Rating: Mild Adult Content
Author's Note: I can't decide if I should continue this into graphic m/m or not. Right now I kinda like it as a simple love story but other opinions and comments are always more than welcome.
Dedicated to Susan F and Kim with love and thanks. I write M7 because I love these characters but it's readers like you who keep me posting.
Watching Ezra fidget and shift against his feather mattress, mumbling unhappily as he tried and failed yet again to find a comfortable position, Buck's blue eyes were filled with sympathy.An outbreak of fever had recently swept through Four Corners on the wheels of a passing peddler's wagon and dozens of the townsfolk had fallen sick. Amazingly, there had been no fatalities but local healer Nathan Jackson had nearly run himself ragged trying to look after everyone. Every day had brought more new cases and soon he had gratefully accepted the offered help of his six fellow lawmen and a few other volunteer nurses. All of them had spent days doing whatever they could to help their fellow citizens.
Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner had both been hit by the fever, but fortunately each had been a mild case and a couple of days abed had seen them on the road to recovery. It was not until the day that Nathan had ironically expressed his belief that the sickness had passed from the community that Ezra had finally succumbed.
Offering few of his usual complaints about menial labor or the expectations of a gentleman, Ezra had done just as much work as anyone else, fetching, carrying, and ministering to the needs of others in whatever capacity was required of him. The gambler had been found passed out on a bench in Josiah's church, which had been conscripted as a temporary hospital ward, and it had been assumed that he had merely given in to the need for a few minutes' rest until Buck had gone to wake him and discovered that Ezra was burning up.
Buck had taken personal charge of his gambler friend, enlisting Josiah's help in carrying the sick man back to his room over the saloon, then brushing off all further offers of help with the excuse that Ezra would be ashamed to have everyone seeing him sick and helpless, and that there were still plenty of patients to go around. Unable to argue with the latter and having no energy to press him on the former, Nathan had agreed to leave Ezra's care in Buck's hands.
Stroking one hand back over Ezra's brow and thick sweat-stiffened brown hair, Buck wondered for the hundredth time what the other men would think if they knew the real reason for his request of this detail . . . what Ezra would think. Would he be shocked to learn that Buck cared for him in ways that friendship didn't cover? Embarrassed or even horrified at the notion of being loved and desired by another man? Especially by the town's number one ladies' man!
Buck smiled at that thought. Women were precious and beautiful creatures, loveable and mysterious, and he adored the whole lot of them. It took a special kind of man to excite that same kind feeling in him but he had long since become comfortable with the fact that a few of them could. Ezra had, almost from the first, though he had no idea about it. To him, Buck was a friend and comrade, a brother of sorts. And Buck had not wanted to risk ruining that special relationship by confessing that he secretly wished for something different; something more.
Awakened by his touch, Ezra's eyes blinked open, staring at him with sleepy confusion. They were bloodshot and heavy-lidded, the green irises dull and glassy with fatigue and fever. Buck continued his gentle petting, fighting back the urge to plant a soft kiss upon that flushed face.
"What're you doin'?" Ezra murmured, looking confused but not unhappy with the soft caress.
"Just trying to make you feel a little better," Buck told him. "Do you want me to stop?"
Ezra closed his eyes again, breathing the word, "Never," as he settled back into sleep.
Buck's own breath caught. Had his own wishful thinking prompted the impression of utter contentment that he had seen in Ezra's eyes?
Carefully lifting his hand away from Ezra's hair, he shook himself. It didn't matter that the southerner wasn't normally someone who encouraged physical contact. If he had been as sick as Ezra was, Buck supposed that he'd probably also revel in the offered comfort of a tender touch. From anyone! It was no fair at all to be assigning romantic feelings to someone who, for all he knew, wasn't even really seeing him when he spoke.
But still, the seed of hope had been planted.
~*~*~*~*~
Hours later, in the dead of night, Buck was awakened by a rustling, creaking noise that was soon accompanied by a soft expletive. "Ezra?" he mumbled, forcing himself into alertness.
The movements stopped abruptly, followed by a rather tentative, "Buck? Is that you?"
Happy to realize that Ezra sounded coherent for the first time in days, Buck quickly fumbled for a match and struck it against his boot, using it to light the lamp next to the bed. Both men blinked and squinted at the sudden light and Ezra shifted, turning partway onto his left hip and pulling the blankets higher against his chest.
Buck smiled at him. "Hey, how you feeling?" Without waiting for an answer, he set the back of his hand against Ezra's brow, grinning at the coolness of his skin and even more so at the fact that his friend flinched away from the uninvited touch with an offended expression. "That fever finally went and broke."
Relaxing marginally, Ezra raised a trembling hand to his own face. "I had the fever," he muttered. "Of course."
"What's the last thing you remember?"
"I was tending to Mrs. Bronson at the church and suddenly I felt so dizzy and lightheaded that I had to lie down a moment," he replied, squinting as he fought for the memory. "The rest is . . . fragments."
Buck smiled and caressed Ezra's cheek without thought, drawing a startled look. "Well, I'm glad all the pieces are coming back. I been real worried about you, partner. You've been pretty damned sick for the last few days."
"I can imagine. I feel as though I could sleep for a week," he replied, speaking around a huge yawn as his eyes drifted shut once more. "I might have done exactly that if it weren't for –" He abruptly bit the sleepily mumbled words off, eyes popping open with a guilty expression in their depths.
Surprised by the color suffusing Ezra's cheeks, Buck asked, "Weren't for what?"
"Nothing. I didn't intend to speak aloud," he admitted, averting his eyes and somehow looking even more embarrassed.
Buck gripped Ezra's arm, trying to convey compassion and understanding. "You can tell me. Whatever it is, I promise I won't laugh. Were you having a nightmare?"
"Dream," he whispered, keeping his gaze fixed upon the ceiling, "But not exactly a nightmare."
Suddenly understanding as Ezra's hips shifted uncomfortably beneath the blankets, Buck's brows rose and he could not help but grin. "Oh, that kind of dream, was it? Well, that's sure nothin' to be ashamed of. I get those kinds of dreams all the time. Reckon every fella does."
"I doubt that," Ezra mumbled. Then louder, obviously not having meant Buck to hear the first remark he said, "I rarely dream as . . . vividly, as I did tonight. I suppose my fevered state simply made the images particularly striking."
He squirmed again and Buck's grin widened. "And right about now you're wishing I'd get up and leave so you could take care of the after-effect?"
Reluctantly, Ezra smiled and shook his head. "I doubt I have the energy. Stay if you wish."
Buck was intrigued to see another half-guilty glance dart his way. He hated to take advantage of a man's vulnerability, but realized that he might never have as good an opportunity to take a chance again. Taking a deep breath, he ventured, "I'd love to stay, and I'd also love to help you out with that there problem . . . if you want me to."
Blank astonishment and naked longing skittered across the gambler's expressive face in equal measure before he once more averted his gaze. "Whatever do you mean?" he said with a casualness that didn't quite ring true.
Seeing that he was going to get no help with this, Buck scooted his chair closer and laid his hand on Ezra's chest, feeling his heartbeat speed up. Looking him straight in the eyes, he allowed his own desire to shine clearly. "Reckon you know what I mean." Ezra went as still as stone, but the hope in his eyes encouraged Buck to continue. "I got feelings for you, Ezra, feelings that ain't just friendship. I want to show you, to touch you with lovin' hands and taste that pretty mouth of yours. I want more from you than you might be willing to give me and if that's so, just tell me now, and I'll never say another word about it. I'll leave this room and you can just wake up tomorrow and pretend that what I'm saying right now was nothin' but a fever-dream."
Ezra raised a trembling hand to the side of Buck's face, stroking his fingers through the thick dark waves of his hair. "I'm not sure that this isn't one already," he said shakily. "God knows I've had this dream enough times to doubt my senses."
A smile, warm and genuine, bloomed over Buck's features at those words, a reflection of the warmth filling his heart. "It ain't a dream," he whispered, lowering his lips to meet Ezra's. The gambler's lips were rough, cracked from days of too-high temperatures, and his mouth sour with time and illness but Buck did not care. As those dry lips moved against his own and a tentative tongue poked out to shyly taste him, Buck thought this must be the sweetest kiss he'd ever known.
Cradling Ezra's head with one hand, Buck continued to kiss him with slow exploratory finesse. His other hand snaked beneath the blankets to stroke across Ezra's hip.
The gambler tensed as he felt the touch, eyes startled. "Buck?"
"Shhh," Buck blew against Ezra's lips, turning the sound into another soft kiss. "I want to."
Ezra's eyelids fluttered and he gave a whisper-soft moan as Buck's large warm hand slid under the edge of his nightshirt and came to rest atop the bare skin of his genitals. He was still half-hard from his dream and Buck's sensual kisses were only serving to arouse him further.
Buck kept his touch gentle, rubbing his palm lightly up and down the burgeoning erection and occasionally brushing the tips of his fingers over the head. Ezra's breath hitched each time he did this, and a long sigh of enjoyment left him when Buck moved his kisses down to explore jaw, earlobe and neck. Feeling Ezra's cock grow firmer, pushing out from his body in a mute demand for more, Buck wrapped his fingers around it, sliding and squeezing in a rhythmic pattern that adjusted as he took note of Ezra's response.
"You doing okay?" he asked, needing to be sure when Ezra went still and silent, not even seeming to breathe. "I can stop if this isn't what you want."
"Oh, God . . . Buck," Ezra's voice sounded strangled, his eyes opening wide as he reached out blindly to clutch Buck's shirt in a vice grip. "Please don't leave now. Please, I'm so close!"
Distressed by the begging, realizing that Ezra had misunderstood his words, Buck kissed him again. "I'm not going anywhere." Glancing down at the tented covers and his hand moving steadily beneath them, he asked, "Can I see you, Ezra? I really want to see you."
Having no words left in him, Ezra grasped the blankets and dragged them off, keeping his fingers clutched convulsively around them as Buck momentarily released his hold and pushed Ezra's nightshirt higher to reveal his stomach and the entire length of his straining erection.
"Beautiful," Buck whispered, taking hold once more and bringing forth a soft groan of need from the other man. Ezra's entire body was tense with anticipation and when Buck added an experimental little twist to his stroke, Ezra gave a choked cry, spurts of pearly liquid shooting forth to cover his clenching stomach muscles.
Buck continued to stroke him, ever more gently as the spasms passed and the rigid organ gradually began to soften. Fishing out his handkerchief, Buck gently wiped away the evidence of Ezra's completion and covered him once more, tucking the blankets warmly around him.
Ezra simply observed his actions, looking drowsy and happy, all of the tension in his limbs melting away as Buck so tenderly cared for him. "If this does turn out to be just a dream," he murmured. "It's still the finest one I've ever had."
A fond smile drifted over Buck's face. "When you're feeling well again, I'll prove to you that it wasn't," he promised. Kissing him softly on the lips, he whispered, "I like taking care of you."
Eyelids drooping sleepily, Ezra rolled over onto his side facing Buck. "In that case, would it be an imposition if I were to ask you to join me? I find that I'm growing rather cold." He yawned, his eyes closing the rest of the way. "And you look as though you could use some rest."
Pleased with the invitation, Buck rose and pushed the chair back out of the way, removing his boots and outer clothing and placing them in the seat for safe-keeping. Then he blew out the lamp and felt his way around the bed. Lifting the covers to slide in between the sheets he curled his long body around Ezra's, wrapping both arms securely around him.
Placing a soft kiss behind Ezra's ear, he whispered, "Go to sleep now. I got your back."
Wrapping both of his hands around Buck's, Ezra pressed them to his heart, snuggling deeper into the comfort of the warm embrace.
Chapter 2
"Wha-?" Ezra grunted, coming groggily awake as he tried and failed to roll over in his bed. Why couldn't he move? Shifting a bit, he realized that another person's arms were holding him in place, a heavy body pressing his own tight against the mattress.
As he squirmed harder, the other person responded by wriggling still closer, sealing their forms together in a tight spoon position, the arms clutching hard around his torso as the sharp point of a chin dug into the back of his head and a deep snore resonated in his ears.
Ezra felt decidedly uncomfortable, both physically and emotionally. A frisson of panic fluttered through his chest as he tried and failed to loosen the other person's . . . the other man's, he acknowledged . . . iron grip. His head was pounding, his body felt achy and tired, and his stomach was a trifle queasy. He couldn't seem remember having gone to bed with anyone. In fact, he couldn't remember going to bed at all. Oh, Lord, this wasn't good..
The need to escape grew stronger. He had never been able to tolerate the feeling of close confinement and the additional uncertainty about just how and why he was in this position only intensified the feeling.
Ezra began to struggle harder, his desperate thrashing waking his bed-partner with a mumble of "What's'a matter?"
"Let me go!" he said, hearing and hating the sound of pleading in his voice. The arms released at once and he flung himself away, only to topple out of bed and land hard upon his hands and knees.
"Are you okay? What's wrong, Ez?"
The concerned questions broke through his confused mental state. "Buck?"
Buck Wilmington scrambled out from between the blankets and came around to help him, draping a supportive arm around Ezra's waist as he helped him back up to sit on the bed. "That fever ain't come back, has it?" he asked, letting go of Ezra's arm to feel his forehead.
With that, the last of the fog in Ezra's mind seemed to clear and the events of the previous night came rushing back to him: waking in the night, talking with Buck Wilmington, being told that he had fallen victim to the illness that had recently swept through Four Corners, inviting the exhausted looking man to lie down beside him.
Ezra stilled as he remembered being soothingly caressed, tenderly kissed, and wholly comforted by Buck's caring words and actions. His face grew heated as he recalled waking from a vividly erotic dream about Buck, only to have the real flesh-and-blood man offer to deal with his resultant physical response and then proceed to do so in a calm and alarmingly expert manner.
"Oh," Buck said softly, easily able to read the thoughts flashing over his friend's flushed features. "Guess you weren't quite all there last night, were you? I'm real sorry for that, Ezra. I didn't know. You seemed okay and I thought . . . aw, hell."
Guilt and self-recrimination filled Buck's eyes, causing Ezra to clutch at his arm when he began to pull away. "No! I do! I mean I was, or at least I think I was . . . did . . . I-I mean, I don't know what I thought last night, but I do know that I don't want you to go now. Please?"
"Real smooth there, partner," Buck teased, a smirk twitching his lips as he listened to the fast, fumbling protest and watched Ezra's expression become increasingly frustrated as his tongue refused to cooperate with his brain.
Ezra flashed an embarrassed smile, releasing his grip on Buck's sleeve. "Forgive me. I tend to be somewhat disoriented first thing in the morning, apparently much more so when my faculties have been impaired by illness."
"Reckon I should have realized that, given how many times I've seen you sleep-walk through a morning on the trail," Buck told him, returning the smile but still looking a trifle guilty. He hesitated briefly and then pressed, "So, do you remember everything now?"
The sick man gave an uncertain nod. "I believe so." He paused a moment. "Did . . . did you tell me that I could imagine all that happened between us to be a fever dream, if I so desired?"
Buck's smile dimmed, a twinge of pain and reluctant acceptance filling his eyes. "I did say that, and if that's how you want it to be then that's what we'll do."
Tentatively Ezra lifted his right hand and placed it over Buck's heart. "You truly wanted to touch me that way? To kiss me?" Buck's silent nod encouraged him to keep going. "So last night, did you want . . .? That is, were you hoping . . .? Was it strictly a matter of offering physical comfort, or . . . ?"
He again could not seem to find the necessary words. With a sigh, Ezra shook his head and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs and hiding his face in both hands so he would not have to see that damnably sympathetic in Buck's eyes. He allowed his tired body to droop, feeling inane and foolish, wishing he had kept his mouth shut and wanting to crawl back into bed and hide until he felt well and strong and blessedly in control of his emotions again.
A strong arm wrapping around Ezra's shoulders made him look up, finding Buck's expression warm, open and full of understanding. "I didn't mean just the physical," he said softly. "Helping you out with that was a hell of a good start, but I meant it when I said I had feelings for you. Real feelings, the kind that make a man want to do everything for the other person that he or she'll let you."
"Everything?" Ezra repeated, a smile twisting one corner of his mouth.
Buck's answering grin sent ripples of warmth through his body.
"I liked feeling you respond to my touch last night, Ezra, it made me happy to know that I was relaxing you and making you feel good after you'd been so miserable and sick for days, but I liked the feeling of holding you close to me afterward even better. I think I could be happy doing that every night for the rest of my life."
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to Ezra's temple, the gesture tender and startlingly intimate. The throbbing ache in Ezra's head seemed to ebb just a little and he surprised himself by turning and sliding both arms around Buck's torso, holding him tight.
Buck completed the circle, rubbing one large hand over his partner's flannel covered back. There was nothing sexual about this embrace. He seemed to understand that Ezra only needed closeness from him now, the comfort of being held securely by loving arms.
"I'm behaving like a child, aren't I?" Ezra mused, loosening his fierce grip and allowing his arms to fall into a loose circle around Buck's waist, his forehead lowering to be cradled in the curve where Buck's neck and shoulder met. He felt safe and warm, cherished and cared for, and at the moment he could think of nothing more wonderful in the world.
Resting his cheek against Ezra's disheveled hair; Buck gave his back a reassuring pat. "That's all right. Reckon we all get a little childish when we don't feel good."
They stayed like this for a couple of minutes, Buck rocking their bodies gently as his hand continued its soothing stroke.
"I could go back to sleep, just like this," Ezra murmured.
"Why don't you?"
He sighed and released his grip, forcing himself to sit upright again. "Because unfortunately, I have pressing matters to attend to."
His companion looked amused. "And what might those be?"
Pink tinged Ezra's cheeks. "Well, I hate to interrupt this lovely moment with such a prosaic topic, but I'm afraid that the need to relieve myself has suddenly taken precedence above all other matters."
Buck looked startled and then he laughed. "Well, I guess a man can't argue with Mother Nature." Rising, he quickly slid into his discarded shirt, pants and boots. "Why don't I give you a little privacy while I go downstairs and fetch you something to eat. It's about time you got some solid food in you."
"Thank you," he said, grateful that Buck did not intend to stand over him and supervise. If he had truly been out of his head for several days, Buck had probably already tended to him at his very worst, but luckily Ezra had not been aware of it. Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss. "Do you think you could bring back some hot water as well?"
"Let me guess, you want to wash up," Buck said, eyes twinkling. "Good sign, seeing that fussy nature of yours takin' over again."
Ezra sniffed. "I prefer the term fastidious."
Buck chuckled and took a step toward the door, then turned and swooped back down to peck a firm swift kiss against Ezra's mouth. Smiling broadly, he gave him a wink. "That's so you'll miss me while I'm gone."
Ezra grinned, licking tingling lips as he watched the door close behind Buck.
A few minutes later, having taken care of his urgent task, Ezra slowly made his way to the pitcher of water standing on his bureau. The inside of his mouth tasted horrible and the very mention of wash water had made him all too aware of the stale odor permeating from his person.
Nose wrinkling as ran his tongue over filmy teeth; he applied a bit of water and tooth powder to the bristles of his bone-handled toothbrush and began vigorously scrubbing. It took two brushings and several rinses before he finally felt satisfied.
He had just set the toothbrush aside and dragged his sweat-stained nightshirt off, intending to exchange it for something cleaner, when the door to his room suddenly opened again. Ezra instinctively clutched the discarded nightwear closer to his exposed body.
Bearing a well-loaded tray of food, Buck kicked the door shut behind him and grinned when he noticed Ezra's state. "Well, now. I didn't expect you to miss me quite that much!" he said jovially. "One little kiss and you're tearing your clothes off. Guess the Wilmington charm must work double strength on the fellas, huh?"
Embarrassed but amused, Ezra admitted, "I didn't expect you to make such good time." Plucking a wash rag free from a bar built into the wall, he said. "However, if you brought the hot water, I'm ready to make use of it."
Setting the tray down, Buck came to stand before him, taking the cloth from his unresisting fingers. "I can see that." He poured a few inches of hot water from a steaming kettle into the china wash bowl on the dresser. "Want a little help?"
Ezra watched him, eyes following every move of Buck's long agile fingers as they added cold water from the pitcher and then swirled through the bowl, testing the temperature of the water. He felt weak and a bit light-headed, but couldn't decide if it was his illness or Buck's sensual movements that were causing it. "Yes, please," he said faintly.
Buck fished a towel from the wall mount and placed it upon the floor, tugging Ezra's arm to encourage him to step forward and stand upon it, then he plucked the nightshirt free from Ezra's hands and turned him to stand facing the dresser. "Just hang onto that. You're still sick and you're shaking a little. I don't want you to lose your balance."
Ezra obeyed, feeling extraordinarily self-conscious standing naked and waiting before a man who had quite suddenly become something more than a friend. His skin tingled with anticipation of Buck's touch, wondering if he would be up to whatever the other man was expecting of him. "I'm ready," he said again, wondering if that rough croak of a voice could possibly have come from his throat.
"Relax, Ezra. I'm just going to give you a nice warm sponge-bath," Buck crooned, reading his state of mind easily in the nervous twitch of Ezra's muscles as the wash cloth was dipped into the warm water and stroked gently over his shoulders. "Nothin' to worry about."
He repeated the motion of the cloth, stroking lower to dampen the skin of Ezra's back and buttocks and kneeling to sponge each leg in turn. Then he stood, dipping the cloth once again before wetting Ezra's stomach, chest and arms. "Soap?"
Shaky fingers picked up a creamy white bar from a small dish next to the straight razor. Buck accepted it, dipping his wash cloth and lathering it well before stroking it over Ezra's body in that same sensual pattern. He skimmed the cloth lightly over his partner's private areas, bathing without the intent of arousal, but Ezra's eager body did not seem to recognize this fact and stirred at his touch.
Buck took his time, soaping the rag once again before scrubbing lightly at Ezra's neck, ears, face and throat before quickly rinsing the cloth and reversing his strokes to remove every trace of soapy residue from Ezra's skin.
"I'll bring up another kettle and a bucket next time so you can wash your hair," he offered, flicking away a few blobs of soap that had splashed up to decorate the dark strands. Glancing down and then grinning at the half-stunned expression on the southerner's face, he said, "Anything else I can do for you?"
At this point, it was only his grip on the dresser that was keeping Ezra's trembling knees from giving way. The light touches had been maddeningly arousing and at the same time intensely comforting. In his present state of undress, there was no way to hide the effect of Buck's touch but Ezra knew that he did not currently have the strength to invite anything more. "You know, it's unkind to take advantage of an invalid," he murmured, seeing the unrepentant twinkle in Buck's eyes.
"I expect you're right," Buck told him, dropping the rag in the bowl and leaning forward to offer a slow kiss and a warm embrace, not seeming to mind at all that the action was getting his clothing wet. "I'll have to owe you one when you're feeling better."
Ezra held on tightly, needing Buck's strength and enjoying the simple exhilarating nearness of him. "However did you manage being so near to me in the state I was in?" he murmured, pressing his lips to his partner's neck. "Much less work up the courage to kiss me the way you did? That couldn't have been a pleasant experience at all."
Buck chuckled. "I managed." Releasing his grip, he fished a clean white nightshirt out of the bureau, skimming a towel quickly over Ezra's still-damp skin before handing the garment over. Ezra was grateful that Buck did not also try to dress him like some helpless child, leaving him to attire himself as the tall man straightened the disarranged bedding.
Obeying the little pat of invitation Buck gave to the freshly fluffed pillows; Ezra eased himself back into bed, sighing at both the comfort and the aggravation of feeling so exhausted after nothing more than a simple sponge bath.
"That's better. Now, time for breakfast," Buck announced, retrieving his abandoned tray.
Seeing Ezra's alarmed expression at the sight of the piled-high tray, Buck told him, "I had good timing today. Got downstairs just as Inez finished cooking. She was real happy to hear that you're feeling better and wanted to be sure I had enough for both of us."
"It looks more like she provided for all seven of us!" Ezra protested. He helped himself to a slice of buttered toast, spooning a layer of scrambled eggs onto it, and reluctantly accepted the glass of milk that Buck offered in place of the coffee he'd been expecting. "Thanks."
"It's just for now," Buck promised, grinning at the look on his face. "C'mon, it'll do you good."
Ezra could feel his strength waning, so he did not bother to argue. He had to admit that the cold milk did taste good and feel good washing down his dry throat. Consuming his meal in small bites and sips, it took him nearly ten minutes to polish off the small breakfast but he noted with amusement that Buck managed to dispose of two cups of coffee, a slice of ham, a generous scoop of fried potatoes and another of beans, three slices of toast and the remainder of the eggs in that same space of time.
Noticing his observation, Buck wiped his lips on a linen napkin and quipped, "Growin' boy."
"Lord, I hope not," Ezra replied, feeling the last of his energy seeping away on a deep yawn. "You dwarf me enough as it is. Much more and we'll make a frightfully strange looking couple."
Buck's smile turned tender at the unconscious wording: couple. "Got one more thing for you and then you can get some rest."
He quickly stirred a packet of white powder into a glass of water and held it out, sliding a hand under Ezra's neck to prop his head up as he scrunched down into his pillows, trying to avoid the dose.
"I suppose Nathan sent that?"
"Yep. It's something to help with the sore muscles and headache. It'll have you feeling a lot better next time you wake up."
"How'd you know I had a headache?" Ezra asked, sipping the liquid, grimacing at the flavor, and then manfully gulping down the rest as quickly as possible. "Oh, Lord, that's even more vile than usual!"
Buck was ready with a glass of clear water to rinse the taste from his mouth. "You spent enough time playin' nursemaid yourself to know that everybody who's had the fever has had aches and pains afterward," he reminded. Then he chuckled. "Pretty much everybody's complained about the cure, too. I think poor Nathan's feeling a little underappreciated."
Ezra laughed softly. "In that case, be sure to extend my thanks."
As he settled down under the covers, Buck bent low and dropped a soft kiss upon the skin in front of his ear, whispering, "I'll be here when you wake up."
Feeling too much to reply in words, Ezra turned his head and pressed his lips to Buck's, trying to convey everything he felt in a single touch. He wished he had the energy to do more, but as Buck laid a hand upon his shoulder and began to gently massage it, soothing him into sleep, Ezra could not bring himself to regret the illness that had resulted in this most precious revelation. A smile creased his lips as he drifted back into the velvety darkness of sleep.
Buck loved him.
END