Their Little Beauty (MxMxM+)

Chapter Sixty-Nine: Hopeful Hopes and Kissy Lips

Briar's body was a bit of a mess: vision fucked in one eye, whole right side of his body as useful as a wet noodle, and a tongue that made as much sense as a tap-dancing rock singing karaoke. It was fair to say that he had seen healthier days.

Still, he tried to remain positive. The doctors had done more scans and were happy to say that there were no visible blood clots in his brain, no swelling either, and that with enough time- and some rehabilitation- Briar should regain what he'd lost. Well, maybe not completely, but he could be much better than he was now.

There were no definite answers, as it's hard to completely predict how the brain would recover after trauma, but he was continuing to live each day with the hope that someday, eventually, he would be able to get back to his life outside of the four, identically disgusting, white walls of his room.

Until then, Briar was stuck in the hospital, where he could receive the special care he needed. And by his side, were his lovers. Day and night, twenty-four/seven, he was never alone.

"You want another drink, baby boy?" Quinn asked, shutting off the room lights and leaving only a lamp on. Briar still struggled with rather intense light sensitivity, only managing a maximum of a couple of hours at a time with normal lighting before his headaches and nausea became too strong.

Yes please, he nodded, humming in his throat to make sure that his daddy understood. It was extremely challenging to not be able to speak more than vague sounds that sometimes-resembled words, while most times they were incoherent mumbles and grunts. But it was okay.

One day at a time. We'll get there.

"Okay, Bubs. I'll get it after my shower and grab everyone some food while I'm in the canteen. Be back soon" the man smiled, bending to kiss Briar's forehead before leaving the room with the empty water jug. The boy may have watched his daddy's behind as he walked away, secretly loving the man's grey jogging bottoms and the way they cupped his juicy cheeks.

My eye has been blessed, he sighed wistfully.

Devon, bless his heart, was in the corner of the room sat on a chair, laptop on his knees while he worked away. Now thinking about it, the boy realised his master had been sitting there for the last four hours, barely moving to get into a better position for his awkwardly bent neck.

Briar had tried to get them all to go home at different points, knowing that things couldn't stay on hold forever. Life had to continue, even if he was stuck in a sort of stasis for the time being. Yet, they'd refused, using the hospital amenities to bathe and canteen to eat in place of the comforts at home.

Master looks so tired. He needs to sleep.

If there was one positive the boy had taken from this fucked up situation, it was that his lovers now listened to his every demand- other, than leaving his side. If he gestured for them to eat, they stopped what they were doing and ate. If he patted his pillow, they got the message and reclined on the cot in the corner or small loveseat and chairs to nap. And, with enough goading via puppy-dog eyes and sad sniffles, they would go out for a walk to get some fresh air.

Best of all, if he tapped his lips and pouted prettily enough, he got plenty of kisses too. Maybe he abused that power a little too much, his poor lips chapped and in desperate need of TLC, but it was too tempting not to get as much out of his newfound leeway as he could.

Besides, he'd been assaulted and could have died! He didn't even get some awesome superpower to make up for it, either. Surely, if he didn't deserve extra kisses now, then he never would.

Clearing his throat loudly, Briar smacked the side of his bed when his master looked up. Sighing, the exhausted man nodded and closed his laptop lid, setting the device onto the coffee table and grabbing a pillow. But when he went to lay down, the cheeky boy grunted, smacking his bed harder.