Author: Kristbethke

**A quick word from Aaron and Lucas…**

“There’s something going on with your friend.”

I looked up from my phone, where a game I’d never admit to liking had my complete attention, and into Aaron’s beautiful gray eyes.  I didn’t often admit it out loud, but I loved looking at him.  He was just gorgeous, and everything about him just worked for me.  He didn’t even have to try to capture my attention and hold it.

“Lucas,” he chastised, a scowl creasing his features. “Are you listening to me?”

“Of course I am.” I said, even though I hadn’t been.  I tossed the phone onto the end table and spread out.  I was trying for enticing, hoping he’d forgive me for my distraction while at the same time taking me up on the offer I was presenting.  When he just continued to stare, I sighed and settled back against the arm of the couch.  “Which friend?”

“Dan,” Aaron said like it was just so obvious.  He sat with a huff on the end of the couch farthest from me.  But when I dropped one leg over the edge, Aaron immediately crawled between my thighs and leaned against my chest.  I wrapped him up tightly and kissed his temple. He was agitated, and I didn’t know why.

“There’s nothing wrong with Dan,” I assured him soothingly.  “He’s exactly the same as he’s always been.”

Aaron did the slow pan to look at me like I was crazy.

I grunted.  “What?”

“Some best friend you are,” he muttered, the scowl once again marring his features.

“You’re my best friend.”

He rolled his eyes, but at least I finally got a grin out of him. “Don’t be cute. You know what I mean.  I’m worried about Dan.”

Truth was I had noticed that Dan was acting differently the past few months.  It wasn’t anything big, and nothing that the casual observer would notice.  But I knew he’d been putting in some heavy thinking, because he always had a little V between his brows when he wasn’t in front of the camera.  He’d been keeping to himself more than was customary.  He usually invited us over to his little house for dinner at least once a week.  I actually had to put some thought into remembering when the last time we’d gone had been.

But Dan hadn’t shared whatever he was going through.  And if he hadn’t talked to me about things, then I knew he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone.  He needed time to work things out in his own mind, to get it right in his head, before he had any sort of conversations or made any declarations.

Given the direction of some of his lingering stares, I thought I might know what was going on in his thick skull.  But I wasn’t going to be presumptuous enough to guess.

“He’ll talk to us when he’s ready,” I told Aaron, pulling the man in tighter.  My man had a huge heart, and he was sensitive to others when they were in need.  I knew he and Dan had a great rapport, even if they were still working on becoming close.  Dan welcomed him in a way that I never had.  It was why Dan got the first kiss instead of me, albeit in front of the camera.

Aaron released a sigh and settled down, relaxing against me.  He was always so warm, and I relished it.

“I know,” he said softly.  “I just worry.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it until he’s ready to talk,” I said practically.  “But in the meantime, you can totally suck my cock.”

Aaron burst out laughing at the non sequitur, just like I’d wanted.  I couldn’t help but grinning in response.  He was just so dang pretty, and I loved seeing him so happy. My breath caught when he wiggled out of my embrace and landed on his knees on the floor, his hands immediately going to the button and zipper on my jeans.

“I love you,” he murmured, reaching in to stroke me.

I held back the moan long enough to say, “Love you back,” and then I was spreading my legs so he had more room to work. All thoughts of Dan, and everything else, fled in favor of my boyfriend’s warm, wet mouth.

**Are you curious to find out what’s going on with Dan? You’re in luck!  Coming December 13^th from Amber Allure, Something Like Peace!**

**Having just finished writing a novella, and taking some time off, and with the Admiral occupied with things that are other at the moment, I was told to write something that interested me.  But I couldn’t think of anything, and so, was going to take this Friday off.  Figured it wouldn’t hurt, and we’d all survive one week without a flash fic.  But well…then this happened.  So, for your enjoyment, a short little scene.**

It was a dark and stormy night.

I didn’t much care for the dark to begin with, and I fucking hated storms.  So despite having seen my thirty-third birthday, I was huddled under the covers like a four-year-old girl.  Every flash of lightning that penetrated my blanket armor made me cringe, and the ensuing boom of thunder happening at practically the same time was enough to make me shudder.  The fear might be irrational, but it was real.

The worst of storm only lasted twenty-seven minutes (I’d been keeping track) and the flashes and horrible crashes started to taper off.  No longer a constant barrage, there were whole seconds between the lightning strike and the rumble of thunder.  The interval drew farther apart, and now there were stretches of thirty or sixty seconds where all I could hear was the pouring rain. I stayed where I was, unable to relax until the storm had well and truly moved on.

The sudden ringing of my phone scared me badly enough that I shrieked.  And then I scrambled out of the safety of my blankets to answer it.

“Hey,” he said as soon as I’d answered.  “You okay?”

I was going to say yes. I was going to lie and play it up like I was fine.  He didn’t need to know how badly I was affected.  I was going to do it, and then another loud crash echoed and I couldn’t suppress the tiny whimper in time. He heard it, like he always did, and I knew lying was futile.

“Nope,” I said, releasing a shaky breath.  “Nope, nope, nope.”

His chuckle was warm, and it did a fair bit to relax me enough though he was laughing at me.  I loved his laugh.  It was the first thing that drew me to him.

“Come let me in,” he said, his voice a deep rumble far better than any thunder.  I was up and moving almost before the words registered.  It took me seconds to run to the door.  I fumbled a little as I tried to get the deadbolt unlocked, and then managed to work it and pull the door open.

He was a bit bedraggled, but none too worse for the wear.  When he saw me, he smiled, his entire face lighting up.  I took an easy breath for the first time in more than an hour, and practically threw myself into his arms the moment he crossed the threshold.  I didn’t care that he was wet, only that his strength wrapped around me and shored me up.

“You shouldn’t have come out in this,” I murmured meaning it.  The thought of him driving in that storm made my stomach twist painfully.  “But I’m so glad you’re here.”

He leaned back, and then pushed my hair back from my face so he could cup my head and tilt it back so he could really look at me.

“You needed me.  Where else was I going to be?”

I sighed, grabbing onto his wrists and locking my gaze on his.  “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, and I heard how much he meant it. He bent and kissed me, and then tugged me toward the bedroom.  “I need to get out of these clothes.  And while I’m naked, perhaps we could do something about getting you relaxed and sleepy, and nothing thinking about the storm at all.”

I followed him quickly, helping to pull off his wet shirt.  I nearly swallowed my tongue as his defined chest emerged.  The sight of him never failed to get my motor running.  I swallowed hard.

“What storm?”

He just grinned and pulled me into the bedroom.

**One more fic in honor of Something Like Trust.  This time featuring a sick Jared with Brandon taking care of him.  Enjoy!**

There was something about a sick loved one that just clawed at my gut.  My only experience previously had been with my brother, and Brian was the kind of guy that wouldn’t sit down, sleep, and get well.  He’d constantly insist he wasn’t sick, and try to do everything he normally did.  He had to be constantly watched to make sure he got the necessary rest and that he took his medication.

So when Jared went from having the sniffles and a scratchy throat to sneezing, hacking, and wheezing in the matter of twenty-four hours, I was terrified my big bad Marine would make himself much worse before he got better.  I made arrangements with the producers, and since I had a light week anyway, I hopped in the car and made the three hour trek home.  I was on edge and practically frantic by the time I pulled in the driveway, and I left my bag in the car in favor of sprinting into the house.

Jared was shivering on the couch, his big body huddled to half its size and covered with both the comforter from our bed and the afghan from the back of the couch.  The coffee table was littered with used tissues, nearly empty glasses of juice and ginger ale, and a whole host of cold medicines.  He lifted his head when I walked in, and his face was pale, with high spots of color on his cheeks.

“What are you doing home?” he rasped, the growl dying in his throat to become a hacking cough.  I rushed forward, trying to support his body.  When the coughing eased, I handed him on of the glasses of liquid and he sipped down what was left in it.  I tried not to be dismayed by the sight before me, but he’d managed to make an awful lot of a mess in just one day.  The Jared I knew would never have allowed his kind of clutter to accumulate.

“I’m sick,” he said, utterly miserable.  He flopped back onto the couch and pulled the blankets up around his ears again.  I helped him, tucking it around his neck and smoothing a hand over his brow.  His skin was hot and dry and I didn’t like that. He needed a fever reducer and more hydration.

“I know, love.  That’s why I’m here.”  I leaned down to kiss his cheek, but avoided his lips when he turned his head.  He scowled, but I just smiled.  “When I get you all better, you can kiss me all you want.”

“I have the plague,” he said with a bit of a whine.  “I’m never getting better.”

I resisted letting the chuckle escape.  He was just being a big baby, but I knew it had to be brought on by just how awful he felt.  He was certainly sick, but it was no more than the flu.  As long as I kept him pumped full of liquids and Tylenol, he’d make a full recovery.  I rubbed against his shorn hair for a moment and then stood.

“How about I make you some chicken noddle soup and some tea?  That’ll help you feel better, right?”  I started collecting the glasses from the table, mentally making a note of coming back with a plastic bag and disinfecting wipes.  The coffee table was probably a cesspool of germs. I’d need to kill them all.

“Not hungry,” he mumbled from  his cocoon.

I shook my head and smiled fondly.  “Just try a little, okay?  I need you to stay strong.”  When I got a nod in response, I turned toward the kitchen, my arms full of dirty glasses.  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I rinsed the glasses and put them in the dishwasher.  I hummed a little as I worked.  Honestly, as upsetting as it was to see my man laid low by some nasty germy bug, I was more than a bit pleased to be the one taking care of him for a change.  He took such good care of me, all the time, even when distance separated us, that to be able to return the favor felt wonderful.  I didn’t even care that he was a little bit whiny.

Two days later, I was ready to strangle him with my bare hands.

Whiny had morphed into petulant and demanding as he still felt like crap. He was getting better, that much was clear, but he wasn’t there yet and he was cranky and unreasonable because of it.  I wanted to take care of him, to keep him fed and hydrated and give him everything he needed.  And usually when he ordered me around, it made me feel safe and cared for.  But demands for a fluffed pillow, or another glass of juice, or a bowl of soup with crackers on the side without the courtesy of a please or thank you was wearing thin.  More than that, he was whiny.

I’d never seen this side of him.  It was disconcerting.  And irritating.  I was not equipped to handle him like this.  I didn’t know what to do.  I locked myself in the bathroom and dialed the phone, hoping for some advice.

“What’s up, Bran?” Zane asked with a yawn.  It was early, but I didn’t feel bad for waking him.

“I l-love your brother m-more than l-life itself,” I whispered fervently.  “But I’m g-gonna kill him.”

Zane’s laughter rang out, and I couldn’t keep my own smile off my face.  I adored Zane, and Audra too.  They were some of the best people on the planet, and I loved them like they were my own siblings.

“He’s a pain in the ass when he’s sick, huh?  Put an M16 in his hands, and he’s fine.  Infect him with germs, and it’s like he forgot he was a badass.”  Zane paused to chuckle.  “You need some back up?”

I sighed heavily. “I should be able to handle my sick lover,” I confided.

“But you don’t have to do it alone.  I can stand up to him for you.”

“Brandon!”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath at hearing Jared call my name.  At least this time it wasn’t followed with a round of hacking.

“He’s calling for me,” I said to said, standing up.

“We’ll be there in a few hours,” Zane responded, and I could hear the rustle of fabric as he moved.

“It’s okay Zane,” I said softly.  “I appreciate the offer but I can handle him.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.  Just needed to commiserate.  Hear a friendly voice.”

Zane made an affirmative noise, told me to call if I needed him, and hung up.

I took another deep breath, and then unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom.  Jared was sitting up in bed, looking better than he had, but still not entirely better.  He needed a shower, but he was too big for me to help him, and he wasn’t steady enough on his feet.  Maybe I could find a chair to set in the stall, and he could get clean that way.

“What do you need, love?” I asked, doing my best not to let the weariness in.

“To apologize,” he said softly.  I stopped short of the bed, the words a surprise.  I looked up at him, into his warm brown eyes that were clear of fever for the first time in three days.  He tried for a smile.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.  I know I’ve been difficult and I haven’t been taking care of you very well.”

“Difficult?” I repeated, letting him know just how much of an understatement that was.  When his smile grew just a little, I knew I’d succeeded in amusing him. I walked closer and sat on the edge of the mattress.  Once I coaxed him into the shower, I was changing the bedsheets.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, and I knew he meant it.

“I love you, Jared.  Completely.  You were sick, and now I know how you react when you aren’t well.  And I can deal with it.”

“I love you, too. And I’ll try to be better next time I get sick.”  His vow was solemn, and I knew he meant it.  Of course, I also knew that it wasn’t likely.  The next time some bug laid him out, he’d probably be exactly the same.  But if that was the worst of his faults, I’d just have to deal with it.  And get him in the habit of taking vitamin C to ward off any sickness.

“It’s a deal,” I said.  I leaned in and kissed his check, then stood up.  “Now get in the shower.  You stink.”