Whatever It Takes {MxM} *COMPLETE*

{18} - Rafe

"...And then there was that time I stole a muffin from the store down the street where I lived thinking it was an easy hit. Bad idea. You should have seen the way that fat guy ran after me. I swear it was like he was all hopped up on speed or something. He scared the crap out of me with the way he literally bounced after me!"

He'd been at it for about twenty seven days now and though his voice was hoarse and dry, Andre chatted away into the quiet room where only the insistent beep of the heart monitor, that testified to Rafe's, still beating heart, could be heard.

Counting off on his hands, Andre bit his lip and scrunched his brows in concentration.

"I think that makes thirty four if I'm not mistaken." He said uncertainly. "Or maybe that's thirty five but...yeah. As you have clearly heard, I am anything but the angel you always try to make me out to be. I am a sinner, Rafe. A horrible, muffin stealing, teacher punching, pie humping, sinner."

He giggled softly to himself at his own outrageous confessions and shifted carefully onto his nearly healed side, as far as the straps on his body would allow, so he could look at his love a little better in the waning light of day that still spilled into the room and he sighed in unbridled bliss even as a smile tilted his lips.

It was the most he ever did since regaining his sight eighteen days ago. Just knowing he could open his eyes and see Rafe laying there so peacefully beside him, see his chest rising and falling as he breathed on his own, was a wonderful feeling Andre could never even begin to describe.

He had been losing hope that Rafe would ever come back to him.

He'd woken on that eleventh day and heard the desperate gasping and felt the convulsions of the big man's body and all but cried his eyes out and very nearly contemplated suicide were it not for the doctor's explanation that, evidently, Rafe had started to breathe all on his own without aid of the machine that was keeping breath in his body.

It was as if Andre's heart had stopped beating for those few minutes of not knowing what had befallen his lover only to come back to life and beat with a furious, continuous strong thump at the hope giving, news.

Since then, he's been a man on a mission to get Rafe to fully waken if for nothing else than to slap the ever loving shit out of him for, ever thinking that drugging him and then putting his own stupid ass on an operating table and nearly dying in the process, was a fucking good idea!

"I'm gonna make it nice and red too." he promised. "My hand will be a permanent tattoo on that sexy as hell face. Just you wait and see you damned sneaky dummy."

"Such profanity." Came the soft hoarse croak. "Do you suck my cok with that filthy mouth?"

Andre's eyes widened and bulged even as he did a double take that made him dizzy and squinted his eyes while trying to maintain his equilibrium, wondering if what he had just seen and heard was indeed real. Rafe's eyes never opened but his lips had...moved. They had moved. He had talked!

"R-Rafe...?" he whispered tentatively, his hand reaching out to touch the arm that lay so still beside the seemingly sleeping man. But dammit, his bed was too far away today. Someone had moved it. Fuck! "Are you...are you awake, Rafe? C-can you hear me, honey?"

He waited with bated breath, waited for something, anything that would prove he wasn't somehow going crazy all of a sudden but there was no further movement from the other man nor was there another spoken word.

That is what brought on the panic.

"Rafe...?" he called out, reaching farther, cursing the straps that now held his body to the bed. He was going to kill Montrose for doing this to him. Tying him to a bed like he was an animal. Oh, he had something coming to him alright.