The snow
was thick, but ten times worse for the wind which roared and pushed from every
feasible direction. It was a relief to say the least to step into the club and
out of the elements. He shook a bit like a dog might, brushing
melting snow from his black coat and hat. The club was nearly silent, and well
lit, two things it was only in the afternoon. He made a visual survey of the
tracks of lights as he headed across the dance floor and up to the stairs and
the office.
“Turbo!” Came a familiar voice, and he found himself caught
and squeezed in a tight hug by one of the club’s two owners. “Ah, you’re all
wet,” he observed, stepping back, flicking his hands to dry them.
“Yes, I
think it’s still snowing out, Nik,” he answered in
his normal sarcastic tone. “Things tend to get wet when it snows.” He backed
off as well, rubbing at his nose. It had been running from the cold, and though
the rest of him seemed to have adjusted all right, his nose was still running a
little. Of course it had been all morning, even without the cold temperatures.
Nik narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Where’sth your sthcarf, Turbo?”
With a shrug and absolutely no intention to talk about that subject,
“Dunno, really.” He gave a strong sniff. “So
who’s up tonight?” He knew of course, but wanted to change the subject.
“That
electronic group…” Nik leaned against his desk,
shuffling around papers to find the schedule.
“The Sex
Tigers,” he said, rolling his eyes. It was always The Sex Tigers, like
clockwork, every time he, well, every time he lost his scarf. Not that he didn’t like The Sex Tigers. On the contrary,
they were always fun. Especially when they brought along
their own dancers. Nik finally found the sheet
and handed it over. It seemed the standard thing, set-up at three o’clock, sound check at seven, opening at eight,
first set at nine, second set at midnight
More lists ran through his head. Lights,
configuration, timings, confetti. He scanned the sets of songs. Yes,
confetti. Lots of confetti. “Looks
good.” He sniffled again, rubbing a bent index finger under his nose.
“I’m going to go grab a coffee and some lunch before they get here to set up.
Want anything?”
Nik shook his head. “Al forcthed sthome lunch on me
before I left, but thank you anyway. Julesth!”
Julia had
just walked in, followed closely by Robert, both of whom had a stack of small
papers, corresponding to their driving charges the night before. Jules and Nik were in discussion, and he took that opportunity to
head out. Robert grabbed him as he passed, looking confused and a bit punchy, the way Robert always looked. “Hey, where’s your scarf,
Turbo?”
He gave
another shrug. “I guess I must have lost it.”
“It’s cold
out there, you know,” Robert said, tilting his head towards the dance floor
though probably meant to be gesturing towards the far door.
“Yeah, I
know,” he replied, pulling his coat closed and slipping his hands into his
pockets. He headed out of the office, backing into the door to open it, headed
back down the stairs, across the dance floor, through the door and out into the
blizzard once again. Weather like this, assuming it kept up through the night,
meant two possible outcomes. One, either there would be a dreadful number of
first-timers coming in off the streets from the cold as sensible clientele
stayed at home. Or two, only the most faithful regulars would show up tonight. He
was silently debating which of the two was more likely and trying to draw
direct relationships with the distance in front of his face he could see his
hand, when he sneezed.
It wasn’t a
regular sneeze, not simply one of those ‘nose running from the cold’ sorts of
sneezes, or one of the ‘just had to sneeze’ variety that you shrug off and not
worry about. No, it was vicious and wet and shook his whole body. It might have
dislodged his scarf if he’d been wearing it. “hehTCHUSHH!” The side of his gloved hand grazed
his nose, wiping roughly. Gladly, he ducked into the coffee shop around the
corner.
“Mornin’ Turbo!” called a young woman from behind the
counter with a streak of pink in her hair and gold hoops dangling from one ear.
“What can I getcha?”
He stamped
his feet on the mat and scrubbed his nose dry. The smell of leather from his
gloves remained in his nostrils for a moment as he readjusted to the warmth. Then
he raised a hand in greeting, appreciating her use of ‘morning’ even though it
was well past two in the afternoon. “I’ll, ah, have the usual with a cup of
cream of mushroom soup also.” Soup was the best medicine for his money. Soup
could fix anything. He pulled out a twenty, and got little back in the way of
change, especially after a whole dollar bill was dropped in the tip jar. The
usual was sealed and double-bagged for extra warmth. Today the bags consisted
of the soup, some oatmeal cookies, and a veggie sandwich with normal lettuce,
tomato and cucumbers but also with spouts and avocado and their special house
sauce. He had an almond mocha as well which he took a few scalding
hot sips from before braving the cold outdoors again. He knew the coffee
clutched in one hand, and probably the soup in the bags in his other, would be cooled by the time he got back to the club,
but it didn’t matter.
Lunch was
unimportant. A few favorable tastes to fill the hunger and prevent him from
collapsing until dinnertime was all lunch was good for.
The coffee was just for comfort, to have something in his hands to keep them
from shaking, to have something to occupy himself as others ran around messing
up his orders. “Honey, I’m home,” he called, entering the club once more to
find the band and their groupies moving in their things. “Your second set’s too
ambitious,” he said, spotting the lead singer. He took a seat at one of the
dozens of empty tables to spread his lunch out. “Cut off the last three songs
and save them for your encore.”
The band
did not seem too happy about that call. “Look. We were trying for—“
“Cut off
the last three songs,” he stated again. “Save them for your encore.” And he
took a sip of warm coffee. He would not budge on the matter, even if he’d felt
in a less stubborn mood. While the band set up, he started his food, nursing
the soup slowly, but throwing the end of the sandwich away uneaten from his
fullness. He had told himself not to eat the cookies during the meal but he
rarely listened to his own advice in such matters.
The door
opened with a burst of cold air, and in walked Dominic. “It’s a little early
for you to be here, isn’t it?” he asked the man who was still brushing snow off
himself. With a check to his watch, he confirmed that it was only a bit after
three.
“I guess
so. I had the brilliant idea of getting the taxes done early this year. You
know Nik’s crap with numbers. So I just wanted to
come in for some… papers…” he paused, looking down at the man. “Turbo, where’s
your scarf?”
With a
shrug, and his head turned back down towards the coffee, which remained of his
lunch. “I must have misplaced it. I’m sure it will turn up.” He moved his cup
around in a circle, mixing the contents, looking thoughtful, hoping his message
would be interpreted properly.
“But, it’s
your scarf. You’re never without it, unless—“
He looked
up, narrowing his eyes. “Drop it, Sweetie. It’s just a scarf.” At that moment,
the tickle in his nose acted up again. Quickly, he turned and cupped one hand
over nose and mouth. “huhTUCHHH!”
Dominic’s
eyes showed only concern. “You coming down with
something?” He bent over, and instead of feeling the man’s forehead, pressed
his cheek to forehead instead. His hand gently stroked the back of the man’s
neck. “You’re warm.” He readjusted the man’s beret as he pulled back and straightened.
Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small jar, tapped two pills out
into his palm, and handed them over.
“What—“
“Aspirin,”
Dominic said with a smile, turning the bottle so it could be read. “I’ve had a
headache all morning thanks to these damn taxes.” He pushed his hand closer.
“Go on, take ‘em.”
He accepted
them hesitantly, but popped them in and ushered them down with a gulp of cold
coffee. “Thanks, Sweetie.” He sniffled, trying desperately to change the
subject. “How, uh, how is Jamie?”
Dominic’s
face broke into a wide grin. The sort of grin one gives when a thought is so
amazingly pleasing that the emotion cannot be contained and the grin has no
choice but to show. “Tired out.”
He coughed
with a surprise laugh. “Is he coming tonight?” Immediately he knew he should
have rethought the phrasing of that one. He was never at the top of his game
without his scarf, though, so it wasn’t too surprising.
“Morning, noon and,” joked Dominic crudely. “But yeah, you’ll
see him tonight at the club. It’s damn cold out, but he’ll be here.” Then,
thoughtfully, “Is Nik expecting a small crowd?”
“Dunno.” There was a loud noise from the performance area
and Dominic rose. “I’d better go look after them. Thanks, uh, for the,” he
gestured loosely towards his head and Dominic gave a nod. Taking his coffee
along, he headed over to talk with the band about the setup and to coordinate
the dancers’ positions.
He was
starting to feel worse as the afternoon slowly progressed. By the time he had
finished mapping out the dancer stations and revised the list of things to do
for the twentieth time, he was feeling miserable. Shivering in his tight black
turtleneck as he walked around testing the lights, he sneezed again. It was
just as forceful as before, but he shook a little more at it. “huhTUHSHHHHH!” Rubbing at his nose, he ducked into
the bathroom. The bathroom that was used as a bathroom, as
opposed to the bathroom which had other uses. After going through a few
handfuls of toilet paper, he emerged, looking beat.
“Turbo!” Dominic spotted him and called him over with a
wave. He headed over, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to look more
awake. It was only four and the day had only just begun. Dominic sighed and
drew him into an unexpected hug, rubbing one hand up and down the back of his
head. Fingers digging into the shoulder-length brown hair. “I want you to go
home and have a rest.”
He shook
his head. That wasn’t possible. “I have a whole list of things to do…” he
sniffled wetly, wishing he’d brought a few squares of toilet paper back with
him to keep his nose from running.
Dominic
gently eased the list out of his hand. “I’ll take care of it. You go home and
take care of yourself.” He broke the hug to walk over and collect the man’s
gloves and jacket for him.
Robert came
through the back door, keys jingling in his hand. “Hey,
Sweetie. Is he coming or what?”
“He’s
coming,” Dominic called back with a smile. Then, risking being labeled as
making two bad, similar sexual jokes in one afternoon, added, “Didn’t know you
were the impatient type when it came to coming, Robert.” Turning back, he
pulled off his own scarf and wrapped it around the man’s neck. Against an outfit
which was all black, the lime green and sky blue striped scarf stood out strongly.
Kindly, “You needed a splash of color now and again. Especially
as your face is so pale. Have a rest, and you’ll feel much better when
you get back tonight.”
He thought
of protesting, but it seemed Dominic had trapped him well. And the warmth the scarf
brought was more than welcomed. “Thanks, Sweetie,” he said, with another light
sniffle and a rub at his nose. He gestured towards the list on the table. “Call
me if you need clarification… it needs to be followed to the letter…”
“I’ve got
it,” Dominic laughed, pushing him towards the door.
“Maybe I
should just stay. What if something happens—”
Dominic
turned him around and grabbed his shoulders firmly. When he spoke, his voice
was soft but commanding. “Look. I know you try to play the brooding artist,
especially when you get sick, but I know better. From
experience. You just want someone to take care of you. You need to get a
boy, Turbo.”
A shrug
neither denied nor corroborated this. But a pitiful sniff from his runny nose
fell on the side of corroboration. He would absolutely never admit it, however.
Offering
over a tissue, Dominic continued, “And since you’re alone at present, I’m
stepping up and making sure you get home all right to take it easy for a few
hours at least. So I’ll see you back here around seven-thirty?”
He nodded
in confirmation and headed out into the cold with Robert holding the door open
for him. It was only a short walk over to one of the limousines, and he was
very thankful that the heater worked so well. It blasted warm air as Robert
started the car up, looking over at the passenger seat. “You still cold?” he
asked as his passenger vigorously rubbed his hands together.
With
another nod, “I’ll warm up, though.”
“Doubtful,”
Robert replied, still watching him. “Sweetie said you weren’t feeling very
well.”
He rolled
his eyes. “Does the whole damn club have to know when I come down with a case
of the sneezes?”
“Yup,” Robert
said with a smile, watching the man’s nose twitch. “We plan on inviting some
columnists over to do a story on it, and maybe buy some time to announce it on
the top porno sites. We want to make sure everyone hears that you’ve come down
with a widdle cold in your nosey.” He directed a
punch into the man’s arm. Then he softened with rarely-displayed sympathy. “Tissues
are in the glove compartment.”
Though he
rolled his eyes, he still went for them, taking out a few and rubbing his nose.
It wasn’t long into the drive before he needed to use them, and they were
certainly preferable to toilet paper. “huhTCHH! hihTCHHH!”
He sighed and blew his nose a little, looking at Robert out of the corner of
his eye. “What?” he asked to Robert’s snide smirk. Self-consciously he began
playing with the end of Dominic’s scarf, braiding the little tassels, twisting
them, smoothing them out straight again.
“Oh,
nothing,” he said with a grin as they turned onto the right street. “Just
wondering which one of your many tricks might have given you that cold.” This
elicited another eye roll. Shortly after, the limo was double parked outside
the apartment building. “I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty?”
He nodded
and quickly left the limo before he was forced to endure any further insulting
jokes. His apartment was on the fourth floor, and he was out of breath by the
time he had made it to level two. He was nearly crawling up the final set of
stairs before staggering in to his place.
It was
sparse and simple, but with a minimalist style. He had contributed to the décor
in more ways than simply buying pieces. The few pieces of art on the walls were
his creations, the pottery on the top of the bookshelf was his and he had a few
books in it as well. But he walked past all that this time, straight into the
bedroom. He stripped off his coat and the scarf that wasn’t his. Off with the
gloves and the black shoes. Down with the navy blue comforter
and sheets. And within seconds he was warm and comfortable in bed. Well,
close to comfortable. The damned tickle in his nose saw to that.
“huh…huh-TUCHHH! hihTUTCHHH!” The tissue box beside his bed was
nearly empty from such frequent use. He took one of the tissues and buried his
nose in it miserably. Then he pulled the covers up over his head and closed his
eyes. Remarkably, thanks to fatigue and a touch of depression, he fell asleep
easily.
But he
found himself being shaken awake not long after. He pushed away the covers,
emerging from beneath them, finding what was once warm to now be stiflingly
hot. Robert was at the side of his bed, his arm outstretched. With a groan, “It
can’t be seven-thirty already.”
“It’s not,”
Robert replied, pulling the blankets down. “It’s seven-forty.”
Comprehension
dawned on his face. “Sev… shit!” There was no time to
change. He pulled on his things, stuffed the few remaining tissues he had into
his pocket, and followed Robert out to the car at a jog, leaving behind the
scarf that wasn’t his.
He nearly
rolled out of the limousine before it came to a complete stop, and darted into
the club through the side door, Robert’s laughter following him in. He was
accosted by both Nik and Dominic upon entering, and
they forced a clipboard, headset, and coffee at him. There were three minutes
until the start, according to his watch. The crowd was sparse but excited.
He started
to adjust the headset, when he felt another sneeze coming on. He managed to
hold everything with one hand as he fell back against the wall and pulled a
tissue from his pocket. “heh… huh-TSHHH! huh-TUCHHHH! UHSHHH!” He sniffled into the tissue and
waited for his head to stop pounding from the force of it all before
recomposing himself.
He sniffed
hard to clear his nose and began talking. “Corey? You and the other Tigers
ready?” Briefly listening to the affirmation, he then raised his eyes to
Dominic. “Lights set for the entrance? Sound check went all right? Dancers in place?”
“Everything’s
fine, Turbo,” Dominic assured him, gesturing towards the list. “Everything’s taken
care of.”
That, of
course, remained to be seen. He made sure the headset was on with a tap to it. But
he nodded and waved his hand. “All right then. Everyone take
your spots… cue the lights… and…” Everything worked with a routine that had
been perfected over a half dozen years, and yet seemed as fresh and new as
though it had been the first time. The crowd seemed to eat it up, dancing madly
in time to the beats. He knew it wouldn’t be long until the magic of the music
died down for the middle of the set and the patrons began hitting on the
dancers or going for drinks at the bar. But right now, right at the beginning, things
were magical. Strobe lights flashed across the dance floor while multi-colored
ones blinked across the band, making the whole place light up with smiles and
twinkles in eyes and every form of anticipation seemed born again just because
the band was starting to play.
He was
halfway up the stairs, leaning on the railing beside one of the club’s
enforcer’s. He sighed and looked it all over, once in a while barking cues to
the others over the headset. Much of it was computerized now, and there wasn’t
need to direct as constantly as there once had been. But it was hard not to
want to make it as perfect as it could be. “Now everyone’s set for the second
number?” he asked, pressing his hand to the earpiece to be able to hear the
answer more clearly.
“All set. No
need to worry, Turbo,” came the staticy
reply on the headset.
With a
smile, he nodded. “Good. Just give me a buzz if you need something. And don’t
mind if I suddenly sneeze. I think I’ve come down with a cold.”
There was a
laugh, “Yeah, we heard.” He looked across the room, craning his neck to look at
the sound station. Squinting, he could make out his chief technician waving at
him, then pointing towards Dominic.
“I should
have known,” he groaned. He exchanged a humorous look with the security guard
and clapped him on the back as he made his way up to Nik’s
office to check out things on the monitors. Nik’s
office was dark, and probably so for a reason. There was a large one-way mirror
and a set of monitors showing every inch of the club. And on the couch lay Nick
and some half-dressed man who was one of the club’s regulars. “Don’t mind me,”
he said, averting his eyes and crossing over to examine the monitors.
Everything seemed to pretty much be in order throughout the club. The music and
lights were wonderfully in synch. The dancers were gyrating in strategically
placed positions on platforms around the floor.
“Nah, I’m sthorry,” Nik said, giving the
man a hard kiss then sitting up. “Turbo, have you met Blue Eyes here?”
He smiled
and gave a wave. “I’ve seen you around the club a few times.”
“Yeah,
yeah,” the man said. He sat up and pulled his shirt back down as Nik buttoned his fly for him. “I think I’ve seen you, too.”
He tucked his shirt into his jeans. “Where’s your scarf?”
He rolled
his eyes, sniffling. Even complete strangers noticed. “Lost it,” he muttered.
He set his coffee and clipboard down on Nik’s desk
and pulled a tissue out from the box there. “heh-huh-TSCHHH! Huh-TSHUHH!”
“You look
beat,” Nik said. He scooted over beside Blue Eyes and
patted the spot on the couch beside him. “Come on, sthit
down and relaxth a little while.”
Shaking his
head, “The moment I sit down and rest I’ll fall asleep again. I need to keep
working.” Even as he said it, his body complained to him, telling him to lie
down on the couch. Nik would cover him with a blanket
and pet his head and the show would go on without him. He could lie there
feeling miserable and bemoaning his own stupidity. But he didn’t want that. He
wanted to do his job. If he’d wanted to shirk responsibilities he would have
stayed in bed when Robert came to pick him up.
So,
instead, he studied the monitors. Everyone seemed to be having a good time,
even if the place was a bit busier than normal. The Sex Tigers went from one
song to the other seamlessly and even he had nothing to complain about where
the sound and the lights were concerned. He found his eyes drawn to the dancers
more often than anything else, watching the muscular, godlike bodies moving in
time to the beats.
Now that Nik’s private time had been ruined, one of the security
guards joined them in the office. He nodded to them both then watched the
monitors closely for anything suspicious. Meanwhile Nik
straightened up the couch. The guard, whose name currently escaped memory, let
his gaze stray from the monitors to the man beside him. “Hey, aren’t you
usually wearing a scarf?”
“Nothing
gets by you, does it?” Then, chuckling, “Except maybe for
that chicken at three
o’clock.”
The guard
looked over. “What? Where?”
He pointed
at the right-hand monitor. “Right there.”
The guard
leaned in for a closer look. “You think so? Doesn’t look so
young to me.” He had the tone of someone who didn’t like being told how
to do his job, but also someone relieved that something like this hadn’t gone
unnoticed. The club’s clientele were strictly scrutinized.
Nodding, “Absolutely. Looks nervous, too.
He could probably use some watching.” It was too cold to turn him out into the
snow for just being there, but it wouldn’t do to have a hawk swoop down and
grab at him, either. If he felt better, he’d have intervened on the kid’s
behalf, but his head was swimming, his body was aching, and his nose was
tickling. Much as he needed to keep busy, he wouldn’t have minded someone
swooping in to take care of him right about now.
Nik, who’d crossed over and was watching the monitors too,
placed one arm around each set of shoulders. “I’ll take care of him. I think
Rich isth on the floor. He’sth good at thisth
sthort of thing.” Nik
hurried over to his desk to make a call down to security on the dance floor.
“hehh-TCHHHH! Huhh-TCHUHH!” Rubbing
his nose and shaking his head, he repeated to himself that he needed to stay
busy. Even if he did feel miserable, he still felt restless. “I think I’ll go
make the rounds downstairs.”
“Sure
Turbo,” the guard said, scanning the floor again but keeping an eye on the
previously identified young man just in case.
Being back
down on the floor felt slightly better than standing
in Nik’s stuffy office, even if it meant people
seeing him sniffling or looking at him funny. He stood alone towards the back
of the club, making sure his headset was off every time he felt another sneeze
brewing. The Sex Tigers were doing a phenomenal job and when the glittery confetti
was released over the main portion of the dance floor, the crowd reacted with
delight. Wishing something would go wrong- even something miniscule- just so
that he was needed, he was mildly disappointed when everything went on without
a hitch. Looked like they really could all get it together
without him there.
Suddenly he
felt something wrap around his neck from behind and pull him back a step. It
felt familiar. He looked down to see his own thick, black, cashmere scarf
wrapped around his neck. He bent his head and nuzzled his cheek against it
affectionately. Then he cast a glance over his shoulder and lips caught his
cheek in a kiss before he could pull away. They took a few more steps back,
finding a dark patch of wall where, even with the hundreds of dancing men about
them, they could feel as though they were alone with each other. After the
headset was slipped off, they really were cut off from everyone else.
“You look
surprised to see me, Timothy. You didn’t expect me to return your scarf?”
A sheepish
smile and an innocent shrug followed. He looked up into the tall blond man’s
deep blue eyes. “Honestly, no, Rupe.”
He couldn’t even count how many scarves he’d lost in this manner.
“You
thought it would take me longer to escape, then? I admit you tied me pretty
tightly to the headboard with your scarf but not that tightly.” Then Rupert
tightened his own grip on the scarf around Timothy’s neck, causing the man to
cough. “Certainly nothing I wasn’t begging for, after all.”
Timothy
gave another shrug as the scarf loosened again. “Well, there’s begging and
there’s begging…”
“Not with
me,” Rupert said, shaking his bright, blond-haired head. “When I say I don’t
mind, I really don’t mind. When I say I want it harder, I really want it
harder. And when I say I enjoyed myself, I mean I enjoyed it. In fact, I mean
that I want to do it again. All of
it.”
He moved in
for another kiss, but Timothy put a hand in between the two faces. “Wait,” he
said. “I’ve come down with a cold.” He gave a nervous laugh. In the past, the
few men who were all right with his thing for bondage usually never made it
past his colds. And he really did seem to catch a cold practically the day
after. It was as though his body wanted to test all the potentials out
properly. He looked critically at Rupert, gauging his reaction.
“What are
you doing here, then? Shouldn’t you be at home resting?” He did not look
disgusted this time either. He looked concerned.
In his
hand, a voice spoke on the headset. Timothy nodded towards it. “I’ve got a job
to do. Can’t exactly make it on my art alone like some
people.”
Rupert
leaned even closer. “You know what one of the best things about being an artist
is?”
Up to that
point, the adrenaline had prevented him from sneezing. But now the need was
back. He raised his arm and buried his nose into the crook. “hehhh-Shooff! Huh-Shuhffff!” Then he shook his head,
sniffling, and noticed the man still had not fled.
Instead, he
was grinning. And moving closer. Too close. Timothy
pushed in protest but Rupert would not be denied. Lips met lips in reassurance
and passion. When Rupert pulled back, he still wore the grin. “One of the best
things is being able to take days off without losing money or calling into
work. So I can take sick days any time I like when I don’t feel just right or
when someone I care about needs a little extra care and attention from me.”
With a sniff, weakly, “Rupe…”
Shaking his
head and grinning, Rupert would not be denied. “We’ve known each other for
weeks and I haven’t been scared away yet. And I know it’s not exactly in your
nature to relinquish your control. But give it up, Timothy. Just let me take
you away from here and care for you.” He waited a beat then, “Yeah?”
With a deep
breath, and a glance towards the stage where The Sex Tigers were still
performing flawlessly, he finally nodded. A few more sneezes delayed his verbal
agreement, however. “hehTShhh! hehh-TShooo! ehh-TSHHH! Sniff! Yeah.
Just give me a minute to tell them I’m taking off.”
Rupert
grabbed the headset and switched it on. “Hey, anybody listening?”
There was a moment of static, during which Timothy silently protested its use.
He hit Rupert’s arm, but Rupert only smiled and licked his lips to indicate he
liked it. Finally there was an answer and Rupert continued. “Great. Well, Ti—”
“Turbo!” Timothy hissed in reminder. Nik’s
nicknames were admittedly confusing to newcomers to their circle.
Quickly
correcting himself, “Turbo’s not feeling well and is
heading home for the rest of the night. Is that all right or will things fall
to pieces without him here?”
Timothy
recognized Dominic’s voice on the other end of the headset, even at a distance.
“Tell him to take a couple days and we hope he feels better. And tell him we’re
glad he found his scarf. He’ll need it. The snow is really coming down out
there.”
Rupert
wrapped his arms around Timothy from the side and held the man close, acting as
another layer against the snow. And Timothy found himself leaning into Rupert
and letting himself go.