Page 29 of Roll With The Punches

Chapter Eight

Over the next several days, as Jeff returned to his usual routine—still obsessively checking himself for ticks—he realized something.

I’m about to be collared.

Not just him, but Stuart, too.

It wasn’t only a matter of them belonging to Brandon. He and Stuart were more than simply property to the man. Brandon loved them and belonged to them as much as they loved and belonged to him.

Emotionally, this was every bit as binding to all of them as a wedding. Ed was working on the legal paperwork they’d need, and maybe one day one of them would marry Brandon.

In Jeff’s mind, he didn’t care. The paperwork would give them legal protections. Taxes might be a little iffy, but Scrye had already given them some free advice, and they’d be taking everything to him when it was time to file together as a “household.”

Friday morning, Jeff was in the master bathroom when Stuart walked in. Jeff had one foot up on the counter and his balls held to the side as he tried to get a look under them in the mirror.

“Does that look red to you?” Jeff asked him.

“Your balls?”

“Where you found the tick. Is there a bulls-eye?”

Stuart turned his head and leaned in. “It doesn’t look red-red. It looks like it’s pink because you keep rubbing it. I think it’s healed over though.”

“I put rubbing alcohol on it again this morning.”

“Ow. I don’t see a mark there anymore.”

“Are you sure?”

“If you’re that worried, go to the doctor and have them check out your balls.”

He put his foot down. “I don’t want to blow a copay for that.”

“I’ll blow you. Besides, that’smyjob.” Stuart wore a playful smile, but Jeff was serious. Apparently Stuart realized that, because his smile faded. “I mean, it looks like it’s pink because you’re freaked out over ticks and keep rubbing it. But that little bump where the tick was is gone.” He pulled Jeff in for a kiss.

Brandon walked in with his coffee. “Is he still worried about ticks?”

“Yes,” Stuart said.

Brandon set his coffee down. “Go see the doctor if you’re worried.”

“I’m going to look weird if I go have a doctor look at my balls when there’s nothing wrong with them.”

Stuart snorted. “You look weird standing with one foot on the counter and trying to stare at them in the mirror. What happens if you slip and fall? Explain that to the ambulance crew. ‘How’d you fall, Mr. Ortiz? Oh, I was staring at my junk in the mirror.’”

Brandon laughed. “Sorry, but thatisfunny.”

Jeff glared at them.

* * * *

Brandon got it, that Jeff was concerned. Probably because he’d found another tick—this one dead—in his dirty clothes when he’d gone through them on Monday.

If Stuart had picked a tick off Brandon’s balls, he’d be acting the same as Jeff, most likely.

“Buddy, seriously, if you’re that worried, make a doctor appointment. But rubbing the spot is only going to keep making it pink.”

Jeff finally blew out a long breath. “I’m overreacting, aren’t I?”