Warnings: brief mentions of COVID, alcoholism/drinking, BDSM dynamics
Summary: Date night is full of surprises this week.
Halfway through his post-workout shower, Troy’s stomach began rumbling with hunger. He could practically tell time by his stomach, so it was no surprise to find it was quarter past twelve when he emerged from the staff locker room. Droplets of water clung to his hair or ran down the back of his neck to drip onto his gray coat and striped scarf.
At least half the back office staff were already out to lunch, but Troy knew better than to ask Johnny to take a break right now. Friday at lunchtime was just about the last time you could get someone’s attention on social media before they completely checked out for the day or unplugged for the weekend. “Lunch run!” he announced as he approached the maddeningly tidy desk. “What can I get for you, luv?”
Johnny looked up from the tablet balanced between his torso and keyboard and the phone in one of his hands. “Ah…” He cleared his throat a few times, brows furrowed in frustration until he succeeded in getting his words out clearly. He was always so focused on his screens, it had probably been hours since he’d used his voice. “Fish and chips if you’re running across the street. If you’re going to Tesco, I don’t know… whatever sandwich looks good. Surprise me.”
Knowing full well the shocking beauty of his dimpled face when he smiled, he turned it full blast toward Johnny. “Oh, I’m pretty good at surprises. Don’t forget tonight is–”
“Date night,” Johnny finished his sentence with such a note of affection in his tone that it made Troy’s eyes sparkle with delight.
Friday nights never disappointed. Mick’s restaurant was especially popular on Friday nights, so their chef and lover usually didn’t get home until two or even three in the morning. That meant that when Troy finished leading his late afternoon cardio class at the gym, they had hours upon hours of time when it was just the two of them together. Sometimes Johnny even had a paddle out, waiting for Troy to walk in the door and march his arse right over to Johnny. Other times, there was slow teasing, building up to satisfying orgasm after orgasm. Sometimes they headed out to a club. And, other times, Johnny surprised him with something especially unexpected. Those were the times Troy liked the most. He loved being able to put all his trust into a man who knew what he liked, knew what he desired even before Troy could find the words to request it.
With no work to do, Saturday mornings were the only days when they could have a lie-in together. Mick would be so exhausted from work and Johnny and Troy would be so exhausted from their fun the night before, that all three of them often stayed in bed until noon. And often the only thing that made them get up even then was Troy’s rumbling tummy. It was a wonderful night followed by a wonderful morning. It was no wonder Troy so looked forward to this every week.
“I’ve got something special p-planned.” Johnny’s dark brows furrowed again, and quickly he pressed the cuff of his white dress shirt to his face. “Hehhtshhhhh!”
“Bless.” Troy knew Johnny’s desk like the back of his own hand, or Johnny’s hand, or Mick’s hand, for that matter. Which is how he knew Johnny had no tissues. So Troy reached over the wall of the adjoining cubicle to pluck the tissue box off Leonard’s desk. “Here you are, Sir.”
At the sound of those words, Johnny got a sudden, soft, slightly far-away and wholly pleased look on his face as he pulled a tissue from the box. With a sniff, he dabbed at his nose a couple times then dropped the tissue into the bin.
Troy tossed the box back onto the neighboring desk, where it landed on the other side of the computer from where it had started out. Troy didn’t care and Leonard wouldn’t notice. But Johnny’s eyes darted toward his cubicle wall, as if he could see right through it and the infographics tacked up on the board, to disapprove of the placement. He didn’t tell Troy to correct it, however, so Troy didn’t do anything except swoop down and place a small, workplace-appropriate kiss on Johnny’s lips before pulling back a little. “I’ll go get the food. Is there… anything else you want?”
Johnny put a finger beneath Troy’s chin and guided him in close again. He gave his man an even stronger kiss, full of appreciation and reassurance and longing. “I have absolutely everything I want.” He took advantage of the proximity to jam a knit hat on Troy’s head, pulling the sides down over Troy’s ears. At the sound of protest Troy made, Johnny gave him his best ‘don’t argue with me’ expression. “I forbid you to go out into the freezing cold with wet hair. You’ll catch your death. Can’t have you missing our date night. In fact, let me get you another scarf…”
“I’m fine!” Troy laughed at the fussing, so bundled up already he was at risk of overheating inside before he went anywhere for lunch. “And I’m off!”
“Almost.” Johnny grabbed his coat and pulled him in for just one more kiss.
Feeling warm right down to his toes, Troy left Go Figure absolutely beaming.
Hoping there would be time for him to indulge in a quick after-work snack before Johnny took charge of their evening, Troy mapped out their spacious kitchen in his mind. The pantry was furthest, but that’s where the power bars were. There were some leftovers in the freezer, but that would take time to defrost and heat up. He might have to settle for a quick protein shake from the fridge.
The first thing Troy heard when he walked into the flat was the sound of coughing coming from the direction of one of the bathrooms. Then there was a rattle-filled thud and what sounded like a hundred marbles rolling across a tiled floor. Almost immediately thereafter, he heard a litany of Spanish words. Troy had always been pretty shit at languages, but he could tell from the tone alone that Johnny was cursing up a storm.
“I’m home!” Troy called out, not wanting to startle or surprise the man.
The reply was a thump followed by even louder, more vicious swearing.
When Troy got to the threshold of the bathroom, he saw Johnny in nothing but pants, on his hands and knees amidst a sea of little, white, Paracetamol tablets. Johnny lifted his head, frustration clear on his face. “¡Sorpresa!,” The exclamation dripped with irony.
Troy didn’t need a translator app for that one. He squatted down to help pick up pills, and Johnny gave his small growl of disapproval. Troy ducked his head submissively and looked down at the mess, spotting the now empty medicine bottle that had rolled between the toilet and bath. “Please, let me help you.”
After a moment’s pause, Johnny gave a small sigh and sat back on his heels, defeated. He swept one hand out in the direction of the pills and pressed the other to his forehead. “Okay, fine.” And then, more softly, “Thanks.”
As he scooped up pills in his cupped hands and dropped them into the bin, Troy risked a quick glance over at Johnny. He was rubbing his hand back and forth across his forehead. “It’s my fault, anyway.”
“Wha…” Johnny’s voice broke, and he cleared his throat a couple of times before trying again. “Why do you say that?”
“I caught you by surprise when I came home..”
Johnny smiled, though he kept rubbing. “I banged my head. But it’s not your fault. I already had a splitting headache before that. Hence the…” He gestured again to the remaining spilled pills.
“I think we have more Paracetamol in the master bathroom cabinet. I’ll go check.” Troy smiled as he met Johnny’s gaze and saw a hint of a smile returned. “And I know for a fact we have ice packs in the freezer.” Troy was no stranger to icing a pulled muscle. After rounding up the last of the pills, he reached out and stroked Johnny’s upper arm. “Be right back, luv.”
And he was right back, not five minutes later. But he hovered in the doorway an extra few moments, because it looked like Johnny might not want to be snuck up on again.
Johnny had his face buried in both hands. “Heytchoo!” He rocked forward and back. “Hihkkshhh!” Forward and back again.
“Bless.” There was a tissue box in the closet outside the bathroom that Troy ripped open. He settled on the floor next to Johnny, snuggling up to his side as he squeezed himself in the space between the wall, the under-the-sink cabinet, and his lover. He offered the box first, silently, the corner bumping Johnny’s hand until Johnny took a tissue. There was a barely perceptible flush in his cheeks as he wiped his wet hands dry and dabbed at his nose, sniffling. “Successfully located another bottle,” Troy said, pulling off the plastic wrapper and undoing the safety cap before shaking only two pills out into his palm. He always kept a few, full water bottles in the fridge for workouts or recovery, and he handed one to Johnny now along with the pills.
Johnny nodded and swallowed both pills at once with a great gulp. A gulp that was, perhaps, too great. He coughed and sputtered and coughed, the pills almost coming up twice. He kept them down with the help of another few gulps, though each and every swallow made him wince in pain. Frustrated and thoroughly trounced, Johnny sat back against the cabinet door with his eyes closed.
Tentatively, Troy moved in with the ice pack, crinkling the plastic a little as an audible warning. “Here,” he said, nudging Johnny’s hand away from his forehead and pressing the cold there instead.
Johnny winced and shivered and pulled it away at once. Then he slapped it to the back of his head, just at the base. “This is where the countertop got me.”
Troy considered asking if he should go get a second ice pack. But that was only one of a million questions racing through his mind at the moment that he wanted to ask. Are you ill? Are you coming down with a cold? How long have you been feeling poorly? Did you take a COVID home test? What was the result? But instead of any of these questions, he asked, quietly, “Will you be sleeping on the couch tonight?”
Johnny’s already closed eyes shut more tightly as his face screwed up with another expression of pain. Still holding the cold pack in place, he bobbed his head up and down in a nod.
It was the kindest way to ask and the easiest way to answer. But Troy had a follow-up that was more than just kind. “Good thing there’s plenty of room on the couch for two.”
Johnny opened his eyes at that, surprised and maybe even overwhelmed by the sentiment. But Johnny had spent a night or two on the couch with Troy when Troy had been laid up with a cold and banished there by Mick. It seemed only right to return the favor now.
“Assuming you want me t–”
“Of course I do.” He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “I always want my good boy to keep me company.Sniff! Assuming you don’t mind my cold.”
“Assuming it is a cold?” He took hold of Johnny’s free hand and gave a tug, helping the man up to his feet, steadying him as they walked down the hallway to the living room.
Shaking his head, “I took a test as soon as I got home. Negative for COVID. I’ll take another one tomorrow to be sure, but this feels just like one of my colds. No trace of fever or chills. I can still taste and smell. It’s just the sore throat, coughing, and sneezing.” He rubbed at his forehead again. “And this pounding headache.”
“I might be able to help a little with that,” he said, channeling his inner Marcus and David. As Johnny settled onto the living room couch, pulling a quilt around himself and piling cushions up so he could recline in a mostly upright position, Troy stripped his clothes off. When he was down to just his pants like Johnny, he joined his lover on the couch.
Even with Johnny ill with cold, there was no question about who was the big spoon and who was the little spoon in their relationship. Troy curled into Johnny’s body, letting the taller man wrap an arm around him. But then Troy reached up to Johnny’s forehead. He pressed his thumb against one temple and his forefinger against the other. A firm massage made Johnny sigh and cough and clear his throat again. “You okay?”
“Mmph.” The sound was more affirmative than ambiguous, and Johnny closed his eyes to savor the touch. A moment later, he shook as deep coughs seized him. Troy snuggled in close to provide stability then resumed rubbing as soon as Johnny’s body relaxed again. “Dios mío. Feels wonderful.” Johnny spoke lightly, sparingly, as if to conserve his voice.
This was neither the date night Trou had envisioned nor hoped for. But he still felt a surprising sense of satisfaction in being able to be of service. It probably wasn’t a care-giving kink like David had. And when Johnny signaled to him to pause because a sneeze or two were imminent, there was no rush of anticipation and thrill the way Lucas had described his sneeze kink. But there was still a heady sort of pleasure in providing comfort, in recognizing he was helping, in knowing he was a good boy.
His attention was appreciated, even when it needed to be paused for a moment. “heh-h-Troy?” Johnny tapped a couple fingers urgently on Troy’s back. And Troy obediently moved the tissue box from the coffee table to the couch beside them. Johnny helped himself to a whole handful. “hehschfff! Heptchffffffff! hihshfffff!” This time, after sneezing, he blew his nose a couple times, readjusting the tissues after each blow and finishing off with a wipe. Johnny had just lowered his hand to drop the tissues over the side of the couch when he snapped them back up into place again as another sneeze caught him by surprise. “HEHtchhoo!”
“Bless,” Troy murmured, letting a kiss to Johnny’s clavicle accompany the soft sentiment. Johnny’s fingers stroked his back in response. The tissue box started to slip off the couch, but Troy caught it and placed it back on the coffee table again.
It wasn’t long before Johnny began to yawn. And as his yawns were easier to catch than his cold, Troy found himself joining in. They both fought off sleep for a little while, neither wanting to be the first to give in and nod off.
“S’been a long day.” Troy’s words vibrated soothingly against Johnny’s throat. “A long week, really.”
“Mmm.” Johnny coughed and struggled to keep his eyes open. But the winter sun had set, the glow fading from the living room curtains. They were so cozy on the couch, warmed by each other’s body heat and the thick quilt Johnny had taken from the closet. Staying awake was a battle they both easily lost.
Not long into his nap, Troy’s stomach woke him to remind him about dinner. He lifted his head to see Johnny passed out, sleeping deeply with his mouth open and his nose blocked just enough from congestion to cause him to snore. It was nothing like the deep, rumbling snores Mick treated them to every night, though. They were lighter, higher in pitch, and radiated contentment.
Careful not to wake his lover, Troy extricated himself from the coziness and gathered up his clothes that lay in small puddles around the living room couch. As he made his way to the bedroom laundry hamper, he pulled his mobile from the pocket of his jeans and made a quick call.
It rang once. Twice. Three times. Mick answered on the fourth ring, just before it went to voicemail. “Hey, what’re you doin’ callin’ me on yer date night?” There wasn’t a hint of jealousy in Mick’s voice, only confusion.
“Hi, luv. So sorry to bother you at work, but Johnny’s got a winter lurgy.”
“Aw, fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Did he test?”
“It was negative. None of the gym staff have COVID either, as far as I know.” Troy sat down on the edge of their bed, his fingers skimming the duvet in absentminded strokes as he talked.
“Thank God for small favors.”
“Yeah, but he’s still poorly. And before you say anything, I’ve already set him up on the couch.”
“Good man.”
Troy’s stomach gave another rumble. “I was wondering if you’d recommend something I could order for dinner.”
“Leave it to me.”
“No, Mick, you’re busy.”
“Never too busy for Johnny. Besides, we just finished the prep and we haven’t been slammed yet by the dinner rush. I’ll whip something up and send someone over with it.”
“Cheers. You’re the best.”
“Oh, I’m aware. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” The words rolled out so easily but with so much heart.
Within an hour, the food had arrived. The door buzzer woke Johnny from sleep, but he remained on the couch as a combination of coughing and grogginess stuck with him.
“Hungry at all?” Troy asked, carrying the bag to the small, circular table that stood in a nebulous area of their floor plan, between their kitchen and the living room.
Johnny cleared his throat and shook his head. “Not really.” Then he paused, watching as Troy got utensils, plates, and glasses from the cupboard. “What’d you order?”
Troy took that curiosity to be a good sign. “Not really sure. Mick sent something. It’ll be a surprise to us both.” He pulled a container out of the brown paper bag. It had his name scrawled in sharpie on the cardboard, and a quick look inside showed what was most likely “Shepherd’s pie for me, I think. And for you…” He lifted the second container out. Considerably heavier, it came with scents of spices Troy could not identify, but the lid had been labeled with Johnny’s name.
By this time, Johnny’s curiosity had grown. He got up from the couch and came over to investigate. But he was only halfway across the living room when Troy stopped him. “Oh no you don’t. You go back and get that blanket.”
“Troy… hihhh!”
“And the tissue box, too.”
“Hihptshhhhhh!” Johnny sneezed into his cupped hand, even as he tried to head it off by pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Agreeing that he really did need the tissues, he went back for both. And when he shuffled back across the living room toward the table that served as their dining area, he muttered, “Bossy bottom.”
Troy, who couldn’t count the number of times he’d called Johnny a service top with a similar tone, smiled to himself and pretended he hadn’t heard the comment. “Looks like Mick made you some sort of stew. It’s got… well, it’s got whole chicken breasts in it for one.”
“What?” Johnny’s shuffling morphed into quick walking as he hurried over. He took one look at the stew and exhaled with a grateful, “Oh, Mikito!” He snatched a spoon up from a place setting, dipped it in, and sampled the food. The taste made him close his eyes and tilt his head back. The expression of bliss on his face was not unlike the one he got after he came. And the stream of Spanish words that fell from his mouth were filled with amazement and reverence.
“What’re you on about?” asked Troy, dropping into a chair and dishing shepherd’s pie onto his plate. “What is that then?”
“Asopao de Pollo.” Johnny sat down as well and took another spoonful straight from the container, not bothering to transfer it to a dish or bowl. “My abuelita would make this every time someone came down sick. It’s like the Puerto Rican version of chicken soup.” He practically moaned as he swallowed another bite. “Garlic and veggies, rice, ham, tomato sauce, sofrito… how did he know to make this?”
“You never told him about your grandmother making it?”
Johnny thought about this as he helped himself to more. “I don’t think so. I guess he could have googled to find out it’s a popular dish. But where’d he even find adobo or sazon?” As he swallowed another spoonful, he did actually moan. “And how’d he make it so damn good? It’s perfect!”
Troy cleared the table of the take away bag and got the pitcher of filtered water from the fridge. It was times like this when he might have liked to kick back with a beer or two, but their house was dry. Of course, he could go out and hit a bar any time he liked, but he wasn’t going to leave Johnny when the man wasn’t feeling well. Drinking could wait until tomorrow night when he had a date across town planned.
It seemed that Johnny’s thoughts had strayed in the same general direction. Because as Troy poured water from the pitcher into their glasses, Johnny reached out and stroked Troy’s forearm. “Sorry for ruining our date night.”
“Not your fault, luv.” He sunk back into his seat and tucked in.
“But I had big plans. And you were expecting a…” He paused to cough a few times and rub at his nose. “A night of fun. And instead you got…” With a self-deprecating smile, he gestured to himself. His tall frame with a quilt wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. The crease on the side of his handsome face where it had been pushed into the couch cushion while sleeping. His runny nose that seemed to be even runnier when exposed to the spices in the whatever-it-was-called or maybe just the steam from it. “You know, if you want to go out and pick up–”
“No.” Troy reacted so quickly he surprised even himself. Then, borrowing Johnny’s words from earlier, he said, “I have absolutely everything I could want. And I’m right where I want to be.” He rose from his chair again to lean forward, over the table, and kiss his lover. The flavors and spices on his lips were nothing Troy recognized, but those lips themselves were a familiar comfort. He’d kissed hundreds of men, maybe even thousands; Troy didn’t keep score. But there was no one like Johnny. Johnny was belonging. Johnny was home. “The only other thing I could possibly want right now is for you to feel better.” Troy settled back down in his seat, pleased to see the smile on Johnny’s face.
Though it didn’t last long. Johnny rubbed the side of his hand at his nose a few times as he bought himself time to chew and swallow before diving back into the box of tissues he’d been reminded to bring over. Not wanting to stare at Johnny trying to hold off sneezes, Troy looked down at his dinner and pushed his fork around the mashed potatoes, meat, and veggies that remained. It was all starting to look less and less appetizing.
“hihh-Ihshhoo! Hihshhffffff!” Johnny made an apologetic sort of grunt and blew his nose. He sniffed and coughed and helped himself to water, wincing with each swallow. He was miserable, and Troy was having a hard time trying to eat and ignore it.
Troy took another few bites but realized he wasn’t all that hungry anymore. There was a stronger craving taking hold. So Troy slipped out of his seat, walked to Johnny’s side, and then sunk down onto his knees.
“Troy, you don’t have anything to prove to me.”
Troy laid his cheek on Johnny’s thigh and closed his eyes. “I know that. And you don’t need to do anything special. I just… I want this right now. Please?”
Johnny’s hand stroked his head, long fingers slipping through his hair, brushing his ear, tracing the curves of his neck. “You’ve got it. You’ve got me.”
Letting out a satisfied sigh, Troy let his body relax, go slack, get lost in the touch.
Neither the winter morning sun peeking through the curtains nor Troy’s hunger were to blame for rousing Troy from sleep the next morning. The culprit was immediately identified as the steaming mug of coffee Mick held as he stood by the couch.
“That had better be for me,” Troy said, wriggling and scooting and finally pushing himself up into a kneeling position on the furthest cushion from the ones Johnny was sprawled upon. Mick was already holding the mug out in offering, and Troy took a sip from it the moment it was in his hands. His gratitude for having coffee was surpassed only by his gratitude for coffee that was so dark and rich with only the smallest dash of sugar for balance. “This gives me life!”
Mick chuckled softly, the sound partly muffled by the KN95 mask he wore.
“Do I get some?” Troy’s careful maneuvering had apparently woken Johnny after all.
“Nope,” Mick disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two more mugs. One he held against his own sizable chest, the other he extended toward Johnny. “But you do get mint tea. It’s good for sore throats.”
“I’ve sniff definitely got one of… of th-those,” Johnny said, his voice rough and broken.
Troy pressed the box of tissues to Johnny’s chest and then intercepted the mug. “But, first, you get tissues.”
Johnny nodded as his half-lidded eyes rolled upward. He pulled tissues from the box and buried the lower half of his face into them. “Hitchhfffff! Ihhhshhfffff!”
“Bless you.” Mick beat Troy to it, eyebrows arching playfully at Troy who pretended for a moment that he was upset instead of what he really was: amused.
When the sneezes gave way to merely sniffles, Troy handed the tea over. Johnny held the mug in both hands and blew across the surface of the liquid before taking a tiny, cautious sip. He barely winced and immediately repeated the blowing and sipping process.
This wasn’t the lazy Saturday morning in bed with his lovers that Troy had been looking forward to all week, but he was surprised to realize it wasn’t half bad. All right, so Mick had a mask on, making it impossible for him to give one of his scratchy, nuzzly morning kisses. And Johnny was all sniffly with cold, probably ready to go right back to sleep again as soon as he finished his tea. But Troy was with his two favorite people in all the world, and he would take them any way he could get them.
Title: Surprises
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Troy/Johnny/Mick
Warnings: brief mentions of COVID, alcoholism/drinking, BDSM dynamics
Summary: Date night is full of surprises this week.
Surprises
Halfway through his post-workout shower, Troy’s stomach began rumbling with hunger. He could practically tell time by his stomach, so it was no surprise to find it was quarter past twelve when he emerged from the staff locker room. Droplets of water clung to his hair or ran down the back of his neck to drip onto his gray coat and striped scarf.
At least half the back office staff were already out to lunch, but Troy knew better than to ask Johnny to take a break right now. Friday at lunchtime was just about the last time you could get someone’s attention on social media before they completely checked out for the day or unplugged for the weekend. “Lunch run!” he announced as he approached the maddeningly tidy desk. “What can I get for you, luv?”
Johnny looked up from the tablet balanced between his torso and keyboard and the phone in one of his hands. “Ah…” He cleared his throat a few times, brows furrowed in frustration until he succeeded in getting his words out clearly. He was always so focused on his screens, it had probably been hours since he’d used his voice. “Fish and chips if you’re running across the street. If you’re going to Tesco, I don’t know… whatever sandwich looks good. Surprise me.”
Knowing full well the shocking beauty of his dimpled face when he smiled, he turned it full blast toward Johnny. “Oh, I’m pretty good at surprises. Don’t forget tonight is–”
“Date night,” Johnny finished his sentence with such a note of affection in his tone that it made Troy’s eyes sparkle with delight.
Friday nights never disappointed. Mick’s restaurant was especially popular on Friday nights, so their chef and lover usually didn’t get home until two or even three in the morning. That meant that when Troy finished leading his late afternoon cardio class at the gym, they had hours upon hours of time when it was just the two of them together. Sometimes Johnny even had a paddle out, waiting for Troy to walk in the door and march his arse right over to Johnny. Other times, there was slow teasing, building up to satisfying orgasm after orgasm. Sometimes they headed out to a club. And, other times, Johnny surprised him with something especially unexpected. Those were the times Troy liked the most. He loved being able to put all his trust into a man who knew what he liked, knew what he desired even before Troy could find the words to request it.
With no work to do, Saturday mornings were the only days when they could have a lie-in together. Mick would be so exhausted from work and Johnny and Troy would be so exhausted from their fun the night before, that all three of them often stayed in bed until noon. And often the only thing that made them get up even then was Troy’s rumbling tummy. It was a wonderful night followed by a wonderful morning. It was no wonder Troy so looked forward to this every week.
“I’ve got something special p-planned.” Johnny’s dark brows furrowed again, and quickly he pressed the cuff of his white dress shirt to his face. “Hehhtshhhhh!”
“Bless.” Troy knew Johnny’s desk like the back of his own hand, or Johnny’s hand, or Mick’s hand, for that matter. Which is how he knew Johnny had no tissues. So Troy reached over the wall of the adjoining cubicle to pluck the tissue box off Leonard’s desk. “Here you are, Sir.”
At the sound of those words, Johnny got a sudden, soft, slightly far-away and wholly pleased look on his face as he pulled a tissue from the box. With a sniff, he dabbed at his nose a couple times then dropped the tissue into the bin.
Troy tossed the box back onto the neighboring desk, where it landed on the other side of the computer from where it had started out. Troy didn’t care and Leonard wouldn’t notice. But Johnny’s eyes darted toward his cubicle wall, as if he could see right through it and the infographics tacked up on the board, to disapprove of the placement. He didn’t tell Troy to correct it, however, so Troy didn’t do anything except swoop down and place a small, workplace-appropriate kiss on Johnny’s lips before pulling back a little. “I’ll go get the food. Is there… anything else you want?”
Johnny put a finger beneath Troy’s chin and guided him in close again. He gave his man an even stronger kiss, full of appreciation and reassurance and longing. “I have absolutely everything I want.” He took advantage of the proximity to jam a knit hat on Troy’s head, pulling the sides down over Troy’s ears. At the sound of protest Troy made, Johnny gave him his best ‘don’t argue with me’ expression. “I forbid you to go out into the freezing cold with wet hair. You’ll catch your death. Can’t have you missing our date night. In fact, let me get you another scarf…”
“I’m fine!” Troy laughed at the fussing, so bundled up already he was at risk of overheating inside before he went anywhere for lunch. “And I’m off!”
“Almost.” Johnny grabbed his coat and pulled him in for just one more kiss.
Feeling warm right down to his toes, Troy left Go Figure absolutely beaming.
*
Hoping there would be time for him to indulge in a quick after-work snack before Johnny took charge of their evening, Troy mapped out their spacious kitchen in his mind. The pantry was furthest, but that’s where the power bars were. There were some leftovers in the freezer, but that would take time to defrost and heat up. He might have to settle for a quick protein shake from the fridge.
The first thing Troy heard when he walked into the flat was the sound of coughing coming from the direction of one of the bathrooms. Then there was a rattle-filled thud and what sounded like a hundred marbles rolling across a tiled floor. Almost immediately thereafter, he heard a litany of Spanish words. Troy had always been pretty shit at languages, but he could tell from the tone alone that Johnny was cursing up a storm.
“I’m home!” Troy called out, not wanting to startle or surprise the man.
The reply was a thump followed by even louder, more vicious swearing.
When Troy got to the threshold of the bathroom, he saw Johnny in nothing but pants, on his hands and knees amidst a sea of little, white, Paracetamol tablets. Johnny lifted his head, frustration clear on his face. “¡Sorpresa!,” The exclamation dripped with irony.
Troy didn’t need a translator app for that one. He squatted down to help pick up pills, and Johnny gave his small growl of disapproval. Troy ducked his head submissively and looked down at the mess, spotting the now empty medicine bottle that had rolled between the toilet and bath. “Please, let me help you.”
After a moment’s pause, Johnny gave a small sigh and sat back on his heels, defeated. He swept one hand out in the direction of the pills and pressed the other to his forehead. “Okay, fine.” And then, more softly, “Thanks.”
As he scooped up pills in his cupped hands and dropped them into the bin, Troy risked a quick glance over at Johnny. He was rubbing his hand back and forth across his forehead. “It’s my fault, anyway.”
“Wha…” Johnny’s voice broke, and he cleared his throat a couple of times before trying again. “Why do you say that?”
“I caught you by surprise when I came home..”
Johnny smiled, though he kept rubbing. “I banged my head. But it’s not your fault. I already had a splitting headache before that. Hence the…” He gestured again to the remaining spilled pills.
“I think we have more Paracetamol in the master bathroom cabinet. I’ll go check.” Troy smiled as he met Johnny’s gaze and saw a hint of a smile returned. “And I know for a fact we have ice packs in the freezer.” Troy was no stranger to icing a pulled muscle. After rounding up the last of the pills, he reached out and stroked Johnny’s upper arm. “Be right back, luv.”
And he was right back, not five minutes later. But he hovered in the doorway an extra few moments, because it looked like Johnny might not want to be snuck up on again.
Johnny had his face buried in both hands. “Heytchoo!” He rocked forward and back. “Hihkkshhh!” Forward and back again.
“Bless.” There was a tissue box in the closet outside the bathroom that Troy ripped open. He settled on the floor next to Johnny, snuggling up to his side as he squeezed himself in the space between the wall, the under-the-sink cabinet, and his lover. He offered the box first, silently, the corner bumping Johnny’s hand until Johnny took a tissue. There was a barely perceptible flush in his cheeks as he wiped his wet hands dry and dabbed at his nose, sniffling. “Successfully located another bottle,” Troy said, pulling off the plastic wrapper and undoing the safety cap before shaking only two pills out into his palm. He always kept a few, full water bottles in the fridge for workouts or recovery, and he handed one to Johnny now along with the pills.
Johnny nodded and swallowed both pills at once with a great gulp. A gulp that was, perhaps, too great. He coughed and sputtered and coughed, the pills almost coming up twice. He kept them down with the help of another few gulps, though each and every swallow made him wince in pain. Frustrated and thoroughly trounced, Johnny sat back against the cabinet door with his eyes closed.
Tentatively, Troy moved in with the ice pack, crinkling the plastic a little as an audible warning. “Here,” he said, nudging Johnny’s hand away from his forehead and pressing the cold there instead.
Johnny winced and shivered and pulled it away at once. Then he slapped it to the back of his head, just at the base. “This is where the countertop got me.”
Troy considered asking if he should go get a second ice pack. But that was only one of a million questions racing through his mind at the moment that he wanted to ask. Are you ill? Are you coming down with a cold? How long have you been feeling poorly? Did you take a COVID home test? What was the result? But instead of any of these questions, he asked, quietly, “Will you be sleeping on the couch tonight?”
Johnny’s already closed eyes shut more tightly as his face screwed up with another expression of pain. Still holding the cold pack in place, he bobbed his head up and down in a nod.
It was the kindest way to ask and the easiest way to answer. But Troy had a follow-up that was more than just kind. “Good thing there’s plenty of room on the couch for two.”
Johnny opened his eyes at that, surprised and maybe even overwhelmed by the sentiment. But Johnny had spent a night or two on the couch with Troy when Troy had been laid up with a cold and banished there by Mick. It seemed only right to return the favor now.
“Assuming you want me t–”
“Of course I do.” He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “I always want my good boy to keep me company.Sniff! Assuming you don’t mind my cold.”
“Assuming it is a cold?” He took hold of Johnny’s free hand and gave a tug, helping the man up to his feet, steadying him as they walked down the hallway to the living room.
Shaking his head, “I took a test as soon as I got home. Negative for COVID. I’ll take another one tomorrow to be sure, but this feels just like one of my colds. No trace of fever or chills. I can still taste and smell. It’s just the sore throat, coughing, and sneezing.” He rubbed at his forehead again. “And this pounding headache.”
“I might be able to help a little with that,” he said, channeling his inner Marcus and David. As Johnny settled onto the living room couch, pulling a quilt around himself and piling cushions up so he could recline in a mostly upright position, Troy stripped his clothes off. When he was down to just his pants like Johnny, he joined his lover on the couch.
Even with Johnny ill with cold, there was no question about who was the big spoon and who was the little spoon in their relationship. Troy curled into Johnny’s body, letting the taller man wrap an arm around him. But then Troy reached up to Johnny’s forehead. He pressed his thumb against one temple and his forefinger against the other. A firm massage made Johnny sigh and cough and clear his throat again. “You okay?”
“Mmph.” The sound was more affirmative than ambiguous, and Johnny closed his eyes to savor the touch. A moment later, he shook as deep coughs seized him. Troy snuggled in close to provide stability then resumed rubbing as soon as Johnny’s body relaxed again. “Dios mío. Feels wonderful.” Johnny spoke lightly, sparingly, as if to conserve his voice.
This was neither the date night Trou had envisioned nor hoped for. But he still felt a surprising sense of satisfaction in being able to be of service. It probably wasn’t a care-giving kink like David had. And when Johnny signaled to him to pause because a sneeze or two were imminent, there was no rush of anticipation and thrill the way Lucas had described his sneeze kink. But there was still a heady sort of pleasure in providing comfort, in recognizing he was helping, in knowing he was a good boy.
His attention was appreciated, even when it needed to be paused for a moment. “heh-h-Troy?” Johnny tapped a couple fingers urgently on Troy’s back. And Troy obediently moved the tissue box from the coffee table to the couch beside them. Johnny helped himself to a whole handful. “hehschfff! Heptchffffffff! hihshfffff!” This time, after sneezing, he blew his nose a couple times, readjusting the tissues after each blow and finishing off with a wipe. Johnny had just lowered his hand to drop the tissues over the side of the couch when he snapped them back up into place again as another sneeze caught him by surprise. “HEHtchhoo!”
“Bless,” Troy murmured, letting a kiss to Johnny’s clavicle accompany the soft sentiment. Johnny’s fingers stroked his back in response. The tissue box started to slip off the couch, but Troy caught it and placed it back on the coffee table again.
It wasn’t long before Johnny began to yawn. And as his yawns were easier to catch than his cold, Troy found himself joining in. They both fought off sleep for a little while, neither wanting to be the first to give in and nod off.
“S’been a long day.” Troy’s words vibrated soothingly against Johnny’s throat. “A long week, really.”
“Mmm.” Johnny coughed and struggled to keep his eyes open. But the winter sun had set, the glow fading from the living room curtains. They were so cozy on the couch, warmed by each other’s body heat and the thick quilt Johnny had taken from the closet. Staying awake was a battle they both easily lost.
*
Not long into his nap, Troy’s stomach woke him to remind him about dinner. He lifted his head to see Johnny passed out, sleeping deeply with his mouth open and his nose blocked just enough from congestion to cause him to snore. It was nothing like the deep, rumbling snores Mick treated them to every night, though. They were lighter, higher in pitch, and radiated contentment.
Careful not to wake his lover, Troy extricated himself from the coziness and gathered up his clothes that lay in small puddles around the living room couch. As he made his way to the bedroom laundry hamper, he pulled his mobile from the pocket of his jeans and made a quick call.
It rang once. Twice. Three times. Mick answered on the fourth ring, just before it went to voicemail. “Hey, what’re you doin’ callin’ me on yer date night?” There wasn’t a hint of jealousy in Mick’s voice, only confusion.
“Hi, luv. So sorry to bother you at work, but Johnny’s got a winter lurgy.”
“Aw, fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Did he test?”
“It was negative. None of the gym staff have COVID either, as far as I know.” Troy sat down on the edge of their bed, his fingers skimming the duvet in absentminded strokes as he talked.
“Thank God for small favors.”
“Yeah, but he’s still poorly. And before you say anything, I’ve already set him up on the couch.”
“Good man.”
Troy’s stomach gave another rumble. “I was wondering if you’d recommend something I could order for dinner.”
“Leave it to me.”
“No, Mick, you’re busy.”
“Never too busy for Johnny. Besides, we just finished the prep and we haven’t been slammed yet by the dinner rush. I’ll whip something up and send someone over with it.”
“Cheers. You’re the best.”
“Oh, I’m aware. Love you.”
“Love you, too.” The words rolled out so easily but with so much heart.
Within an hour, the food had arrived. The door buzzer woke Johnny from sleep, but he remained on the couch as a combination of coughing and grogginess stuck with him.
“Hungry at all?” Troy asked, carrying the bag to the small, circular table that stood in a nebulous area of their floor plan, between their kitchen and the living room.
Johnny cleared his throat and shook his head. “Not really.” Then he paused, watching as Troy got utensils, plates, and glasses from the cupboard. “What’d you order?”
Troy took that curiosity to be a good sign. “Not really sure. Mick sent something. It’ll be a surprise to us both.” He pulled a container out of the brown paper bag. It had his name scrawled in sharpie on the cardboard, and a quick look inside showed what was most likely “Shepherd’s pie for me, I think. And for you…” He lifted the second container out. Considerably heavier, it came with scents of spices Troy could not identify, but the lid had been labeled with Johnny’s name.
By this time, Johnny’s curiosity had grown. He got up from the couch and came over to investigate. But he was only halfway across the living room when Troy stopped him. “Oh no you don’t. You go back and get that blanket.”
“Troy… hihhh!”
“And the tissue box, too.”
“Hihptshhhhhh!” Johnny sneezed into his cupped hand, even as he tried to head it off by pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Agreeing that he really did need the tissues, he went back for both. And when he shuffled back across the living room toward the table that served as their dining area, he muttered, “Bossy bottom.”
Troy, who couldn’t count the number of times he’d called Johnny a service top with a similar tone, smiled to himself and pretended he hadn’t heard the comment. “Looks like Mick made you some sort of stew. It’s got… well, it’s got whole chicken breasts in it for one.”
“What?” Johnny’s shuffling morphed into quick walking as he hurried over. He took one look at the stew and exhaled with a grateful, “Oh, Mikito!” He snatched a spoon up from a place setting, dipped it in, and sampled the food. The taste made him close his eyes and tilt his head back. The expression of bliss on his face was not unlike the one he got after he came. And the stream of Spanish words that fell from his mouth were filled with amazement and reverence.
“What’re you on about?” asked Troy, dropping into a chair and dishing shepherd’s pie onto his plate. “What is that then?”
“Asopao de Pollo.” Johnny sat down as well and took another spoonful straight from the container, not bothering to transfer it to a dish or bowl. “My abuelita would make this every time someone came down sick. It’s like the Puerto Rican version of chicken soup.” He practically moaned as he swallowed another bite. “Garlic and veggies, rice, ham, tomato sauce, sofrito… how did he know to make this?”
“You never told him about your grandmother making it?”
Johnny thought about this as he helped himself to more. “I don’t think so. I guess he could have googled to find out it’s a popular dish. But where’d he even find adobo or sazon?” As he swallowed another spoonful, he did actually moan. “And how’d he make it so damn good? It’s perfect!”
Troy cleared the table of the take away bag and got the pitcher of filtered water from the fridge. It was times like this when he might have liked to kick back with a beer or two, but their house was dry. Of course, he could go out and hit a bar any time he liked, but he wasn’t going to leave Johnny when the man wasn’t feeling well. Drinking could wait until tomorrow night when he had a date across town planned.
It seemed that Johnny’s thoughts had strayed in the same general direction. Because as Troy poured water from the pitcher into their glasses, Johnny reached out and stroked Troy’s forearm. “Sorry for ruining our date night.”
“Not your fault, luv.” He sunk back into his seat and tucked in.
“But I had big plans. And you were expecting a…” He paused to cough a few times and rub at his nose. “A night of fun. And instead you got…” With a self-deprecating smile, he gestured to himself. His tall frame with a quilt wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. The crease on the side of his handsome face where it had been pushed into the couch cushion while sleeping. His runny nose that seemed to be even runnier when exposed to the spices in the whatever-it-was-called or maybe just the steam from it. “You know, if you want to go out and pick up–”
“No.” Troy reacted so quickly he surprised even himself. Then, borrowing Johnny’s words from earlier, he said, “I have absolutely everything I could want. And I’m right where I want to be.” He rose from his chair again to lean forward, over the table, and kiss his lover. The flavors and spices on his lips were nothing Troy recognized, but those lips themselves were a familiar comfort. He’d kissed hundreds of men, maybe even thousands; Troy didn’t keep score. But there was no one like Johnny. Johnny was belonging. Johnny was home. “The only other thing I could possibly want right now is for you to feel better.” Troy settled back down in his seat, pleased to see the smile on Johnny’s face.
Though it didn’t last long. Johnny rubbed the side of his hand at his nose a few times as he bought himself time to chew and swallow before diving back into the box of tissues he’d been reminded to bring over. Not wanting to stare at Johnny trying to hold off sneezes, Troy looked down at his dinner and pushed his fork around the mashed potatoes, meat, and veggies that remained. It was all starting to look less and less appetizing.
“hihh-Ihshhoo! Hihshhffffff!” Johnny made an apologetic sort of grunt and blew his nose. He sniffed and coughed and helped himself to water, wincing with each swallow. He was miserable, and Troy was having a hard time trying to eat and ignore it.
Troy took another few bites but realized he wasn’t all that hungry anymore. There was a stronger craving taking hold. So Troy slipped out of his seat, walked to Johnny’s side, and then sunk down onto his knees.
“Troy, you don’t have anything to prove to me.”
Troy laid his cheek on Johnny’s thigh and closed his eyes. “I know that. And you don’t need to do anything special. I just… I want this right now. Please?”
Johnny’s hand stroked his head, long fingers slipping through his hair, brushing his ear, tracing the curves of his neck. “You’ve got it. You’ve got me.”
Letting out a satisfied sigh, Troy let his body relax, go slack, get lost in the touch.
*
Neither the winter morning sun peeking through the curtains nor Troy’s hunger were to blame for rousing Troy from sleep the next morning. The culprit was immediately identified as the steaming mug of coffee Mick held as he stood by the couch.
“That had better be for me,” Troy said, wriggling and scooting and finally pushing himself up into a kneeling position on the furthest cushion from the ones Johnny was sprawled upon. Mick was already holding the mug out in offering, and Troy took a sip from it the moment it was in his hands. His gratitude for having coffee was surpassed only by his gratitude for coffee that was so dark and rich with only the smallest dash of sugar for balance. “This gives me life!”
Mick chuckled softly, the sound partly muffled by the KN95 mask he wore.
“Do I get some?” Troy’s careful maneuvering had apparently woken Johnny after all.
“Nope,” Mick disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two more mugs. One he held against his own sizable chest, the other he extended toward Johnny. “But you do get mint tea. It’s good for sore throats.”
“I’ve sniff definitely got one of… of th-those,” Johnny said, his voice rough and broken.
Troy pressed the box of tissues to Johnny’s chest and then intercepted the mug. “But, first, you get tissues.”
Johnny nodded as his half-lidded eyes rolled upward. He pulled tissues from the box and buried the lower half of his face into them. “Hitchhfffff! Ihhhshhfffff!”
“Bless you.” Mick beat Troy to it, eyebrows arching playfully at Troy who pretended for a moment that he was upset instead of what he really was: amused.
When the sneezes gave way to merely sniffles, Troy handed the tea over. Johnny held the mug in both hands and blew across the surface of the liquid before taking a tiny, cautious sip. He barely winced and immediately repeated the blowing and sipping process.
This wasn’t the lazy Saturday morning in bed with his lovers that Troy had been looking forward to all week, but he was surprised to realize it wasn’t half bad. All right, so Mick had a mask on, making it impossible for him to give one of his scratchy, nuzzly morning kisses. And Johnny was all sniffly with cold, probably ready to go right back to sleep again as soon as he finished his tea. But Troy was with his two favorite people in all the world, and he would take them any way he could get them.