Page 47 of Should Our Hearts Catch Fire

“…Okay.”

Seven minutes later, Ellis pulls up in front of Dawson’s apartment building. He grabs his phone to give Dawson a call when the passenger door opens, startling the living hell out of him.

Dawson slides into the seat, looking exactly as Ellis pictured he would based on how he sounded on the phone. His eyes are wide and red-rimmed, and he looks like he’s about to hurl.

“Thanks for picking me up,” he says mechanically.

“Don’t mention it,” Ellis says, putting the car in motion. “Uni Hospital?”

“Yeah.”

Thanks to morning traffic, it takes them over half an hour to get to the hospital. Ellis’ stomach twists into knots as they enter the emergency room, the whole situation too similar to the last time.

Last time, Cal pulled through two invasive surgeries. He’ll be fine, Ellis reasons.

Seeing as Dawson is still visibly shaken, Ellis instructs him to take a seat and approaches the lady at the reception. She’s nice,and Ellis tries his hardest not to snap at her when she tells him they need to wait for a doctor. Instead, he grits out a begrudging ‘Thanks’ and goes back to Dawson.

“We need to wait, don’t we?” Dawson asks with resignation when he sees Ellis’ sour face.

“Yeah.” He collapses into the chair next to him, feeling the beginning of a pounding headache creep in. God, he needs coffee.

Fuck. Coffee.

His chest constricts, his fingers twitching with the urge to pick up the phone and text Gabriel to let him know why he’s not coming this morning. He nearly laughs when he remembers how hastily he saved Gabriel’s number after the initial shock had worn off. And yet, it took him a good 36 hours to pull his head out of his ass and put a name to his feelings.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” Dawson says suddenly, letting out a small, humorless chuckle.

Ellis allows himself a small smile. “We really do.” The stark contrast between their interaction two months ago and now almost makes him laugh for real. It’s kind of insane how quickly he’s come to care for Dawson in such a short time, after all but ignoring his existence for the past six years.

The contrast between Dawson then and now is even more startling. Two months ago, right in this waiting room, Dawson was kind of a mess. But he wasn’t a shivering, shaky mess sick with worry. Two months ago, Dawson wasn’t crazy in love with his husband.

So much has changed for Ellis too. Two months ago, he’d never even dream of having a civilized conversation with hisbrother, let alone sitting down for lunch with him. Laughing with him.

Two months ago, he didn’t know about baristas with soulful eyes and inappropriate jokes who could light up the whole room with one smile.

Two months ago, his heart wasn’t on the line.

“Ellis?” Dawson says in a small voice, his eyes quickly welling up. “What if…”

Ellis swallows. “He’ll be fine. He’s tougher than you think.”

“He’s already beat the odds twice. But doing it a third time…no one is that lucky.”

Ignoring the voice in his head that’s been whispering the same thing, Ellis says resolutely, “He’ll be fine.” Acting on instinct, he slowly slides an arm around Dawson’s shoulders and pulls him to his side for a loose hug, feeling awkward as he does so.

Dawson has no such qualms, leaning into him and resting his head on Ellis’ shoulder. Albeit reluctantly, Ellis has to admit the human contact feels… Well, it doesn’t feelterrible.

Thankfully, a doctor approaches them within a few minutes, hope blooming in Ellis’ chest when he sees the man’s pleased expression. The hope transforms into relief when the doctor promises Cal will be just fine, explaining Cal suffered a mild heart attack which luckily didn’t require surgery, just administration of some clot-dissolving drugs.

“You’ll be able to see him shortly,” the doctor assures them before excusing himself.

“Fucking genetics,” Ellis grumbles when they’re alone.

“From your dad?” Dawson guesses, already familiar with their family’s medical history.

Ellis grunts, tasting bitterness on his tongue. “He can find a way to mess with our lives even when he’s not here.”

Dawson’s fingers curl gently around his arm. “To be fair, Cal has been eating a lot of donuts,” he says with mirth.