Namid

Namid

The ring from a video call startles me awake. I can't believe that I fell asleep on the phone with Jayce while Ken was in surgery; what kind of useless asshole does that? I fumble my phone as I try to answer, barely managing to stab at the green button before the ringing stops. Ken's face pops up, and I burst into tears before I can stop myself.

"Hey. I'm okay, kiddo. Everything is just fine."

I can only nod while I fight to pull myself together, and Ken's face quickly disappears, only to be replaced by Jayce's.

"Hey there."

I can't help the thankful half laugh, half sob that tears its way out of my throat.

"Thank you, Jayce. Thank you so much for everything. I can't begin to thank you enough."

He shakes his head on the tiny screen. "It's nothing. I promise it's been a pleasure getting to know Ken a bit. "

It's the first time he hasn't called him Mr. Johnson.

"I'm going to hand you over and step out to get some coffee so you guys can chat, okay?"

I nod in thanks, and the image on the other end shuffles. I stare at the hospital ceiling for a few moments before Ken appears once more.

"You promise you're really okay?"

Ken laughs. "I'm fine. It's just a broken arm. I'll be home in a couple of days, and then aside from having to learn how to button a shirt one handed for a few weeks, I'll be good as new before we know it."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you. You know that I wanted to, but I just…"

"I know, son. I know, and it's fine."

All I can manage is a nod. I'm barely holding my useless self together.

"Speaking of…" Ken trails off in an odd tone of voice, and I raise an eyebrow in question.

"Jayce tells me you've told him about your feelings stuff. That's a big step. Anything else I should know about?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

I flush with embarrassment as I try to convince Ken that I don't have feelings for Jayce.

"Ken! God! No. Jayce is my friend. It's just…it's nice to have a friend, ya know. I think I can trust him."

Ken's smile is soft and kind and loving. "I think you can too. He seems like a good man, and I'm so glad you boys have each other to lean on now. "

Ken and I talk for a few more minutes before Jayce reappears at his side, and Ken transfers the phone back with a yawn.

"You should go home Jayce." Ken's voice is distant with the phone now in Jayce's hand. "You both need to get some rest. You boys have had a long day too, and it's getting late. I'm sure they'll be in here shortly to drug me into a coma for the night."

I hadn't realized how much time has passed since Jayce first showed up to help us this morning, but it's nearly midnight.

"Ya, of course. I'll see you soon?" I know my voice sounds unsure.

"Couple of days, kiddo, then you'll have more of helping me around the house than you can handle. Love ya."

"Love you too, Ken."

I can't feel emotions over the phone, but when Jayce pops back onto the screen to hang up, the emotion on his face looks like…longing.

Jayce's house is only ten minutes from the hospital, and I find myself pacing again as I wait for him to get home. He's been so kind to sacrifice his time and sit at the hospital all day, and it was so generous of him to let me wait here so that I could be close to Ken if there were an emergency serious enough that I had to pull myself together enough to brave the hospital, but he's never invited me over before. We don't have that kind of friendship. Now that he's had time to think through it, what if he doesn't like that I'm here ?

Jayce had said that he was going to get a cup of coffee even though he rarely drinks coffee, and it was ten thirty at night when he'd stepped out of Ken's room. I wonder if he really got coffee or if that was just an excuse to give us privacy. Shit. I wonder if he even ate today. I don't know if he'll like me snooping through his kitchen, but making sure he eats tonight seems like the least I can do before he takes me home. By the time the door squeaks open, I have some sauce heating, some pasta boiling on the stove, and some vegetables cut up and ready to cook.

I step out of the kitchen and into the front room like I've been caught going through his underwear drawer.

"Hey." He looks startled by my sudden appearance, and I nervously run my hand through my hair.

"Hey. You okay?" He doesn't feel upset with me, just concerned.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. You?"

Relief spreads through the room.

Oh. He's not concerned that I'm here; he's concerned that I might not be okay. After everything that's happened today, after everything I told him, he's concerned for me. God. Could he be any more perfect?

His gentle smile abruptly disappears, only to be replaced by confusion. "Are you cooking something?"

I shuffle my feet nervously. "Yeah. I didn't know if you ate at the hospital, and it's late. I didn't want you to go to bed hungry. It's just pasta. If you give me five more minutes, I can drain it for you and then it will be ready when you get back."

"Back?"

"From taking me home."

His head tilts slightly. "Did you eat tonight?"

"Not yet, but I have food at home. I don't want to intrude or anything."

Small lines appear beside his beautiful green eyes as he smiles and steps closer. "Namid. I'm not kicking you out. Jesus." He laughs softly. "Have dinner with me. If you want me to take you home right after, I'd be happy to, but I have a guest room. You're welcome to spend the night here so that you can be closer to Ken if you'd like."

"Seriously?" My voice is small and cracked, my throat sore from stress and worry and tears, and my own emotions threaten to overwhelm me.

"Of course." His voice is strength and laughter and peace as he closes the distance between us and wraps me in his arms.

I melt against his body, burying my face in his shoulder and taking what feels like my first deep breath since the cabinet slipped from our grip this afternoon. He holds me tightly, enveloping me in his warmth for a long moment before I find the strength to force myself to step back and clear my throat. If I allow myself even one more moment in his arms, I'll do something stupid enough to ruin our friendship. I never want to let him go.

I run my fingers through my hair as I step back .

"I wasn't really sure what you liked or anything. I mean, I know you like bear claws, but I didn't have the time to burn your kitchen down trying to make those at midnight."

Jayce's soul lightens a bit more, and his deep chuckle runs along my spine, leaving me trembling as goosebumps rise across my skin. I turn on my heel and quickly make my way back to the kitchen in the hope he doesn't notice.

A mumbled, "It's just pasta with some vegetables," is all I can come up with as I dump the noodles into the strainer I have waiting in the sink, put an inch of water back in the pot, and slide the veggies off the cutting board into the water to steam.

"It's perfect, thank you."

He moves through the kitchen behind me as I face the stove, idly stirring the vegetables around even though they don't need any attention. I can't bring myself to face him; it's too intimate, being here in his small kitchen, and I'm too emotionally on edge to trust myself not to do something I'll regret - like blurt out that I'm in love with him. Jayce pulls out bowls and fills glasses with water from the sink. I hear him pop the caps off two beer bottles, and I jump a bit as he reaches over my shoulder to dangle one of them in front of me.

"Thanks." I hope he can't hear the way my voice seems to quiver over the fact that he's standing so close behind me that I can feel the warmth of his body along my back.

By the time he's loaded the bowls with noodles and sauce, the veggies are done, and I spoon them into the bowls he holds out for me before we settle silently at the table together.

I want this. I want this always. I want this so much.

We're quiet as we eat, both exhausted and lost in our own thoughts. It's not like silence is new for us; we spend plenty of time together without feeling the need to fill the space between us with unnecessary words. The silence isn't awkward - it's comfortable and companionable, and I'm grateful to be with Jayce instead of alone in my cabin tonight. He's tired and concerned, but he's not scared or worried, and it makes me feel like everything just might be okay.

"I'll get you some pajamas, and then you're welcome to shower first." His voice is steady as we stand together at the sink cleaning the few dishes we've dirtied.

Shower. Here . I'm going to shower in Jayce's house? I glance over, a bit startled at the suggestion, somehow only now taking notice of the streaks of grime and dust that cling to his skin from hours in the dirty basement. I always notice everything about him, and it's a testament to my frazzled emotional state that his disheveled appearance has escaped me until now.

I can't help laughing and pushing my hair back self-consciously.

"Right. No basement dirt in your bed."

Panic.

"Not your bed. Your guest bed. I mean, you'll probably shower too so that there isn't any in your bed either, but…" I groan and close my eyes.

His laugh warms my soul, and I want to step close and curl up in his arms again.

"Come on. I'll show you the bedroom and bathroom."

I quietly follow him down the short hall. Clearly, I can't be trusted to speak without making a fool out of myself, so silence it is before I say something even more incriminating.

He opens the first door we encounter and steps inside, squatting down to rummage under the counter.

"Bathroom. Nothing fancy, but everything works. Here." He holds out a wrapped toothbrush as he stands.

"Thank you."

I want to make a joke about the fact that he has extra guest toothbrushes lying in wait for overnight guests, but that would definitely be a bad idea, and in truth, I don't really want to think about anyone else that would need a new toothbrush spending the night here.

He pauses for a moment at the next door, and I'm almost knocked to my knees by the weight of the grief that rushes through him. He hasn't felt sorrow this intense for months.

"You okay?" I let my hand reach out to rest on his arm.

He shakes his head abruptly, almost as if he's pulling himself out of a trance, and he turns to face me.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. It's just…"

He cocks his head to the side, and his eyes move to my hand, still resting on his forearm. I pull it away quickly .

"Could you…I mean…did you feel that from me?" His eyes narrow.

I blush and shift my gaze to the floor. I can't help it. Ken is the only person who's ever been aware of the way I can pick up their emotions before, and I'm not sure how to respond.

"Yeah. You were upset. You felt like you did when we first met. It wasn't quite as intense, but it was the same heartache."

He stands unmoving at my side until I force myself to raise my eyes and meet his gaze.

"That's amazing, Namid."

His voice is gentle and soft, and he searches my face as if he really does believe me. He believes me, and he's not scared of me. I force an embarrassed half smile as he continues.

"Jordyn was the last one to use this room, that's all. I don't usually have guests."

Fuck. I probably shouldn't take Jordyn's room.

"I can take the couch; it wouldn't be a bother."

"No. It's okay. It's just…it's hard, ya know? But he'd want you to use it. I want you to use it."

I don't know what to say. I can only nod as he continues.

"I'll go get you some pajamas, and then I'll change the sheets while you shower."

"I really would be fine on the co…"

When his brow furrows, warning me that he's not going to lose this argument no matter how many times I offer to take the couch, all I can do is smile at the rush of affection that flows through me.

"Thank you, Jayce."

A smile that seems almost tender flits across his lips before he turns and heads further down the hall.

Standing under the hot water, I'm too exhausted to fixate on the fact that I'm naked in Jayce's home, but when I step out and find pajamas on the counter and realize that he'd popped in to set them there while I showered, it takes a few deep breaths before I can pull myself together enough to get dressed and towel off my hair.

As I curl up in freshly laundered sheets, wearing a soft old T-shirt that smells like Jayce, I can feel him from the next room. He's exhausted and concerned, but there is relief there too. I feel the same way. I feel more than he does though. As I lie in the dark, separated from Jayce by only two thin wooden doors and a short walk down a quiet hallway, I'm filled with longing. I'd give just about anything to be able to slip into his arms and fall asleep against his chest.