Gavin didn't do well with his next round of chemo. He was sicker than before and didn't eat for two days. Zeke cancelled all his appointments to take care of him.
It took everything he had to get his homework done. Even video conferencing with his teacher didn't help. The older man even said he looked awful. Gavin could only smile helplessly.
He'd been wearing beanies since he'd shaved his head and he was always cold. Zeke kept blankets all over the house. The main living room, the formal living room, the dining room, his office, everywhere. It was easier to grab it out of the closet or off the side table than to trek all the way upstairs to grab one.
Zeke sat on his leather couch in his office reading emails on his tablet. Gavin lay atop him with a blanket, his head tucked under his chin. The older man stroked his back soothingly as he slept peacefully for the first time in several days. His body hurt, and his depression was very bad. He hadn't left Zeke's side for very long, usually just to go to the bathroom and the kitchen.
They were supposed to have a get together with Gavin's friends, but Zeke was thinking of cancelling. Gavin wasn't feeling well, and it was difficult for him to move. He had to be careful with what he ate because certain foods irritated his stomach. They had found some foods were irritants and hindered his healing instead of helping it.
Dairy was not his friend. He had drunk one of the protein drinks and it had immediately come back up. So Zeke had switched from pre-made protein drinks to making their own. He had bought oat milk and almond milk to mix with the powder. Gavin liked the chocolate best so Mrs. Morgan alternated between peanut butter and banana.
Sometimes she mixed them all together. Gavin could hold them down better now, and some days it was the only thing he could eat.
Gavin stirred and pushed himself up. Zeke watched him get up and go to the bathroom attached to the office. He listened intently to see if there was any illness. When he heard the toilet flush, he was satisfied that nothing had happened. After washing his hands, Gavin returned and took up his spot on the couch again.
Zeke watched his beanie-clad head land on his shoulder. He felt his breath puff against his neck as he settled back. He pulled the blanket up around his waist to keep him warm.
"I'm so freaking tired," he said. Zeke rubbed his head through the soft cap. "I just want to give up. This is torture."
"You're not giving up," Zeke ordered. "You have two more treatments then you'll have another scan. We can go from there, but at least give these next two treatments a chance."
"I know. I just feel like shit."
Zeke took his chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting his head up, he kissed Gavin gently. Gavin responded, kissing him back slowly. Zeke smiled into it. He loved it when Gavin took the initiative. It made him feel like they were on the way to a deeper relationship.
Gavin kissed his cheek and lay back down. He wrapped his arm around Zeke's waist and sighed. Zeke wasn't sure if it was out of contentment or from something else.
"Zeke?" he whispered.
"Hmm?" the older man hummed.
"Do you miss it?"
Zeke turned his head to look at him. He went crosseyed for a minute. "Miss what?"
"Sex?"
"All the time, but you don't need me to pressure you. Not right now." Gavin popped his chest roughly. "What?"
"Whenever I told you no because I was tired or I didn't feel well, you always said, 'You promised to give me whatever I wanted.' How is this different?"
Zeke closed his tablet and set it on the table behind his head. "I admit I was wrong doing all those things. But this time you have had chemicals pumped into your body to kill a disease. I wouldn't feel right doing anything." Gavin made a face. "What?"
He didn't get a verbal answer as the young man slipped down his body. He knew what was going to do. He didn't stop him even though he thought he would wear himself out.
Gavin unzipped his jeans and pulled them down as far as he could. Zeke pushed up so he could move them even further. He took his flaccid dick in his hand and stroked him gently. Zeke felt himself react, and he lay his head back on the arm to see what he would do.
He had never forced him to give him a blow job before. He had mentioned he liked it and said he'd like for Gavin to try, but he had never forced him to do it. For him to willingly give one even though he was sick meant he truly liked Zeke.
"Do you miss being intimate more now that we can't do anything as much as we used to?" he asked.
Gavin's brow eyes widened a bit at the question. His hand never faltered, but he thought seriously about it. "I'm not sure if miss is the right word. Maybe curious as to why we stopped."
"I didn't want to wear you out on days you were already worn out." His head hit the arm of the couch when Gavin's mouth closed around the tip. "Shit."
Gavin smiled around him and slowly bobbed his head. The warm, moist heat felt good surrounding him. It wasn't as good as when he was sheathed inside him, but it was a close second.
"Breathe through your nose," Zeke advised.
He felt the change when Gavin took his critique, and his lower body began to convulse. They hadn't had sex since the first night Gavin got sick so he was a little pent up. He gripped the base of Gavin's neck and felt him move as his stomach fluttered. He pulled his head up as he came all over himself. He didn't want Gavin to swallow because he didn't want to upset his stomach. He couldn't take the risk.
Gavin turned his head and kissed the inside of his wrist. He sat up and reached for the tissues behind him. He carefully cleaned Zeke up then tossed them in the garbage.
"Sorry I couldn't do more," he apologized.
Zeke lifted his hands in shock. "Why the hell are you apologizing? I wasn't even going to touch you and you do this. Don't apologize."
"I wanted to do something for you."
The older man laughed, covering his eyes flabbergasted. "Gavin, you could have borrowed my card to buy me something. You didn't have to blow me."
Gavin didn't answer. Zeke lowered his arm to look at him. He was looking down at his hands as he picked at his fingers. His face was drawn in sadness. He realized a little too late he had hurt his feelings. It had taken a lot for him to give him a blow job, and he had ruined it by opening his mouth.
He sat up and covered himself. Then he reached up and rubbed his face with his hands. Gavin looked up at him, his eyes darting away almost immediately.
"You did good, Gavin," he whispered. "You didn't have to, but you did good. I wasn't expecting it, but it was great."
"I just wanted to do something for you," he said. "You've done so much for me the last few weeks, but I don't have anything to give back to you."
Zeke saw his sincerity even if he thought it was a little skewed. He didn't ask to be sick. He didn't ask to have to go to the clinic several times a month to fight a disease that even the doctor's had classified as an older person's disease. He took his diagnosis with a strength only Gavin could muster, and he did what was recommended. He did what he was supposed to do and tried to have a good outlook on life.
"What do you want to eat?" Zeke asked.
Gavin looked at him, frowning deeply. "I'll have Mrs. Morgan make you anything you want." The other man shook his head. "You don't want anything to eat or you don't want her to make it?"
"Neither," he said.
Zeke tilted his head to the side as he frowned. Gavin stood and pushed his sweats off his legs. The older man swallowed, gulping hard at the sight before him. He knew the chemo could make someone's sex drive wane, but right now Gavin was standing at full attention. He was embarrassed, and he fought every instinct in him that told him to cover himself from view.
The older man reached for him, pulling him gently to him by his hips. Gavin looked down at him as he put his hands on his shoulders. Zeke knew what he wanted, and he had asked in the cutest, non-asking way possible. What he couldn't say was once Gavin did this absolutely willingly like he was, there was no way Zeke was going to ever let him go.
He met Gavin's gaze as he closed his mouth around Gavin's erection. The younger man's fingers dug into his shoulders as he held himself up. Zeke wrapped his arms around his waist to try to stabilize him. He was still weak from his treatment and he didn't want to overwork him.
His mouth moved on its own accord. He savored the silkiness over Gavin's steaming erection. He hadn't sucked him off in a very long time. Usually he sheathed himself in Gavin's warm heat, and that was heaven to him. But this was better because he was pleasuring Gavin without anything in return.
He sucked on the tip for a while, running his tongue over the slit languidly. Gavin's fingers tightened his hair as he held on for dear life. He slapped Zeke's back several times in warning, but the older man didn't heed it. He tightened his mouth just as salty fluid gushed over his tongue. Gavin gasped as his body quaked.
Zeke pulled back just as his knees gave out. He caught Gavin against him, turning his body slightly so he fell to the couch instead of hitting his head on the wall. He shifted him until he was laying fully on the couch then pulled his sweats back up his body. He stood and pulled his own up before he started for the door. Gavin caught his hand.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
Zeke twisted his hand until he held it gently. He ran his fingers over the back of his hand, smoothing the distended veins as best as he could. "I'm going to get us something to eat. And you're not going to argue."
Gavin nodded and dropped his hand. He pulled the blanket over his legs and lay back down. Zeke left the room, pulling the door behind him. He was content. Not because of what had just happened, but because he was finally understanding what Gavin was feeling.
He wasn't just grateful to have someone who cared about him. He was happy someone actually cherished him. He was becoming so comfortable that he was willing to become someone Zeke couldn't live without. Whether he knew it or not, Gavin was someone Zeke couldn't see himself losing. He wanted the younger man to stay as long as he wished.
If he was honest, he didn't want him to leave. Somehow in the last year, the twenty-two year old had become irreplaceable to him. If Gaving left, he would be heartbroken.