Three for the City

June: Miscommunication

There were certain facts of life Matt tried his damndest not to forget. One of them was added stress tended to do a number on Topher’s brain and provoke migraines. While moving to New York was something he had wanted to do, and he was looking forward to his internship starting in roughly four days, it didn’t take into account all the worrying and stewing his subconscious did over his daily decisions.

So when Topher had declined to eat anything for breakfast and only a small lunch – consisting mainly of a green pepper and a cheese stick – Matt had another symptom to take into account. A drop in appetite from Topher was a clear indication something was wrong, and nine times out of ten it wasn’t because he was coming down with the flu or the stomach bug.

He wasn’t surprised at all when he heard the water in the bathroom kick on when he was changing his shirt to go get some groceries. It turned off, and Matt frowned as he did up the last few buttons, rolling the sleeves to his elbows. He knocked on the partially open door to the bathroom, then stuck his head inside.

Topher eased himself into the tub, left arm held close to his midsection.

“Hey,” Matt said quietly.

He turned his head, blinking slowly at Matt. “Hi. I got one comin’ down the pipes.”

Matt stepped onto the bathroom tile and made his way to Topher, perching carefully on the edge of the tub and mindful of any water spots on his khaki shorts. His hand rested on Topher’s shoulder, fingers searching for – and finding – one of the many knots dotting along the bone and up the left side of the back of his neck. He dug his fingers in, circling them and hoping to ease some of the ache.

Topher let his head hang loosely toward his chest.

“I found a supermarket within walking distance, and I’m gonna get us some more groceries,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief with Topher when the knot disappeared. Matt moved onto the next one, mindful to keep his voice low as he said, “Do you need me to see if I can refill any of your prescriptions?”

Topher rested both his hands in his lap beneath the surface of the water, and while the sight of so much bare skin at Matt’s fingertips would have him thinking very different thoughts, all he could think about then was how miserable Topher would be until the migraine hit. He had to be feeling pretty shitty if he thought it was better to sit in warm water than have it pound along his back, and Matt had to wonder if Topher was already feeling the hit to his balance. It was usually the next thing to go after his appetite. 

“No,” Topher whispered. He brought one hand out of the water to run through his hair, standing the red-brown strands up into spikes.

His fingers found another knot, and he pressed again, circling with his thumb on sensitive skin and firm muscle. “You want me to get some soup for dinner?” He watched Topher’s head nod slowly. “Okay. I’ll be back in a little while and I’ll try to get more knots out.” Matt leaned down, pressing a kiss to Topher’s temple before he stood. Topher had enough of his faculties about him not to accidentally drown himself, and he wouldn’t sit there long enough for the water to get cold.

Cold being a relative term, considering it was a balmy ninety degrees out, and all the windows in the apartment were open in an attempt to get some sort of breeze going.

Matt left the bathroom door open, in case one of the cats happened to wander in and want to perch on the toilet seat, and left a note for Delia on the kitchen counter that he’d gone for groceries. He was still getting used to not having car keys, and he locked the apartment on his way out.

It was quiet when she got back, setting her bags down in the little hallway where they’d decided to put coat hooks and mats for shoes. Stepping out of her heels, Delia headed for the kitchen first, in need of a drink. Matt had left her a note – he’d gone grocery shopping, though he hadn’t noted the time – and she pulled the Brita from the shelf in the fridge.