Shea fell asleep almost as soon as Christian pulled out of the parking lot. Christian pulled into his driveway an hour later. He got out, went around to the passenger side, and opened the door. Shea was still out cold.
“Shea? Hey, bud, wake up,” Christian said, patting his thigh.
Shea dragged his eyes open, blinking a few times before looking up at Christian. “Did you get my ice cream?” was the first this he asked.
“Not yet,” Christian murmured and helped him get out of the car.
“Fucker, I want my Frosty.” Shea grunted as he straightened up.
“Relax, I’ll get you your Frosty, don’t worry,” Christian soothed.
“I think you’re a mothafuckin’ liar, Christian Beck,” he muttered as he started for the front door.
Christian sighed and rolled his eyes. Shea was not a pleasant person when he was on pain medication…actually, he was a massive pain in the ass. The last time he was on pain meds was a few years ago when he threw his back out. Christian found him laid out, flat on his back, on the floor in his living room because he was unable to get up. Apparently, he bent over to pick up a magazine off his coffee table and when he straightened back up, out went his back. It was spasming so hard that he was having trouble pulling in a deep breath, and Christian had to call an ambulance. He also took care of him then for about a week, and he was a vicious asshole because of the pain medication. Christian had sworn that he’d never do that again, but really, what choice did he have? Shea had no family to take care of him. Plus, now he was his boyfriend. There was definitely some obligation there.
“Open the damn door!” Shea shouted and kicked the front door.
“Hey! Knock that shit off before you hurt yourself even more!” Christian snapped and rushed over to unlock the front door.
“Fuck off,” Shea muttered in return as he brushed past Christian to walk into the house.
Gritting his teeth, Christian followed, shutting the door behind him. He tossed his keys on the table next to the door and went to find out where Shea went. He found him in the kitchen trying to open a bottle of beer with his teeth.
“Dammit, Shea, you can’t have that!” Christian growled in irritation as he snatched the bottle out of his hand and put it back in the fridge.
Shea mumbled a string of curses as he shuffled out of the kitchen and into the living room. Christian’s house wasn’t overly big; it was a small three bedroom single family home with a two-car garage that he used as his personal painting studio and for storage. He had gotten the place cheap about six years ago because it needed a lot of work. Shea had helped with that.
Christian followed Shea out into the living room, where Shea carefully sat down on the couch and grabbed the remote. After turning on the fifty-two inch flat screen TV that hung on the wall above the fireplace, he settled back into the couch, wincing a few times as he shifted to get comfortable.
Within minutes, he passed out again, his chin resting on his chest. Christian shook his head, went back into the kitchen, and picked up his cordless phone from where it sat on the counter. He punched in Quinn’s number and waited.
“Hello?” Quinn answered, his familiar low gravelly tone easing some of Christian’s angst.
“Hey, Quinn,” he replied with a sigh.
“Feeling any better since last night?” Quinn asked.
Christian had left his parents’ house early last night after have a gigantic panic attack that he just couldn’t get under control. After throwing up twice and then dry heaving, he just had to get out of there.
“I was until I had to go pick up Shea from Abington Hospital,” he replied.
“What happened? Is he alright?” Quinn asked in concern.
“Yeah, he fell off a roof and broke his collar bone.”
“Aw hell, I’m guessing he’s on pain medication then?”
Christian just grunted. All of his brothers knew how Shea acted on pain meds. They have known Shea so long that he was considered part of the family, another brother even. Christian couldn’t imagine what his brothers will think once they found out that the two of them were together. Would they be disgusted? Disappointed?
“That sucks,” Quinn said sympathetically.
“Yeah, it does, but I was calling to ask you a favor. Could you possibly run to Wendy’s and get Shea a chocolate Frosty? He won’t stop bugging me about it and I don’t want to leave him here alone,” Christian said.
Quinn chuckled. “A chocolate Frosty?”
“For his boo-boo he said.” Christian snorted.
Quinn barked out a laugh. “I am so telling Sebastian about that.”
Christian chuckled. “Yeah, go right ahead, maybe Sebastian can come up with some witty retorts for Shea’s off the wall comments.”