Page 118 of Psychic Obsession
"I called you my boyfriend down at the ER.If you're not comfortable with the term, that's fine, but you're mine."
Snorting, Frode melted into the mattress, his eyes half-closed, and Nikolai suspected he'd drop off any second."Yeah?"
"Yes.Mine."
His eyes closed and the tension bled out of his face."That's nice."The words were slurred.Nikolai wanted to get up and kiss him, but his leg was hurting, so he stayed where he was and watched as Frode succumbed to sleep.He didn't care what term they used as long as he got to keep Frode.
* * * *
Epilogue
A month later...
Frode was making Moroccan spiced beef stew, a recipe he'd seen the other day that looked good.It smelled good too.
His parents had finally gone back to Norway, and life was slowly finding its way back to normal.Finally.He'd been ready to scream after a week of having both Nikolai and his parents smothering him with concern.He was aware they'd had a scare, but for fuck's sake.
Then yesterday, the news was filled with Saylor, and everyone had worried about how he'd react.
Saylor's lawyer had spoken to some reporters about the upcoming trial, and Frode had all but lost it when Nikolai had tried to make him not watch it.Frode had snarled at him, had informed him he was sick of having him in his space all the time, and had told him to sleep at his place.As if it wasn't bad enough, he'd called Nikolai some less than flattering names, explained how sick he was of him treating him as if he were made of glass, and to top it all off, he'd said he didn't need Nikolai to take care of him.That his life was fine without him.
Nikolai had looked as if Frode had kicked him, and Frode had wanted to take back every word he'd said.Then he'd spent the evening jumping at every sound, replaying the knock waking him, and how he'd opened the door only to see Saylor standing there.
He'd slept like shit because apparently, he'd grown used to having Nikolai there in bed with him.He hadn't realized how much safer he felt knowing Nikolai was there.
He could be on his own; he'd been on his own for years, but he didn't want to.Nikolai made his life better, much better.
So now he had some sucking up to do.He hoped Moroccan stew was something Nikolai liked.
He had yet to put anything in front of him he hadn't eaten, so he was sure it would be fine.
The sound of a car driving down his driveway sounded, and Frode smiled.A short moment later, the front door opened.
Frode went to greet him, but the smile died on his lips when both Nikolai and Hjalmar walked into the hallway."Hjalmar?"
Hjalmar was too busy taking off his shoes to look at Frode."Smells good, bro."
Frode swallowed a sigh."I only heard one car."And while he was glad to see Hjalmar, he'd pictured an evening alone with Nikolai.
"Yeah, two flat tires on mine."Hjalmar looked up at him, and he could see anger simmering behind the happy facade he was presenting.
"Two?"
"Yup, someone sliced them, so I called Nikolai."
"Why?"
"I figured he'd be able to drive me home."
Frode huffed."Yeah, I get that, but why were your tires sliced?"
Hjalmar shrugged.
"You want me to read them?Maybe they touched them when they sliced them."Tires would be fine.People rarely went around patting tires on cars.
Hjalmar shook his head."Nah, maybe if it happens again, but it was most likely only some kid walking past."
Frode narrowed his eyes.You didn't slice two tires for the fun of it, did you?You sliced two to make sure the person couldn't put on the spare and drive away.Or maybe he was reading too much into it.
