Baby Boy || Gay MxM || Omegaverse

12. The Perfect Moment [1/2]

I thought I'd get bored or go completely nuts having to stay in bed for a week, but it turned out I really needed the rest. I slept most of the time, my body still too weak to handle anything else but my healing wounds. The pain wasn't making me any more interested in getting up, either. It was fine for as long as I stayed still and didn't try to use the muscles around the wound, but as soon as I even tried to sit up, my whole side burned.

So the first week went by quite quickly. I really had nothing to complain about. I had a great view of the crown city through the large windows of the guestroom of Francis' nice little penthouse; I was fed Tanya's great cooking; the bed was fit for a king and the TV was so large it could've hidden a truck behind it; and most of all, I had the best caretaker in the entire world.

My baby boy.

Rene worked hard to nurture me back to life. He kept me company, not leaving my side unless he went to get me something to eat. We talked a lot. I told him stories of my life, and he told me about all the things he wanted to do. Things he never thought he could experience even back when he was still with Jomica. Terrorists didn't really have many luxuries. And then he was given away as a slave...

I had to battle against my anger quite often. Every time I was reminded of how they treated Rene, I had to search for my phone and call my allies to ask if they had any news about Jomica, and especially Ruben Campbell. My allies had already dug up little pieces of information, names and locations, but nothing groundbreaking. The general assumption was that after failing so miserably at terminating me, they'd retreated back into hiding to lick their wounds.

Good. But also bad. They now understood they weren't prepared enough. Their next comeback would be much more devastating. But we'd be ready. I already had guns being shipped to me. Lots of them, like I'd asked. And the customs would look away, thanks to Hale.

After a week, I still wasn't feeling well enough to stay out of bed for too long, but I tried taking little walks around the penthouse, and I even spent time sitting outside on the balcony with Rene. There was a little nook where we were completely out of view. A perfect place to share a few kisses and touches with my boy – and I didn't have to worry about possible sharpshooters.

Little by little, I grew stronger. And so did my little Rene. He was gaining weight and muscles so fast that after two weeks at Francis' place, his body had gotten very nice to look at. There already was a little bit of something to hold on to now. He still had a long way to go, but he was no longer skin and bones, only skinny.

One night, a little over two weeks after I got out of the hospital, I watched Rene as he got ready to go take a shower. I laid in bed, cozy under my covers, enjoying the little teaser as he slowly took off his pants, his back turned partly at me as he stood right at the end of our bed. He knew he had my eyes on him, but he still made sure of it by taking a short look at me before undressing his shirt.

I smiled at his boldness, taking in his tall frame, now covered only by his underwear.

"You look good," I muttered, tilting my head. "Such a nice body... And it keeps getting better with each passing day..."

"How would you prefer me?" he asked softly, making his way slowly to me. "Soft and fair like this, or bulky and strong like most of your men?"

"Healthy," I said. "The rest is up to you."

He sat down on the edge of the bed. I couldn't resist touching him. He shivered when I ran a finger down his side.

"So not skinny like this?" he asked, and I shook my head. "Should I start working out then?"

"It's up to you," I repeated. "You're my pretty little mate, no matter what."

He hummed, then touched my arm, massaging my muscles. "I want to be strong. I want to know how to fight. To protect us."