“I’m not riding you for a while, dude,” Forest reminded him. “Doctor said to rest. Your lungs took a beating. I’m surprised they let you go.”
“Just a bit banged up. Miki did more damage to me than anything else.” Con raised his plaster-wrapped forearm. “Bastard’s like a goddamn ferret stuck in your pants. Watch your shit around him. Especially now you’re their drummer.”
“Yeah, I am. Aren’t I? That is so cool. I can’t—even. No words.” Forest beamed, a crinkle of a smile taking over his face. Tsking humbly, he gripped Connor’s chin and moved his face to the side. “Look up.”
“You’re going to get more in my eyes this time, right?” Con glanced at him from under his lashes. “The inside of my ear is still soaking wet.”
“If you weren’t such a dick about getting stuff close to your eyes, you could do it yourself,” Forest reminded him. “Now stay still. Or better yet, talk to me while I do this. What did Sionn just say about Damie when you talked to him?”
“Damie’s doing okay. Resting. They’re sending him home tomorrow. Miki’s growling at people, but I think that just means he’s okay too. Kane’s going to see if he can get Miki to go home in a bit.” The first drop hit, and it felt like Forest shoved an ice shard down into his eye. Biting his lip to avoid yelping, Connor grabbed at his lover’s ass. “Shite, that’s cold.”
“Four on each side.” Forest moved the towel over and cupped Connor’s cheek. “Hold on. Gotta do the other three.”
He could stand the three, Connor told himself. He’d handled worse, but the second drop struck his eye and chilled him down to his spine. His ass clenched in response, and the twitch of his hips nearly unseated Forest.
“Really?” The man looked down at him, fingers firmly holding Connor’s jaw. “You’re being a baby. Damie got shot. You and Miki just have to get eye drops, and he’s probably doing them himself.”
“That’s because he’s a fucking ferret. I’m telling you, boy’s inhuman.” Connor settled down again, lightly resting his hands on Forest’s thighs. “Hope Kane never pisses him off. Bastard’ll gut him as soon as look at him.”
“Nah, Miki’s cool,” Forest said as he quickly let another two drops go into Con’s right eye.
“Shit, warn a man!” Con hissed, blinking furiously.
“Yeah, incoming.”
He saw Forest shrug; then the towel covered Con’s eye.
“Keep it closed. You’re supposed to let the drops sit. You’re one of those guys who’s a big baby when he’s got a cold, aren’t you?”
Connor wasn’t going to humble himself to answer the question. Sniffing, he tasted the drops in the back of his throat and made a face. “God that’s like piss down my mouth.”
“I don’t even want to know who you’ve let pee into your mouth, ’cause it ain’t going to be me.”
Connor kept one eye—the unmolested eye—open and regarded his lover. Forest looked… settled. Maybe even happy. There was a crease of worry between the man’s large brown eyes, but that was for Miki and Damien. He’d reminded Forest several times that the shot to the guitarist’s calf hadn’t been serious, and other than an overnight stay in the hospital and a keen watch for infection, he’d be as good as new. Miki’d been given the same drops and treatment as Connor. A flush of their systems and a few beeping machines verified their health.
And he thanked God for that because he had enough on his hands as it was—seeing as they were currently curved over Forest’s ass.
“You know, once you get these drops in, I might be persuaded into being coddled a bit,” Connor said gruffly. “You know, to soothe my self-esteem. I went into a smoking building for you.”
“And I’m grateful for that,” Forest replied solemnly, the worry in his face lightening a little. “Do you need coddling? What’s involved in that? Foot massages? Hot towels after you shave?”
“I’ll write you a list.” Connor tangled his fingers into Forest’s hair and pulled him down for a kiss. Cupping his cast to the small of Forest’s back, he craned up and dipped his tongue past Forest’s lips, tasting the soft heat he found there.
Forest made a husky mewling noise in his throat, and Connor was more than willing to forgo the drops. In fact, if he could reach the table next to the couch, he’d pull out the bottle of lube he’d tucked in there and show Forest point by point everything that should be on a coddling list, including a few he had in mind to do to Forest if the man ever felt like he needed it. He opened his mouth, about to suggest just that, when the house suddenly went silent.
Then they were plunged into a deep, heavy darkness.
Chapter 19
Sour mash and cheap wine
Smokestack lightning, bathtub gin
Took me for a slow ride
Damn woman ’most done me in
Popping corks in long black limos
Champagne giggles and lots of skin
Breaking hearts more than a million times
Just like my own has been
—Riding Low