“Yes, Sir.” Alain turned down the covers as he stood, his legs surprisingly shaky. “I’ll go. See y’all after a while for supper, oui?”
“Don’t go yet, Alain. Stay right there.”
He made it to the bed somehow, though it didn’t feel like his feet ever touched the floor. He was grateful for the soft pillows though and stretched out long. He was curious what Isaac wanted with Alain, but he couldn’t see them from the bed.
“Scenes are for truth, yes, little one?”
“Yes, Sir. There ain’t no good, lyin’.” Alain’s voice was still trembling, the barest bit.
“No. So tell me what you’re feeling. You’re shaking a little.” The bed moved, and Neil glanced over to see Isaac sit and invite Alain up to sit beside him. “Did I scare you?”
“No, Master Doctor Sir. I wanted to… I wanted to be with you. Helping him. Helping you. Y’all are…so fine. So pretty.”
“Thank you. You’re lovely too, Alain.” Sir stroked Alain’s cheek with the back of his fingers. “Would you like to relax with us for a bit? I don’t want you to be alone.”
Alain didn’t say anything, but whatever he did, it must have been just right, because Master Isaac held Alain in his arms, keeping him close.
“It’s all right, little one,” he heard Isaac whisper, but most of their conversation was too low for him to make out. Soon enough though, Isaac set Alain down on one side of him, then stretched out on his other side.
Neil reached back for Alain with one hand while letting his Sir pull him close, giving him comfort and warmth and a solid place to rest his head. Which was exactly what he needed right now, except that he had to turn his face the other way to avoid pressing on his stitches like a fool.
“Sorry to leave you, but Alain needed me too. How do you feel?” Sir held him tight. Isaac never treated him like he was fragile, even after a longer scene.
“Better.” Was that true? Neil thought it was. Just that little bit of connection, of reestablishing his relationship with Isaac, had been a balm to his jangled nerves. And having Alain there…it had been surprisingly easy.
He got a nod, and Isaac exhaled heavily. “Better. Me too. We needed that. Also, your ass is very pretty.”
That surprised a laugh out of him, and he wiggled a little. “Why thank you.”
“Lawd, yes. Look at that color!” Alain was trying to snuggle in without touching his ointment-slathered ass and it was as amusing as it was adorable.
Isaac chuckled. “Rosey. It’s a good look on you.”
“You should see our kitten’s, Guapo. It shines up like a dream.”
Alain made a soft noise, half protest, half chuckle. “Reckon we match.”
“Mmm. As it should be. Pretty boys with pink backsides. I approve.” Isaac rolled his shoulder. “I’ll be feeling this a little tomorrow too I think. I’m not complaining.”
“Hmm.” Pretty. Him. Hardly. Still, it wasn’t worth arguing about. Not today anyway.
Maybe after supper. Then he could be a bit of a grump.
“Hmm?” Isaac sighed. “Stop that. You’re not supposed to be thinking, remember?”
“Thinking?” He chuckled and let himself breathe, let the scent of men and leather and ointment surround him.
Isaac took a lazy kiss. “Nap. Then food. If you have to think, think about your pink ass.”
“More scarlet, I think,” Alain whispered. “I could paint you, so fine, Chou.”
“No painting. Nap.” Neil reached back and gave Alain a pat. “Settle down now, kitten.”
Isaac wordlessly rested a hand on Alain’s arm where it draped over Neil’s chest.
“Oui, Messrs.”
This was a fantasy. This was insane and perfect and impossible and just right.