“Hand was bothering him. As soon as we got the new computers up and running, Becca and I ganged up on him and made him go take a break,” Marz said. “Guy’s only two weeks out from an amputation. He needed some downtime.”
“Oh. Damn. I hope he’s okay,” Jeremy said, concern crawling into his gut. He’d spent many hours at Charlie’s bedside in the days after his rescue. The amputation site had been infected and Charlie had very quickly spiked a high fever that made them realize he needed further treatment. It had been serious, and not a little scary, for a few days there.
“He took some meds so I’m sure he will be. But I bet he’d enjoy some company,” Marz said, grinning.
Was Jeremy imagining it, or was that smile just a little more suggestive than normal? Jeremy arched a brow at him, and Marz laughed. Shaking his head and chuckling, Jeremy said, “It’s a good thing I am supremely great company, then.” He turned to go.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Marz said, his tone dripping with innuendo.
Jeremy smirked over his shoulder. “Kinda leaves the playing field wide open, doesn’t it?”
Marz laughed and nodded.
While it was always great to have a friend’s support, Jeremy didn’t actually care what anyone thought about who he saw. He’d put up with some punk--ass bullshit from -people before when he’d gone out with men. It was sorta par for the course. You were going along, having a great time and minding your own business, when someone’s bigotry just up and smacked you in the face. Like the time, back when he still worked for someone else’s shop, when a customer refused to let Jeremy do his ink because he’d seen him out with another man. That shit didn’t just sting, it fucked with his livelihood. Luckily, his employer and mentor, Aleck—-the guy who’d made him see that his background in art could find an outlet in tattooing—-didn’t stand for that bullshit for one minute, and he’d asked the asshole to leave.
Not that Jeremy expected anything like that from these guys. Not when Nick had always been so cool with whoever Jeremy chose to be with. And not when the whole team had been so accepting of Charlie—-hell, they’d risked their lives to save him—-knowing he was gay and that Charlie and his father, who was also the team’s commander, had had a falling out over it. Not one of them had blinked an eye. In fact, the only murmurings Jeremy had heard were ones of disappointment in the colonel.
Still, cart before horse much?
Yeah, probably. But there was one way to fix that, wasn’t there?
Back in his apartment, Jeremy walked through the big open space that made up the combination kitchen and living room. With its exposed brick walls, unfinished industrial ceiling, and big leather couches, it was his favorite room in the whole place. Rehabbing an abandoned factory into a business and a kick--ass loft apartment—-so far—-was something he was hugely proud of. Whether it was drawing or painting or renovating or building something from scratch, Jeremy had always loved working with his hands, and buying this building had pressed every one of those buttons.
Usually, the big windows that stretched to the ceiling meant it was also full of light, but they’d hung blackout curtains to mask their presence in the building from outside eyes. Jeremy couldn’t imagine—-or, at least, didn’t want to imagine—-what might’ve happened during the attack if they hadn’t taken the precaution of making it look like the other half of the building was inhabited and the inhabited half was abandoned and empty.
Passing the big kitchen island, Jeremy crossed into the hallway that led to all the bedrooms. His pulse kicked up at the thought of seeing Charlie, touching him, kissing him. Jer had nearly died yesterday, after all, so it was about damn time.
He paused in front of Charlie’s bedroom door, took a deep breath, and knocked.
The door opened, the dim glow of a bedside lamp the only light in the room. “Hey,” Charlie said. He dropped his gaze and stepped backward, as if he was inviting Jeremy in but uncomfortable doing it.
Jeremy wasn’t having that. Not for one more second. Two steps had Charlie in his arms, their bodies crashing together, and Jeremy’s mouth firmly, possessively, and unreservedly claiming Charlie’s.
Burying his hands in the long strands of Charlie’s soft hair, Jeremy devoured Charlie’s lips and nearly groaned when he opened his mouth, allowing Jeremy to deepen the kiss. Charlie tasted like sweet, innocent temptation, and Jeremy wanted to consume every last bite. He stroked and sucked at Charlie’s tongue, tightened his hands in his hair, and tugged their bodies flush until all Jeremy could feel, taste, and smell was Charlie.