12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Callum

Callum stood in front of the bathroom mirror, his reflection a stark reminder of the fire that had raged just hours before. He took in his filthy face. He'd had a quick wash back at the community hall, but soot and sweat smeared down one cheek, his hair sticking up at crazy angles. His legs wobbled, and he gripped the edge of the vanity as he tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his burned forearm. His muscles ached, each movement an effort, and a slight cough lingered in his throat.

Thank fuck I'm alive.

The medical personnel had given him the all-clear, and for that, he was incredibly grateful. A few aches and pains were nothing compared to what could have happened.

He blinked away the horror images that filled his mind and straightened, ignoring the twinge in his back. He slowly peeled off his shirt, wincing as it caught on the bandage wrapped around his injured arm. With a deep breath, he bent to remove his boots, his uncooperative fingers struggling with the stubborn laces. As he pulled on the last one, he lost his balance, sucking in a breath as he toppled into the wall with a loud thud.

"Shit!"

Moment later, Trent's voice came from the other side of the door. "Cal? You okay in there?"

Callum couldn't speak, lost in a wave of pain and nausea, as he slid onto his arse.

He must have groaned or made some kind of sound, enough to concern Trent. The door creaked open, and Trent appeared, his brown eyes full of worry. "Bloody hell!"

"I'm fine," he managed to force out as Trent hurried to his side. "Just lost my balance for a moment."

Trent shook his head. "I heard the crash and nearly had a heart attack. I shouldn't have left you alone."

"I can manage." He plastered on a smile. Trent had been through enough worry today and didn't need another dose of guilt.

"Well, you don't have to manage. I'm going to help, whether you like it or not," Trent said, as he dropped to his haunches. His tone was determined but his expression soft and concerned as he placed a palm on his shoulder.

Callum swallowed hard, unable to deny that he needed the help and, truth be told, he appreciated the support. Just having Trent in the same room seemed to calm his racing mind. He felt as if he could breathe again, the band of tightness around his chest loosening.

"All right. Thank you."

Trent smiled. "Let's start by getting you up off the floor, hey?"

He tucked an arm under Callum's shoulder and helped him to his feet. His legs wobbled, and he felt weak as a kitten, but Trent didn't say anything, just maneuvered him to the toilet and lowered him to the closed lid. He pivoted and turning the taps filled the tub, adding a squirt of some sort of bath foam and adjusting the water temperature.

It was as if Trent could read his mind and see how fragile he was. He didn't propose the shower, just set about doing what needed to be done and Callum was thankful he could sit in a bath rather than stand on his unsteady legs.

Soon Trent was on his knees in front of him, removing the stubborn boots and his socks, then helping him stand. He turned his back to allow Callum to drop his briefs and stood next to him as he moved gingerly towards the bath.

"Easy now." Trent's arm wrapped around his waist for support as he stepped into the tub, then stood by as he lowered himself into the bathwater, the action made more difficult with his injured arm.

Callum groaned as he leaned back into the bubbles, the warm soothing sensation enveloping his aching muscles.

"How's the temperature? Is it too hot?" Trent asked, looking down at him.

"It's perfect. Heaven."

"Keep your bandaged hand out of the water," Trent instructed softly, reaching for the shampoo.

Callum nodded. He didn't have the energy to argue that he could fend for himself, plus he had a feeling Trent would just ignore him anyway. He propped his injured arm along the edge of the bath, watching as Trent squeezed a dollop of shampoo onto his palm.

"Lean back," Trent said, waiting for him to comply before gently pouring water on his head and massaging the lather into his hair, keeping the suds from his face.

The tender motions were both soothing and electrifying, sending shivers down Callum's spine. The intimacy of the moment was almost overwhelming, and yet, he couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

As Trent continued to wash his hair, he asked, "How's your arm feeling?"

There was no point in lying. "It hurts," Callum admitted. "The painkillers are wearing off."

"Try not to let it get wet, and that way we won't have to re-do the dressings until tomorrow," Trent said. "And I'll get you some more painkillers when you're out of the bath and safely in bed."

Callum nodded and closed his eyes. It was easy to allow Trent to take care of him and make the decisions. He felt safe, cocooned in the warm water with the citrusy scent of the bubbles washing away the stench of the smoke.

"There you go. All done," Trent said as he rinsed away the soapy suds, careful not to get any in Callum's eyes.

"Thanks," Callum murmured. He didn't have the energy to say anything else. And when Trent picked up a washcloth and began gently rubbing his shoulders, every touch infused with care and tenderness, he nearly melted. He couldn't hold back a moan as Trent worked the washcloth in slow, deliberate circles along his shoulders and chest. The soothing motion eased the tension in his muscles, but it also began to stir something else within him—the desire that had been simmering for far too long. He let out a shaky breath, trying to focus on the relief flooding his tired muscles rather than the need building inside him. But with every tender touch, the lines between pain and pleasure blurred further, making it increasingly difficult to ignore the attraction he felt towards Trent. God, what was wrong with him? Getting a hard-on in the bath when all Trent was trying to do was take care of him.

"Umm… I think maybe that's enough," Callum said, sitting up and causing the water to swish violently in the tub.

Trent reared back to avoid the splash. "Okay." His voice was wary. "Let me rinse the last of the suds."

As soon as Trent finished and stood, Callum rose awkwardly to his feet, grabbing the washcloth and holding it in front of him. He felt a sudden rush of vulnerability when Trent's eyes flickered down to his arousal. The heat in his cheeks intensified, and he struggled to maintain eye contact, instead reaching for the towel rail.

"Hey," Trent said softly, as he passed over a towel. "Don't worry about it, all right? It's just a natural response to being touched, especially after everything you've been through today. Adrenaline can do that too."

"Yeah, sure," Callum said, grabbing on to the excuse Trent offered and wrapping the towel around his waist.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about. Now, let's get you dried off and into some fresh clothes." He grabbed another towel and began patting Callum's back dry, working quickly and efficiently, not lingering too long on any one area, very unlike the languid movements in the bath. Callum didn't know whether to be regretful or thankful. As Trent's hands moved purposely over his body, he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to feel those hands exploring him in a different context. The longing inside him grew stronger, and he struggled to keep his thoughts focused on anything other than the man standing so close to him.

"Thanks." He tried to sound casual, but the words came out choked and strained.

"Anytime," Trent replied, as he hung up the towel and left the bathroom.

The bedroom was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows across the floor as Callum sat on the edge of the bed clutching his sore arm. His chest tightened as he watched Trent pull some clothes from the dresser. The scent of smoke lingered in the air and he imagined it would for some time to come, smoke infiltrating the house and seeping into the nooks and crannies. It served as a reminder of the fire and how close it was. The arousal he'd felt was now gone, replaced by a nagging headache.

He cleared his throat against the tickle in his chest, resulting in a barking cough.

"Hey, are you sure that cough's nothing to worry about?" Trent asked.

He nodded. "They weren't worried, as I was only in the smoke for a short time and covered my face. So long as the cough doesn't last long and I don't have trouble breathing, I'll be fine."

Trent passed him a T-shirt. "Okay. Well, any problems, you'll let me know, right?"

"Sure." Callum pulled the tee over his head. The shirt was tight, but the fabric was soft with wear and smelled faintly of Trent. He liked it.

"Trent?"

"Mmm?" Trent passed him a pair of boxers.

Callum hesitated, his heart pounding. "It probably sounds stupid, but I don't want to be alone tonight. Can you stay with me?"

"Of course," Trent replied, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back."

Callum relaxed at his quick reply and the lack of hesitation. He didn't want to sleep by himself, not after all the events of the day.

Trent got something from the dresser and left the room, leaving him to listen to the faint sounds of Mushroom being fed and doors being locked. As he waited, Callum pulled on the boxers. Like the T-shirt, they were too small, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He looked around the room. From the glass of water and paperback on one bedside table, it was clear where Trent slept, so he moved to the other side and slipped under the covers.

He lay in the bed, anticipation swirling in his stomach as he listened to Trent's movements through the house. The small sounds were reassuring—he wasn't alone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to water running until finally the floorboards creaked and Trent appeared in the dim light.

"All set," he announced quietly, padding across the room to the bed.

He'd changed into boxers and T-shirt, similar to those Callum was wearing. He passed over a glass of water and held out a couple of pills. "Ibuprofen. I hope they're okay."

Callum took the painkillers and threw them back as Trent climbed in beside him. They lay side by side, staring at the dark ceiling. It was comforting just knowing Trent was there, a warm and solid presence.

"Thanks for staying," he whispered.

"Anytime, Cal," Trent said quietly. "Just go to sleep and I'll be here when you wake up."

Callum smiled into the darkness. He liked the sound of that.