Roommates With Benefits [BL]

I hardly got any sleep that night. Honestly, calling it sleep would be quite generous.

Most of the night was spent lying next to Damien, eyes shut, pretending to rest while my mind ran a marathon, racing through every possible disaster.

Just when I started to drift off, another worry would yank me back to reality. What if something went wrong during the surgery? What if the transplant didn’t succeed? What if his body rejected the organ like the doctor said it might? What if—

At one point, I had to physically tell myself to cut it out because I was starting to feel like the most pessimistic fortune cookie ever. What if everything goes horribly wrong? Shit...

Damien, on the other hand, had somehow managed to sleep through most of the night.

I really didn’t get how he could stay so calm while I felt like I was about to explode.

The alarm finally went off, and I lay there staring at the ceiling for what seemed like ages before it hit me why we’d set it.

Today was the day...my stomach twisted, and I seriously considered faking an illness just to avoid the hospital.

But then I remembered, it was my dad who was having surgery, and there was no way I could call to say,

Sorry, I can’t make it to today’s fuck ass nerve-wracking medical event because I suddenly want to crawl back under my covers.

So I dragged myself out of bed. Damien was already up, sitting on the edge of the bed, calmly putting on his watch, his calm demeanor somehow annoyed me even more, as if he was mocking my complete freak-out.

I shot him a look. ”How are you so calm?”

He glanced at me. ”I’m not.”

”You sure look calm, buddy.”

”I’m just better at hiding it.”

I narrowed my eyes. ”Show me your panic.”

”No.”

”C’mon, just a little?”

He shot me a look that said no, I sighed. ”Fine. Keep your dumb secrets.”

He stood up, walked over, and adjusted his shirt sleeve before grabbing my jacket off the chair where I’d tossed it three days ago. ”You’re going to forget this.”

”I wasn’t going to forget it.”

”You totally were.”

”I’d remember eventually!”

”After leaving without it.”

I opened my mouth to argue but realized he was probably right, and I hated that. He handed me the jacket, and I slipped it on before looking at him again.

”You know, if I pass out at the hospital, you’re carrying me.”

”I know.”

”And if I start screaming—”

”I know.”

”And if I burst into tears—”

”I know.”

”And if I become unbearable—”

He gave me a slight smirk. ”You’re already unbearable.”

I just stared at him. ”Wow.”

He leaned down, kissed my forehead briefly, and somehow that little gesture grounded me more than all his previous reassurances. ”Come on.”

That simple act did wonders for my nerves. I followed him out the door, and the drive to the hospital felt way too short.

I spent most of the ride staring out the window, watching people go about their mornings like today was just any regular day.

Cars whizzed by, people rushed along sidewalks with their coffees and a jogger passed by in shorts despite the chilly weather, which frankly seemed like a pretty questionable choice, but I didn’t have the energy to fully wrap my mind around that at the moment.

Meanwhile, my dad was about to have a liver transplant. Everything felt way too normal.

When we got to the hospital, Damien parked and was at my side before I could even open the door, holding it for me like the situation wasn’t already making my hands shake.

I didn’t say anything; I just followed him inside.

The familiar hospital smell hit me right away, and I hated it. I hated the harsh lights, the polished floors, and the quiet beeping from rooms I couldn’t see.

Most of all, I hated that I knew this place well enough to navigate to my dad’s room, knowledge no one should ever have to gain.

We checked in, talked to the nurses, and eventually headed towards the surgical wing.

The closer we got, the heavier my chest felt, like gravity had decided to pile on the stress. Damien’s hand pressed lightly against my back as we walked.

He didn’t say a word, and honestly, he didn’t need to.

Some of the nurses as usual looked at us with fond smiles, and I wondered if they knew we weren’t even official lovers.

Well we probably would have been, if it weren’t for this whole thing coming up.

And although I really wanted to tell him how I truly felt now, I didn’t want it to seem like the only reason I was doing this was because he was the one funding my dad’s operation.

I knew he’d never think that, but still. I wanted my confession to come at the right time.

When the surgery was a success and my dad was finally doing okay with his brand new organ, I promised myself that I’d take Damien out to a nice date. And ask him to be my boyfriend again.

This time I would switch my phone off untill I was done bearing my heart to him.

Finally, we got to see Dad before they took him in. The moment I stepped into the room, it felt like my breath caught in my throat.

Frank looked exhausted. He was lying in the hospital bed, a blanket covering him, an IV in his arm, and several monitors around him. His face seemed even thinner than the last time I saw him, and seeing him like this twisted something painful in my chest.

Then he opened his eyes, looked at me, and smiled. ”Look who finally decided to drop by.”

I swallowed hard. ”Yeah, sorry. Traffic.”

He chuckled softly, though it sounded weak. ”You look terrible, did you even sleep at all like I told you to?”

I shot him a look. ”Wow, good morning to you too, dad.”

”You look like you haven’t slept a wink.”

”I haven’t.”

”Yeah, I can tell.”

I pulled up a chair closer to his bed, the legs scraping softly on the floor. Damien kept a slight distance behind me to give us some privacy.

Dad looked over my shoulder and then his smile brightened. ”Damien.”

Damien moved closer. ”Mr. Reyes.”

”Oh, cut it out with that.” Dad waved him over, the motion small but firm. ”You’re practically family now.”

Damien’s expression softened, and he stepped forward, shaking Dad’s hand gently, careful around the IV line taped to his wrist. ”Right...sorry, Frank. How are you feeling?”

”Like I got run over by a truck.” Dad paused, pondering. ”An expensive truck.”

I laughed, despite the chaos swirling in my head. ”You’re still cracking jokes, huh?”

”Someone has to keep the mood up, you two are such downers.”

I sat next to him and took his hand. His fingers were warm, which helped a bit.

”Are you scared?” I asked quietly.

Dad met my gaze. ”Of course I am.”

My throat tightened, but then he said. ”But I’m more scared of that face you’re making right now.”

”What?”

”You look like you’re getting ready for my funeral.”

”Dad.”

”I’m going to be fine.”

I looked away, he squeezed my hand. ”Oliver.”

I met his gaze again.

”I love you.” He said.

Those words hit me harder than I anticipated. My eyes stung. ”I love you too, Dad.”

His smile softened. ”I know.”

He knew,. although this was the first time I ever said it back to him.

For a moment, we shared a comfortable silence while the monitors hummed in the background. I fought hard not to cry, really, but my tear ducts seemed to have their own agenda.

Dad glanced at Damien. ”You better keep him from worrying himself to death.”

Damien shot me a look. ”I’ll try.”

Then a nurse came in. It was time.

My stomach dropped. I stood as the nurses began prepping the bed, checking tubes, adjusting monitors with a precision that made everything feel terrifyingly real.

Dad looked at me. ”Hey.”

”Yeah?”

”Don’t make that face.”