“I just told you. You’re bleeding.”
The door into the house opened and Tohr leaned out. “Everybody okay in here?”
“No—”
“Yes—” Blay batted Qhuinn’s nurse routine away from his face. “Did anyone get hurt upstairs?”
“No, the second-floor sitting room was empty,” Tohr replied. “We’re boarding up the hole and closing the daytime shutters right now. Hey, do you want me to get Doc Jane for that wound?”
Blay glared at his mate and spoke deliberately. “No, thank you. We’re not going to bother a doctor about a scratch that is going to heal within the hour—”
“We need to check him out right now,” Qhuinn said. “Maybe get a gurney?”
“Are you even kidding me?” Blay rubbed the side of his face to prove he was fine—until the scratch started protesting the attention. Keeping a grimace to himself, he announced, “I am very sure I’m not bleeding out, and someone else might need something.”
Tohr smiled. “How about you guys check in later at the clinic if it looks like things are not resolving on their own with the injury?”
As the Brother gave them a little wave and disappeared back into the house, Qhuinn walked around in a tight circle.
“I’d just feel better if someone looked at it. You know, to be sure…” He let the sentence fade out as he blew into his cupped hands.
The helpless look in those mismatched eyes was such a surprise. Especially because what was going on was on a shaving-nick level.
Blay went over and put a hand on Qhuinn’s shoulder. “You know I’m fine. Come on, a minor scratch is nothing compared to you getting stabbed last night—”
“But you’re who matters. Not me.”
There was the temptation to laugh… until Blay realized the male was serious. With a frown, he shook his head. “I don’t understand that statement at all. You are a father, a hellren, a Brother. You are everything—”
?
??None of it matters without you.”
Blay just stood there and blinked. The bleak tone was not normal at all.
“Qhuinn, you know I’m not going anywhere.” He pulled his male in close. “I’m right here and going nowhere.”
The shudder that went through his beloved was the kind of thing that easily translated from one body to the other. And was another testament to something Blay couldn’t quite understand.
“I wish you could promise me that.”
Blay pulled back at the whispered words. “What are you saying? You don’t trust me?”
“It’s the world I don’t trust.” Qhuinn brought the bandana back up, and dab-dab-dabbed at the cut. “I worry about gunshots and knives and car crashes and—”
“Let’s stop that list. Your point is taken.”
Qhuinn glared over at the tarp. “I didn’t even know I had to be concerned about fucking fountain covers.”
Okay, time for a redirection of all this, Blay decided. “Let’s go inside. See if we can help with that window.”
“Yeah.” Qhuinn put an arm around Blay’s waist as they started walking toward the door into the back hall. “Lean on me if you need to. Like if you feel dizzy or weak.”
“You’re trying to make me laugh.”
“And get you against me.”
“I’m all yours.”