The One Who Got Away — CH 18

 

Chapter 18

Part One: The Look

Just when Kay got home, her phone rang. Stella. She took a sip from her glass of water, then picked up. "Hey."

"He's a really great guy."

Kay exhaled softly. "I know."

"And..." Stella said, her voice tinged with guilt. "You make a lovely couple."

Swallowing, Kay walked to her couch. She sat down, the water glass still in her hand. No words came out for some reason; there were too many of them and none at all. She felt torn between relief, dissolving tension and emotional whiplash.

From the other end, Stella exhaled quietly. "I don't think I've ever seen you this happy with anyone."

Kay leaned back. "Which is exactly what I was telling you the other day. And you didn’t believe me."

"I get it," her sister said quickly. "And… I guess I really do owe you a real apology."

The last bit made Kay nod. Stella had said sorry during their last phone call — but back then, it had been clear that she hadn't truly known what the apology was for. "Well," she murmured. "I’m glad you’ve seen the light."

Stella snorted a chuckle. "Yeah, I guess I was clueless, wasn’t I?"

Kay shrugged. "It’s okay to be clueless. I was when Seth and I first reunited. What’s not okay is being dismissive of someone just because they have a disability."

From the other end, she could hear Stella squirm. "I never personally met any… disabled people before," she admitted. "At least not with a disability this…"

"Severe?"

Stella huffed softly. "Yeah." After a pause, she added, awkwardly: "I just couldn’t imagine anyone falling in love with… someone like that."

Obviously. Kay’s fingers tapped the glass she was holding. "And now?"

"Now that I’ve met Seth, I can understand it. I mean, he’s honestly… kind of wonderful. I guess it’s secondary that he’s in a wheelchair."

Kay snorted softly. "Which, again, is what I was trying to tell you already last week."

"I know," Stella said firmly. "Yes. Which is why I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you when you said all those things."

"You know," Kay said after a pause. "I wasn’t really offended about you trying to look out for me. What got me furious was how you talked about him. You didn’t ask anything about him as a person. You just assumed that a quadriplegic was all he is. Do you realize how hurtful that is?"

Stella swallowed audibly. "I hope you didn’t tell him what we said."

Kay scoffed. "I didn’t need to. He could more than imagine." The memory of their fight tightened her heart, and she blinked, setting the water glass down on the coffee table. "And you know what? He wasn’t even half as offended as I was. That’s how used he is to people overlooking him as a person." Kay couldn't fully hold back the tremble in her voice as emotions — grief — surged in her chest. She took a breath.

Stella spoke up gently. "He seems so… well adjusted with it all."

Now Kay couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah." She held back from saying what she really wanted to: that what Stella saw as "well adjusted" was just survival — and it cost Seth something every single day.

“You wouldn’t believe the shit he has to put up with every day,” she said instead. "Including condescension and ignorance from strangers."

Stella made a hissing sound. "I hope I didn’t make a complete ass of myself today."

Kay smiled with a shrug. "You did fine."

Stella hesitated. "I was impressed by how well you seemed to know how to deal with his… issues."

"Go ahead," Kay said, smirking to herself. "You can ask."

Of course her sister played innocent. "Ask what?"

With a chuckle, Kay rolled her eyes slightly. "I know you have questions about his disability."

"Okay…" Stella cleared her throat. "That seizure — was that…?"

"No seizure," Kay interrupted her. "Spasms."

"I mean when he was shaking all over his body and his arms went all…"

Kay nodded. "Yes. Muscle spasms. Nothing dangerous."

"Oh." Stella said quietly. And then: "It looked really painful."

Instinctively biting her lip, Kay shifted on the couch, pulling up one knee. "It can be. Though he doesn't feel most of it."

Stella hesitated. "How much can he feel?"

Kay ran a hand through her hair, lingering on her ponytail, pulling slightly. "He can feel everything from the shoulders up."

Another silence. "But nothing below that?"

The quiet ache pulling at Kay’s chest shouldn't have been there still. Not after all this time. But it was. "No," she said. "Nothing below that."

When Stella stayed silent instead of responding, Kay snorted dryly. "Yeah. It sucks."

A soft exhale came from the other end before Stella spoke. "For both of you."

Kay blinked. She didn't want it to be true, but yes: It sucked for her, too. Because even if Seth reached a state where he was comfortable with her touch below injury, that touch would always stay what it was — one-sided not only in gesture, but also in feeling. She swallowed. "At least I can feel him," she said. "So it sucks less on my end."

Stella snorted softly into the phone. "Yeah but… he can't touch you back. I mean…" She trailed off. "Forget it, I don't want to sound insensitive again."

"No.” Kay reached for her glass with a shrug. "Go ahead."

The older sister cleared her throat. "Don't you miss being held by your man?"

Kay couldn't help but smile a little. ‘Your man’. "Of course I miss it," she said. "How could I not?" Putting her glass back on the table, she straightened up. "But Stella, the thing is… There's only one Seth. And he can't hold me. So… it is what it is."

A speechless second passed before Stella replied. "You really love him."

Exhaling, Kay nodded. "And he loves me."

"Oh yeah," Stella affirmed without missing a beat. "That's plenty obvious."

Kay smiled, thinking of Micah. ‘Any random idiot’. She looked at her watch. "Listen, I need to hang up. I’m going to spend the night at Seth's house, and my apartment is a mess. Should do some cleaning before I leave."

Of course she could hear the unspoken question from Stella's end, the one that had undoubtedly formed into specifics now — the question about what "spending the night" meant. The other day, Stella had been too clueless to even consider it. Now though, she was wondering, a hundred questions probably running through her head. I know the feeling, Kay thought, as she stood up.

"Uhm," Stella finally murmured, taking an audible breath. "How do you guys—"

"I'm not gonna go there with you, Stel."

"Okay. Fair enough."

"Yep." Kay had never been one to lay out her sex life to her sister, and she certainly wasn't going to start now. Besides, there was no sex life to lay out — not yet. Which bugged her more than she was willing to admit to herself. To Seth. She knew it was going to happen, no question. But how and when? No clue. Should she be the one to initiate it? Or have another conversation about how they were going to navigate that? She didn't want to put pressure on him, but she also wondered if anything was going to happen at all if she didn't press a little.

Either way — the wait was becoming harder to bear with every night Kay spent over there. Of course there was intimacy between them — lots of it. They kissed, they cuddled. But all of that always left Kay longing, aching, yearning for him in the most painful way — deliciously painful, yes, but still without release, without the option to have him, fully and completely. And God, did she want him. More than ever. 

She cleaned the kitchen. The bathroom, The bedroom. And then she cleaned some more. It felt like it wasn’t just dust and dirt she needed to get rid of, but also the tension that had built up over the past few days. Tension that was now finally starting to peel off her. She hadn't felt like she needed her sister's approval to be with Seth, much less her permission. And she still didn't. But hearing something like the beginning of comprehension in Stella’s voice felt… freeing — even if Kay didn’t want it to, and even though she still wondered how much "Beverage Guy" had to do with it. Stella had seen Seth. Not Seth the quad, but Seth the guy. And that was what counted right now. So here she was, cleaning like the dust that had settled on her furniture lately was finally allowed to lift.

By the time she’d finished cleaning, Kay felt like she had just shed a layer of skin. 

She stepped into the shower and let the hot water run down her body, steam filling the air. And just like the cleaning had been more than clearing her living space, the water on her face washed away more than sweat.

When she got out, the apartment felt calm again. And for the first time in days, so did she.

She packed what she needed for the night, grabbed her keys, and headed out — the sun low behind her as she drove to Seth's house.

At first, it was just another night, nothing out of what was becoming a loved routine. They ate dinner. Brian told a funny story about his aunt's cat who stole the neighbor’s dentures. They sat on the patio until it got dark and the air became slightly chilly. Kay took care of the dishes, Seth and Brian did their usual bedtime-routine, the one he still didn't let her see. She went to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed, then watched some TV in the living room while the door to Seth's room stayed closed. 

It was after Brian came out and she got in that Kay realized: tonight was different. She knew the moment she stepped into the bedroom, the moment she saw Seth lying there. He wasn't on his side, like he usually was for sleeping, but on his back, head slightly raised. The splint he wore on his left hand every night was missing. And he was covered only by a sheet. But more than anything, it was the look in his dark eyes.

A look she hadn't seen in years. A look that not only tingled on her skin but also reached a deeper part of her body. A look that went beyond feeling. 

It was the same look Seth had had in his eyes six years ago, when he had sat on her couch in that tiny one-room apartment of hers; that night everything had started. Here it was again: Longing. Burning. Shy. Asking. Knowing. She had missed it so much.

Kay swallowed, her mouth dry. Without saying a word — because just like six years ago, her brain was once again emptied of all intelligence – she went over to him, holding his gaze while her body quietly squirmed under it. She eased herself onto the bed, moved in close — slowly, as if even her breath might break the moment. Her hand was on his cheek as she licked her lips, and Seth blinked once — his gaze steady. The kiss was tender at first, almost tentative. Seth's lips lingered on hers with gentle pressure for a moment, holding, savoring — then they parted and he pulled her in with that quiet, patient intensity that only he could pull off and that made her eyes flutter as warm electricity filled her body. The feeling built quickly into more, like it always did — a throbbing deep inside, an ache that felt both sweet and unbearable. She ran her hand into his hair, kneading, then at some point found herself lifting his head so she could hold him closer, dig her fingers into the back of his neck.

A faint tremble in his abdomen made her pause — their mouths parting for just a second as she gently lowered his head back down. His eyes opened again. Holding. Burning more now, asking less. "Give me your neck," he said — voice low and a little breathless, but in the good kind.

Kay closed her eyes with a shudder as she turned her head to the side. His lips found the soft spot behind her ear, his tongue wandering down her neck until he whispered, "Higher," and she moved up to give him access to the rest of her neck — all the while writhing under the cascade of goosebumps and heat rushing through her. All he had was his mouth, but God, it felt like he was everywhere.

"I need to sit up more," he murmured at some point, apparently reaching the limits of what he could do with gravity keeping his head down. 

Kay reached for the control remote — no time to sip and puff right now. Seth's left knee kicked her in the hip when the head of the bed went up. "Ow."

An adorable flash of awkwardness flickered up in his face. "Sorry." 

Which made her lean for another kiss while his upper body was still going up. "You're slipping," she remarked teasingly, putting a steadying hand on his chest as she pushed the button to stop the process.

"Who cares," he said with a lopsided grin, and he tested if he was able to lift his head by himself now — he could. "Come here."

Gladly. Kay pushed herself up, moving one leg across his hip, then slid on top of his thighs, straddling him. She leaned in, grabbing his face to kiss him, losing herself in his mouth again for a moment. But now he had more control, and he soon moved back to her neck, further down. Heat rushed through her as his lips, his tongue, found every sweet spot — every millimeter of skin that responded to him. 

With a moan, she pulled back. Straightened, looked at him. For a short moment, she hesitated, a flicker of nervousness and apprehension causing her to take a breath. But his eyes, holding hers, was all she needed. Wordlessly, she pulled her t-shirt over her head. 

Seth went still. Stopped breathing for a moment, before his auxiliary muscles flexed with the sudden intake of air. He didn't say anything, just stared at her, taking her in, eyes roaming over her body with almost incredulous wonder. He had looked at her like that in the past — every time they'd had sex, really. But it had never been with this restrained longing, with this raw vulnerability. And then, as their eyes met again — the hint of a spark, a twitch in his lips that said not only awe, but also want.

Kay smiled, shifting closer. It wasn’t just desire pulling her in — it was the quiet weight of every kiss, every long night, every step they’d taken to get here. She leaned in, one hand bracing on the headboard, the other once again finding Seth's neck. She didn't tease him, because this was no game, not today. When his lips were on her breasts, first softly, then with passion, she let out a low gasp, her hand holding steady behind his neck to support the angle he needed. He pressed in harder, and she felt him exhale against her skin — not just breath, but something heavier. Like a shudder. Like a homecoming. Kay clung to him, her fingers kneading the back of his neck with new emotion. It was a surge of love, so much love, and a silent release of all the longing and yearning that she would never have the right words for. Letting go of the headboard, she murmured the only thing she could — formed both as a sigh and a question: "Seth."

He looked up. Then looked down at his right hand that she had picked up and was now holding in hers mid-air, hovering, asking. She saw him lick his lips, saw the way his breath caught ever so slightly before his eyes met hers again, and he did something he only ever did when words failed him — a deeply ingrained muscle memory from his early rehab days, maybe: a blink. A silent ‘Go ahead’. 

She guided his hand to her chest, cupping it in hers as she pressed it to her breast, moving his fingers over her hard nipple — ignoring, no, welcoming the slight spasm that rippled through them. She let it become part of the moment, just like the tremble in those silent muscles was part of him. Kay bit down on her lip, a low hum escaping her throat. She let her eyes close for a second, applying more pressure, guiding his hand to squeeze. “It feels so good, Seth,” she breathed, opening her eyes to look at him. He was staring at his hand with an expression that said so many things at once. Processing. Grief. Trust. Amazement. Fire. 

Slowly, Kay slid it further down, towards her belly. And even though it was her guiding the gesture, it made her shudder as if it was him. She glanced back at him, pausing, checking. 

He looked back, and this time, he didn't blink. His voice was quiet, almost rough, like it was coming from somewhere deep inside. "Lower."

Kay's breath caught — not from surprise, but from how fully the word wrapped around her. All he needed to do was say it, and she came undone. Her eyes stayed transfixed on his face, watching him watch. Seeing how the amazement in his eyes became desire, how his lips slightly parted as she moved all the way down to her waist. As she slid both their hands under her panties, she pushed up on her knees — to reach better, but also for him to fully see. And then she gasped, her thighs trembling. "Fuck, Seth."

His eyes flicked up to her face, then back down to her groin. "Are you wet?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"How wet?"

The throbbing between her legs was so strong, the pressure of his fingers made it hard to speak. "So wet that my panties are soaked," she breathed shakily, her hip automatically starting to move.

"Take them off."

And where the throbbing had been strong before, the quiet demand in his voice made the ache unbearable. It felt like she couldn't rush enough as she climbed off of him to tug them down. The urgency of lust had her now, the need to feel him more, to release through him. Free of the panties, she came back to him, knees braced as she eased herself over his thighs. She took Seth's hand again — moaning when she slid herself over his fingers. For a second, it stunned her that this was happening — that he had made it happen.

Heat and shivers travelled up her body. She was unraveling, each grind and gasp loosening the thread a little more. Her breath was nothing but gasps now. Her eyes found Seth's again. In them, she saw a reflection of what she herself was completely taken over by: pleasure. Only that his was not urgent, but quiet, open. As she kept moving, writhing, grinding around his fingers inside her, her free hand went to his face, cupping it. He leaned into the touch, his eyes steadily on hers, anchoring her while her breath quickened – she was close now. Her thumb moved to his parted lips, and it was when he bit down on it that she went over the edge. The orgasm rippled through her hard, waves of seemingly endless release. 

Her body trembled, hips stilling slowly, as something inside her settled. She didn't open her eyes right away. Didn’t need to. Her hand was still on his cheek, and his face was warm beneath her palm — present, steady, still. As her breath slowly calmed and her vision cleared — maybe from daze, maybe from tears — she looked again, really looked. Seth's face was flushed now, breath uneven, the top of his shoulders rising in bursts. For a second, Kay worried he was having AD or something. "Are you ok?" she asked, but his glowing eyes said it before he even replied, voice rough. "Yes," he rasped. "Kiss me."

And Kay realized, a grin spreading across her face as she leaned in: this was not a flare of discomfort, not at all. It was the opposite.

Part Two: Serious Tilt

Kay kissed him, and it answered his hunger — fast, hot, all-consuming.

Her lips, her weight, the scent of her skin — yes, this. Her fingertips ran down the sides of his neck slowly, like burning feathers, and Seth closed his eyes.

He hadn’t gone into this night with a clear vision of what it would look like — not for him, not for Kay. Everything about it was new territory, so he hadn’t really known what to expect. Just that it would probably be careful, maybe awkward, maybe even clumsy. And that, in the end, nothing might come of it at all.

He hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected Kay to come undone like that, from the little he had to offer. 

But most of all, Seth hadn’t expected what it would do to him. He’d always known it would be different on every level — and it was. But he’d never imagined that different could also be good. The desire in her eyes, the urgency of her touch where he could feel it… and most of all: how she had unravelled more with each minute, squirming not only from what he gave, but from what she took — of him. She wanted him. Not an idea of him. Him. He had heard her say it before, in other words, in other ways. But now — now he felt it. Understood it. And that truth leveled him.

Still, for a brief moment, watching his own hand on Kay's body had felt foreign — abstract, even jarring. Only the visual reaching him, not the warmth of her skin, or the softness of her breasts, nor anything else. 

But then, quickly, being there with her — witnessing every squirm, every gasp, every hungry glance — became bigger than lack and absence. More powerful. And then, with her climax, it had happened — the one thing he had never expected. A wave of pulsating heat, pushing from somewhere deep inside of him, a surge of visceral desire rushing up his neck. It wasn’t the kind of turned-on he’d known before the injury — how could it be. There was no urgency for release — he knew there wouldn't be one. But he still felt it — was feeling it now. The need to have her. To feel her. To lose himself in this.

"Tell me what feels good," Kay whispered now, her lips drifting from his mouth toward his neck. 

Seth inhaled her scent — that heady mix of sex, perfume, and something unmistakably her. "You," he murmured with a smile. "You feel incredible."

She giggled softly, her breath touching his skin — playful and irresistible — and it completely undid him. "What about this?" she whispered, and let both hands thread through his hair, filling every inch of his scalp with her fingertips. "God, yes," he sighed — and then shuddered at the feel of a wet kiss beneath his jawline. Then another. And another. Her fingers still kneading his hair. Seth surrendered to it, let himself melt. Sensory overload — the best kind. He could feel so little of his body, but what he could feel — God, did he feel it right now.

Kay moved lower, her mouth trailing to the back of his neck. When her tongue flicked just below his earlobe, a moan escaped him. "This," he whispered. "Stay there."

She stayed. Her mouth moved in slow, wet circles just beneath his ear, tongue teasing, lips grazing, and it lit a fuse in him that had nowhere to go — only burn. "Bite me," he rasped, without even thinking.

She exhaled — sharp, hot. Surprised maybe — and then she bit. Her teeth around his earlobe, sharp, gently pressing. It was a sweet pain, giving him an outlet he hadn't known he needed. Cutting into everything he couldn’t say, couldn’t feel, couldn’t have. In his mind, his arms pulled her close, hands gripping her ass. "More," he whispered. "Suck on it." And when she did, he let go of every image — just felt. Here. Now. 

Maybe it was the sound he made — or just the way his breath caught — but her lips paused, pulling back. She looked at him, her expression soft, a faint line creasing her brow. “Still good?” she asked.

"Yeah," he breathed. "More than good."

Her hand landed on his cheek, thumb stroking. The line on her forehead disappeared, and the glow of love in her eyes was even sweeter than the pain of her bite had been. She grinned. "So... You've got one big hickey on that ear now."

He raised an eyebrow. "Think we could make it symmetrical, at least?"

Kay laughed, warm and breathy. "That can be arranged."

Her mouth returned to him, not only to that other ear, but further, exploring, mapping him. They found another sweet spot — the upper edge of his collarbone, on the left side. She took her time with it, trailing her tongue along every inch, lingering whenever he sighed, gasped, squirmed. "I love this," she mumbled between two kisses, and Seth knew she meant it. Her curiosity — how much she wanted to know him — was almost better than the touches themselves.

Her lips suddenly felt prickly on his skin. She had just moved below his clavicle — into the grey zone, where sensation blurred: a strange, shifting mix of hypersensitivity and numbness. Seth flinched involuntarily. "Different," he mumbled.

Kay lifted her head. "Different good, or different bad?"

"Not sure," he said with a shrug. Then, after a beat: "Do it again."

She gave him a funny look, then bent back down, her breath brushing his shoulder. And… nothing. "I think you're too low now." He smirked.

"Oh," Kay breathed, sheepish. "Oops." She placed one more kiss there anyway — deliberate — then trailed back up. This time, the contact was clearer. A sharp, tingling pull — somewhere between too much and not enough. And then his arm spasmed, dragging his shoulder down. His body slumped left — but Kay was already there, steadying him. "Yeah," she smiled lopsidedly, "you've been in a serious tilt for a while now."

Seth looked down. She was right — his whole posture was off. He smiled sheepishly. "I didn't notice."

Kay tilted her head, amused. "I take that as a good sign."

"You should."

She pushed herself up on her knees and hooked her arms around his shoulders, trying to pull him straighter with a small grunt — to little success. An adorable scowl appeared on her brow, one that made him smile. "Leave it," he said. "It doesn't matter."

Kay raised a teasing eyebrow. "Not sure your body would agree."

"My body doesn't know what it's talking about."

They both laughed. Their eyes met — and held. A long, quiet look passed between them, full of warmth. When Kay spoke again, her voice was softer, quieter. "Look at us," she said with a smile, shaking her head slightly. "We're actually here." 

Seth held her eyes — not searching, just knowing. "Yes," he said softly, nodding. "We are."

She leaned in, hands to his cheeks, and they kissed — long and slow. Both of them lost for more words. Kay settled back on his lap, slinging her arms around his neck, holding him. He buried his nose in the nape of her neck, breathing, resting. 

At some point, she gasped softly, and she pulled back, surprised by something that was beyond his perception. He looked at her quizzically. "What?”

She hesitated, glancing down to where she was straddling him, then shrugged with an awkward smile. “You're hard.”

Ah. Seth blinked. That look of shy excitement on her face right now was both beautiful and scary. He met her eyes. "It's just a reflex."

Kay laughed softly, giving him one of those funny "duh" looks — she knew. Thank god, she knew. And then, holding his gaze, she smirked. "Still nice of him to say hello."

He laughed, amazed at how easy she made this, how she met every uncertain edge with joy. She paused a beat, watching his face, eyes a little bashful. "Mind if I say hello, too?"

He blinked, hating that it took him a beat to answer. "Sure."

"Just hello." Her eyes left his face only briefly — long enough to shift back onto his thighs and tug the sheet down past his hips. His SP catheter came into view, and Seth tried to ignore the tug of shame — reminded himself she’d seen it all before, after the rain. That she just took all of this for what it was. He watched her hook her fingers under the waistband of his boxers and gently tug them down — just far enough. Watched the motion: the slow slide of fabric, the way her knuckles brushed against his skin. What unsettled him was the contrast — that beautiful glow in how she moved, and the pale skin on bone that was his midsection now, catheter tube in the periphery. Seth blinked. Looked at Kay's face. She was smiling to herself quietly — almost mischievously — as she touched him without hesitation, feeling him, her version of 'saying hello', apparently. "Nice," she murmured, her eyes finding his with steady warmth.

He smiled back, releasing a quiet breath he didn't know he'd been holding. His relationship to his dick these days was… none. He couldn't feel it, couldn’t touch it, didn't even pee through it anymore. For the past two years, it had merely existed — no function, no purpose, no meaning other than loss. But now, seeing that quiet, almost affectionate look on Kay’s face as she gave him one last stroke before pulling his boxers back up — he knew it still did have meaning. To her. "I could," he said quietly,  "sometime… try Viagra. If that's something you want."

She looked at him, eyes searching his face. "Yeah," she said after a pause, smile soft and calm. "Sometime, maybe. No rush." And then she moved up to him, kissed his shoulder, slung her arm around chest, snuggling up. Seth closed his eyes, resting his head on hers, letting it all settle. This — this night had really happened. New, hot, tender, and not half as terrifying as he'd pictured it. If they had gone this far just a week earlier, he wouldn't have trusted it — not because of her, but because of all the things that hadn't been said at that point. Now though — he felt the trust. This was true, this was them.

It could have lasted forever — the warm weight of her head in the nape of his neck, her breath soft on his collarbone. He didn't want it to end even when the side of his neck started itching. Or when his shoulder began to cramp up from being in the same position for too long. Whether Kay sensed it or whether she was feeling sticky herself — she put her hand on his cheek. "Wanna clean up a little?"

He smiled lazily, nuzzling into her palm. "Want is too strong a word."

She chuckled. "Well… I need to pee anyway. Badly, actually."

"Fine. But I might need help with the cleaning up part."

Kay kissed his cheek. "Deal. It's my bodily juices you're covered in after all." She pushed herself up with a sigh and untangled her limbs from his — slow, reluctant, like she didn’t really want to move either. Seth watched her as she stood, scanned the floor, then bent to scoop up her panties and his college t-shirt she always slept in. He let his eyes linger — not on her body, but on her. The way she ran a hand through her hair, the way the cotton clung briefly before falling loose again. The way she was moving through his space like she belonged in all of it. His Kay. 

She was only on her way to the door when she paused, hovering, then groaned. "Oh God. What if I run into Brian out there."

Seth chuckled. "Feeling shy?"

She gave him a grimace. "He knows what we did in here. It's awkward."

He rolled his shoulder, trying to loosen it up. "You're not gonna run into him. He’s upstairs."

"How do you know?"

Now he laughed, shaking his head at her. "Because I told him to."

Her eyebrows rose. "Smart."

"I try."

She paused. "But he still knows what we did in here."

He sighed, smirking. "I thought you needed to pee badly."

"Okay okay," she held up her hands. "I’m going."

Once alone, Seth glanced at the clock. He'd asked Brian not to come downstairs before 10.30, and it was almost 10 now. Leaning back more against the pillow, he sighed. He knew it was high time he got shifted and stretched — his shoulder was still cramping, his neck was sore, and his right leg kept trembling like it was connected to a live wire. And he hated it — hated that his body was telling him right now that it didn't care how much more privacy and intimacy he wanted, because it had reached its limits and needed a PCA. And Kay was right: of course this was awkward. Even though he hadn’t explicitly told Brian why he wanted to stay on his back, wait with the splint and keep the first floor off limits for the next few hours — it was obvious, wasn't it. Especially to Brian. Maybe he needed to take this with humor, Seth thought with another sigh. See Brian as his wingman in this. The wingman who does your bowel routine. Ugh.

Kay came back, bringing with her several wet washcloths and a towel. He lifted an eyebrow. "You're taking this seriously."

She smirked. "Always." Her eyes scanned him as she came to the bed. "You're tilting even more."

He snorted softly — shrugging didn't work right now. "Gravity."

"You can't tell me this is still comfortable."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "It's not."

She put the washcloths down and grabbed a cushion from the stack on the armchair. "Will it help if I wedge this against your side to stabilize?"

"Sure," he smiled. "Maybe stuff it under my armpit."

He still didn't like this — being a sack of potatoes under her hands as she braced his side and lifted his spasming arm to fit the cushion under there. Still hated being dead weight, unable to help even a little. It still stung. But — and that was something — it stung a little less today. Maybe at some point, some day, it wouldn't sting at all.

Kay was quiet as she started washing off his hand — the soiled one — finger by finger, gently and focused. He watched her face, tracking the flutter of her lashes, the quiet dance of her freckles when she smiled. "Don't distract me," she murmured with a grin, eyes bashfully flicking up to his face.

"I'm not even doing anything."

She snorted softly. "Yes you are. The thing with your eyes."

He chuckled. "It's called looking."

She put his hand down, teasingly raising an eyebrow. "Which undoes me when you do it. So stop."

He blinked affectionately at her. "I can't do that."

Now she blushed. And leaned in, kissing him. When she pulled back, her eyes were… pondering. She chewed her lip. Fingered her earlobe. Seth knew that look — there was something she was about to ask. He waited. 

"Seth?"

"Yeah?"

She took a small breath. "I want to do your night turn when I sleep here."

Oh. He looked away. That was… unexpected. Then again, it probably wasn't. "Uh," he murmured.

"I know you have this rule of yours," she said. 

He nodded, not meeting her eyes. The rule was there for a reason. He licked his lips, then looked up. "That’s… care territory, Kay."

She tilted her head slightly, brows lifting. "It doesn’t have to be. It can be couple territory."

Couple territory. He imagined it. Played it in his head — Kay getting out of bed at 2 a.m, rolling him, positioning cushions, adjusting his pillow. Checking his urine bag — Seth shook his head. "It's nothing romantic," he said earnestly. "It's work. You’d have to actually wake up. Get up. Check me over…" he trailed off. "You would have to learn what to watch out for." Learn stuff a girlfriend shouldn't have to learn.

Kay nodded, listening, but shifting impatiently. "I know," she said. "I have thought about it."

Of course she had.

"I don’t have any illusions about what it means," she said. "Who knows, I might even curse it sometimes."

He raised an eyebrow. "You definitely would."

She shrugged, holding his gaze. "But it would mean more privacy for us. For me. I mean…"

Seth nodded. He knew what she meant. She was okay with Brian being in the room in the middle of the night — but not that okay. And she hadn’t even stayed over when Greg or Roberta were on shift. She didn’t feel close enough to let them see her like that. He sighed, rolled his shoulder. Searched her gaze. "Just the turn?"

She nodded, a hopeful twitch in one corner of her lips. "Just the turn."

"Nothing more."

Her gaze flickered, just a little. "Yes."

He looked at her for a beat longer, letting it settle. "Okay."

He still wasn’t thrilled — the idea sat uneasily in his chest. But the way Kay’s face lit up — and the kiss that followed — made it worth it. 

"Are you going to show me?" she asked, once she'd pulled back. "Or Brian?"

He chuckled. "Both, probably. Together."

Kay pulled a face. "Daunting."

"You asked for it."

She smiled. "Sure did." Then, picking up the washcloth again, she started cleaning his neck. 

He closed his eyes with a sigh. "Not tonight, though," he mumbled.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she chuckled. 

"Good." Seth smiled, eyes still closed. "Let’s not break the universe all at once."

Kay laughed softly, her voice warm. "Just bit by bit?"

He opened one eye, then the other. Looking at her tenderly. "Yeah. Bit by bit."

To be continued