Mercy (ManxBoy)

30: αяσυѕє∂

Just keep on turning me through the days,

Until the latest chapter unfolds.

S Y K E S:

Okay so I'll admit being shot kind of sucks, but with a little slave like Zaire, it's hard to focus on the suckiness of the situation. He has taken off work to take care of me.

The time in the hospital had, at best, been boring. A lot of people poking me with sharp objects, people poking and prodding my bullet wound, and Zaire crooning over me like a mother hen.

I'd been released the next day, with strict orders from Doctor Shurbeyer to get lots of rest and not to engage in any kind of strenuous activity. I think honestly, the only reason that they let me go was because I was kicking up a fuss like a four year old, going crazy in the small, too clean room. Of course, Zaire had me bed bound, and unable to do anything anyway, but it felt good to be in my own, comfortable bed.

Zaire had been running back and forth for me all day, refusing to let me move a muscle. I tried to tell him I'd be fine, that I needed to move a bit, but he'd not only gave me a look a wet cat would give it's owner, but he looked so worried, I couldn't do it.

I knew I needed to have a back-bone, to be more commanding with him, but he pushed every button I never even knew I had. It's hard to scold someone for caring too much, also.

It was also really hot seeing Zaire running around the house dressed in one of my shirts and a pair of skin tight black briefs. Whenever he bent over, my shirt would slide up a bit and expose the briefs underneath and I'd drool a little bit and long to touch him.

If I wasn't bed-bound, Zaire would be screaming my name so loud the neighbors would know who owned him.

I could tell he was horny, too. He'd been hiding it well, but all night last night he'd tossed and turned, eventually settling into my side. His hard, barely covered cock touched my side, and he'd let out the faintest moan.

Since I'd been hurt we haven't had sex. I mean, I guess that is typical. It's hard to have sex with a bullet wound that could rip open in the middle of it. Zaire may be a masochist, but I certainly am not.

And this whole being shot thing is weighing heavy on my mind. The whole ordeal is troubling, because whoever shot me wasn't aiming at me, they were aiming at Zaire. Zaire, my baby. My lover, my sweet boy. They would've hit him, too, if I hadn't have heard it when I did.

I was glad that I did, because I would take the bullet over and over again for him. He deserves to never feel this kind of pain, ever.

Since it happened, Terrance has been staying with us, sleeping on the couch, his gun right under the cushion. Alexei wasn't here at the moment because of school, but he'd be here in a while. He was probably the most troubled about my getting shot, merely because he didn't understand.

He wasn't equipped to handle losing a family member, not even someone who wasn't a direct parent. When I mentioned that to Zaire, he'd told me that I was a parent to Alexei, even if I wasn't his biological father. He'd comforted me all night last night, telling me that Alexei loves me, and that even when his father gets straightened out, I'll still have a major part of his life.

I knew that, but knowing he wouldn't be here... in our home, where he belongs, made me upset. He is my baby, even if he wasn't produced by me. I knew that if I pressed the issue in court I could have him, no questions asked. My brother wasn't the best parent, and he hadn't had the best track record. I wouldn't do that to Alexei though. He loved his father, even if he's a piece of shit.

"Master?" Zaire called as he walked into my--excuse me, our room. "Are you doing okay?" He asked, coming to stand beside me with a slight smile on his face.