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"No you didn't." Marcus caressed Thomas's abdomen, lips curving as he squirmed when he hit a ticklish spot. "You know Julie has wanted to be deeply, totally in love with the man of her dreams all her life. Even if she'd convinced herself she'd given up on that, it happens when it's going to happen, and you don't get a choice. It's like planning to adopt a Yorkshire Terrier and coming home with a St. Bernard. Love chooses you, and Julie's natural state is to love or be loved. And she's got a moderate sub side, so..."
"She has no choice but to adopt Des and let him sleep on her bed."
"Wasn't that the way it worked for us, pet? I saw this scruffy-looking, starved artist and I had to bring him home."
"If I remember, you did let me sleep in your bed, from that very first night."
"Well, you begged, with those soulful brown eyes."
"Softy. Oh, fuck, I hear my mother's shoes. Get off the bed so I can pull my gown down."
To Marcus's amusement, they scrambled like a couple of guilty teenagers putting things to right. He nearly vaulted back to his position against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. A quick glance said the erection he was nursing had subsided enough to miss notice, though the sparkle in Thomas's eye, the grin on his face, could likely spur it back to life in no time.
Yeah, that was the effect his sub had on every part of him. Even as he wished the cost wasn't all of them being here in the hospital, Marcus was glad Julie had finally found that. He'd given himself his own answer to why they were here. Whatever was needed, you did it, because love was worth it in a way nothing else in life could ever be.
Julie held Des's hand as the male nurse gave them a heads up. "You're all set, Mr. Hayes. We'll be back to take you to surgery in a few minutes." He was a young man, slim with blond hair and friendly blue eyes. Though Julie was concerned by his youth, he seemed to know what he was doing as he prepped her Master for surgery. She was being silly, she knew she was, but she expected they were used to that. Thank goodness she had Betty with her to keep her from being an idiot. Julie was confident Betty would step in if any care Des received was anything less than it should be.
"When he's in post-op, they'll call our desk and let us know it's time for you two to meet with the surgeon," the nurse told Betty.
Betty had his healthcare power-of-attorney, but Des had already updated his privacy paperwork so Julie could be in on everything discussed today. She was pleased with that further evidence he was trying not to shut her out of anything, though it didn't really help alleviate any worries about how today would go.
"Thanks, Sal." Betty rose. "I'm going to go to the nurses' desk, give you two a couple minutes. I'll be back." She winked at Julie and touched Des's arm. "You've got nothing to worry about. This is the easy part."
She followed Sal out the door, comfortably chatting with him about the current gossip on the floor, since Betty was a regular visitor to this part of the hospital.
Julie knew she was right about this being the "easy" part, though that drew her mind to what could happen in the aftermath. She'd had a crash course in everything transplant-related these past several weeks, and anything else she could learn about managing diabetes. She did it on her own time, not wanting Des to think that she thought she was going to have to be his fulltime caregiver. But to her way of thinking, it was like him being there when Pablo's scaffolding had failed. He'd known how to help and what to do when it mattered.
Kidney transplant surgery was now fairly straightforward. Thomas's recovery should be a hundred percent if there were no complications, and complications for a healthy male donor were rare. Regardless, Marcus would watch him like a hawk during the recuperation period and make sure he followed every rule to the letter.
Des's challenge would be his body accepting the kidney. He'd be put on drugs to try and prevent rejection, drugs that would lower his immune system significantly, and that he'd be on for the rest of his life. His diet, already fairly structured, would become even more regimented. If his system rejected the kidney, he would go back on dialysis and either have to do that permanently or try again with a different kidney. Though if his body rejected one that was a close genetic match, it wasn't likely to accept another.
Yes, there were possible bad outcomes. But through the many things Julie had learned, the details she'd internalized, she held onto one message with both hands, the one Betty had hammered into her. This is a good step, the right step. The best chance he has to keep living anything resembling a normal life.
She ran an appraising eye over him. He was quiet, deep in his head somewhere, understandably, but the pressure of his hand said he was also with her. His hair was tied back for when it would need to be scooped up and tucked into the paper hat he'd have to don for surgery. They'd also put similar boots on his feet. He'd made the nurse smile when he'd asked for both of those things to happen at the last possible moment.
"Don't want Julie to see me like that. She'd be taking pictures and using them to blackmail me."
"That gown is looking good on you," Julie said now.
Des glanced down. She'd only brought it out a few minutes ago, when the nurse had said it was time for him to change, so he hadn't had time to tell her what he thought of it. The nurse had responded to it with "that rocks", causing Julie and Betty to exchange an amused look. It also made Julie wonder if Sal was in the BDSM lifestyle.
The surgical gown was black, with tan-colored rope knots scattered among the silhouettes of voluptuous females tied in various poses. "Shibari surgery wear," Des commented. "I can't believe you found this."
"It wasn't me. Billie and Pablo helped find the cloth, and I sewed it. I've worked as dresser plenty of times, enough to do basic seamstress work. Fortunately, a smock isn't very form fitting."
He smoothed the fabric. "It's pretty damn awesome, Julie," he said in a low voice. "I'm going to tell them they better not mess it up or lose it when they strip me like a newborn up there."
It gratified her to see how touched he was. He didn't say 'get blood on it,' though she heard the slight hesitation as he averted that direction. Her hand involuntarily tightened on his. She wanted to climb up on the bed and hold him so tightly he'd need oxygen, but he'd cared for her, held and reassured her more than once these past several weeks. Today was her turn to be the sturdy brick wall.
"They better not. I won't hesitate to take a megalomaniac surgeon down a peg or two because he couldn't be bothered to fold up a smock and put it on a shelf where it would be safe."
"I'd pay good money to see that." He paused. "You said Pablo helped?"
"Yeah. I would have told you about him coming by the theater earlier, but the gown was a surprise and I didn't want to tip my hand. Billie suggested the vendor and placed the order, then had Pablo pick it up and bring it to me, since Billie's on his circuit up in Virginia. If you'd come by while Pablo was there, I was going to throw you off the scent by telling you he's been so wracked with guilt about the nearly-killing-me thing he wanted to give me a backrub followed by intense oral sex."
"That's a very thorough apology. I'll keep that in mind next time I piss
you off."
