On Point (Out of Uniform 3)

“Knew I loved you.” Maddox’s eyes were already drifting shut. Ben’s heart gave a weird flip. Maddox was always so free with his affection even as he kept his darker emotions bottled up. What would it be like if—

No. Not thinking about that.

His folks—he supposed he better start thinking of Camilla that way—exited the room.

“I better head out too. Dylan’s making fish tacos.” Apollo’s grin was dopey, but it was so nice to see him content after his long road to happiness. Moving closer to Ben’s bed, Apollo dropped his voice. “You guys going to be okay?”

“Sure.” Ben was learning not to shrug—hurt too much.

“Because things have been weird between you two for months now.”

“We’re cool.” Ben hoped like heck he wasn’t lying.

“If you need someone to talk to—”

“I don’t.” Last thing Ben needed to do was confess what a mess he’d made of things with Maddox, and he certainly wasn’t telling Apollo about the inconvenient attraction that started all this. It was well and truly time to put that behind him. Focus on being the best possible friend for Maddox.

“I’m still worried about him killing your dumb ass with a crutch after you guys are back home.”

“We’ll be fine.” Ben just had to hope that was true, that the tension between them could be over and done now. He could concentrate on getting Maddox back up to strength, back with the teams. Back with him, where he belonged. And long after Apollo left, Ben watched Maddox sleep, a deep peace settling over him. This was where they both belonged. No more complicating their friendship. This was enough.

* * *

“Maddox? You okay?”

Ben’s voice drifted across the dim room, cutting through Maddox’s cloudy mind. The nurse had lowered the lights a few hours ago, but Maddox had dozed most of the evening and found real sleep elusive now. The hospital was almost eerily quiet—no voices, no nurses coming in to take vitals, and he was off the beeping monitors that had defined his interminable ICU stay.

“Fine. Just thirsty. But I don’t want to bug the nurses.” Maddox wasn’t lying—his throat seemed constantly sticky and parched these days. But his wakefulness had more to do with the man across the room than a simple, easy-to-resolve bodily need. “Go back to sleep.”

“Can’t. Trying to wean off the heavy painkillers—”

“They told you not to do that.” Maddox had witnessed Ben arguing with the nurses earlier. He was chomping at the bit to go home, but making himself suffer wasn’t going to do it.

“Hate feeling loopy.” Ben pushed the remote for his bed with his good hand, coming up to a sitting position. It was weird, being back in the same room as Ben. Oddly reassuring, but also maddening because nothing had changed between them, nothing resolved. And above all else, necessary—Maddox had needed to see Ben more than the antibiotics, more than the morphine, more than the stitches holding his head together.

He’d never forget the look on Ben’s face when they’d wheeled him in—amazement, joy, pity all warring for supremacy on his noticeably paler and thinner face. The pity was the hardest to take. He’d known he looked like crap—Addy had told him they’d shaved most of his head to get to the deep scalp lacerations. He still hadn’t seen himself in a mirror and wasn’t looking forward to that. However, seeing Ben all feeling sorry for him, somehow that had hit hard, made all this seem less surreal and more concrete, like holy cow, he really was facing months of rehab.

“Oh there’s your mug.” Wincing, Ben gestured at the hospital table which the nurse had moved to the end of Maddox’s bed. A big cup of ice water sat there, mocking him. Ben sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed before Maddox realized what he was about.

“Hey. You can’t get up,” he warned Ben. “It’s fine. Not thirsty now.”

“BS. And this isn’t ‘up.’ It’s a step. Maybe two. I hauled your ass much farther—”

“For which I am grateful.” Maddox’s voice was thick. He still wasn’t sure how exactly one thanked someone for everything Ben had done. “You saved my life, no question. And no one’s doubting that you’ll be back in the field soon, but if you face-plant on the linoleum, the nurses will kill both of us.”

Ben’s glare could wither the hardiest corn crop back on the farm. “You need to stay hydrated.”

Standing up, Ben looked steadier than Maddox had expected. And ridiculous. Couldn’t forget that part, Ben’s big body in a tiny blue hospital gown, back untied to give easier access to his shoulder, which was in a complicated-looking sling.

“Your ass is flapping in the breeze,” Maddox warned with what felt like his first real laugh since this whole thing started.

“Shut up.” Ben winked at him. “And you should be so lucky to see my ass.”