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NINETEEN
The next morningafter a late breakfast, Yunho’s boat arrived, carrying the doctor and boxes of other supplies. Two staff Harry hadn’t seen before unloaded the boxes. It was mostly fresh food supplies that were hauled straight through to the kitchen and some other bags were left on the dining table.
The doctor was a middle-aged woman who looked over Asher’s injuries, gently touching around his swollen eye sockets and along his jaw.
She didn’t think anything was broken.
His ribs were a different story. She grimaced at the bruising but could only assume, without X-rays, that nothing was splintered and puncturing anything it shouldn’t. His lungs were clear, his kidneys and liver were functioning adequately, no trouble passing urine. And, she said without a hint of humour, given this was day six and he hadn’t died yet, she could only assume he’d be okay.
His pupils were dilating normally, which was a good sign, though he didn’t appreciate the penlight shined in his eyes.
“His speech was slow and slurred on day one,” Harry said. “Not that he was awake much. But he’s gotten better every day. He never had a temperature, no fever, no blood in his urine. He never vomited, never had a seizure.” Harry looked at Asher proudly. “He’s getting back to his smartass self too, which is a good sign, right?”
Asher rolled his eyes.
“Those are good signs,” she replied.
But she ran all the tests she could without him having to go to a hospital. Blood pressure, a urine test with the coloured strips to check for abnormalities, and she listened to his heart and his lungs. She also did some basic neuro assessment on his motor and sensory skills, hearing and speech, vision, coordination, and balance. She made him squeeze her hands and count backwards from ten.
Which he did in five languages until she told him he could stop.
In the end, she gave him a very bruised and sore clean bill of health. She left some more pain meds and told him to rest and recover for another four weeks.
“Four weeks?” Asher cried. “What the hell am I going to do for four weeks?”
She looked him square in the face and deadpanned. “Rest. And recover. It’s in the title.”
Harry snorted out a laugh and Asher stared at him. “Yunho,” he called out. “Be a dear and go grab me my duffle bag. Or more specifically, my friend MAC.”
Harry laughed again. “No. He doesn’t need it.” He sat beside him and took his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Yunho walked the doctor out and Asher sighed. “Four weeks, Harry,” he whined. “I don’t want to be slow and tired for another four weeks.”
“You won’t be. You are getting better every day. I know it’s frustrating, but you need to take it easy.”
He frowned, his brow knitting, and he worried his bottom lip. “I can’t... I can’t have... uh, I don’t want you to think it’s because I don’t want to, but physically, I just hurt too much, and you know I don’t mind a bit of pain, but sex right now would kill me. I can’t even open my mouth properly without pain...”
Oh my God.
Harry squeezed Asher’s hand. “Hey, listen to me. I don’t care about that. I’m not here for that, Asher. When and if you’re feeling better, we can worry about that. Until then, you just need to worry about you.” Hearing Asher’s genuine worry that he’d be disappointed in him hurt Harry’s heart. “I’m here for you, not for sex.”
His eyes met Harry’s. “Are you sure?”
“I’m very sure. Even if you wanted to never have sex again, I’d still be here.”
Asher looked kind of horrified. “I don’t think we need to worry about that. God, sex with you is so good.”
Harry chuckled. “But you know what I mean, right?”
Asher nodded. “Thank you.”
“So,” Harry hedged, “if I never wanted to have sex ever again, would you still be here?” He was only joking. Kind of. What he was really asking was would Asher do the same for him?
God, when did I become such a sap?
“I guess. Under sufferance,” Asher replied, trying not to smile, but then he sighed. “Of course I would, Harry. I haven’t wanted to kill you for almost two weeks. Doesn’t that tell you anything? I mean, I was unconscious for some of that time, but still.”
Harry leaned in and kissed him, soft and sweet, both of them smiling.
