Elliot smirked and bent down to finally give Jonah what he wanted. He thrusts his cock into Jonah, impatient. Jonah cried out, his body arching off the couch. Elliot moved slowly against Jonah, their thighs hitting against each others. Jonah stretched his hand down to squeeze Elliot's balls. Elliot vibrated, the sensation all too much. The release was a torrent, a wave that washed over him, leaving him trembling and weak.
Jonah followed soon after the feeling of warm semen in his ass, his own release a guttural sound in the quiet room. They lay entwined on the couch, totally exhausted, catching their breaths and soon enough they slept off. The first rays of the early morning sun crept through the living room window, painting the room in soft hues of pink and gold. Elliot stirred first, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of Jonah laying on top of him, his face pale even in sleep.
A wave of tenderness washed over Elliot, quickly followed by a hint of worry. He gently stroked Jonah's hair, his heart aching at the thought of the battles that lay ahead. Jonah shifted, his eyes opening slowly. He blinked, adjusting to the light, a faint smile touching his lips as he met Elliot's gaze.
"Morning, babe." Elliot whispered, his voice hoarse with sleep.
"Morning," Jonah replied, his voice equally rough. Elliot stood up and left Jonah on the couch to go and freshen up, they had a long day ahead and they had to visit the hospital on time. As they prepared to leave, Elliot's phone buzzed, the harsh ring shattering their calm morning. He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing.
"It is Dr. Wilson." He said, his voice tight. Jonah's heartbeat increased rapidly. "What does he want?" Elliot answered the call, his voice carefully neutral. "Hello, Dr. Wilson?" Dr. Wilson's voice came through, clear but tinged with urgency. "Elliot, I have some news about Mr. Hartfield. He has regained consciousness." A lot of relief washed over Elliot, he looked at Jonah, who looked at him in confusion.
"That is wonderful news," Elliot said, excited. "But is he alright? Is he stable?"
"He is very weak, but stable," Dr. Wilson replied." I just thought you should know as soon as possible."
"We will be there right away," Elliot said assuringly, his voice firm. He ended the call, his gaze meeting Jonah's. "He is awake, Jonah. Your father is awake." Elliot said, the excitement and happiness showing on his face. Jonah's face crumpled, tears welling in his eyes.
"Oh, Elliot." He whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "That is the best news I have had in a long time." They rushed to the hospital, a hope blossoming in their hearts. The drive was a blur of nervous anticipation, their hands held tightly together. When they arrived, they hurried to Jonah's father's ward, their footsteps echoing in the sterile corridor. Elliot pushed the door open, his heart pounding in his chest.
The scene that greeted them was shocking. Jonah's mother sat by his father's bedside, her face a mask of strained affection. But it was not his mother that caught Jonah's attention. Victor sat in a chair beside her, his expression a carefully constructed mask of concern. Jonah froze, his mind reeling. Victor. Here! How? Why!?
"Jonah! I am glad you are finally here." Victor exclaimed, his voice laced with false cheer. He stood, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. "I heard about your father. I was so worried, I had to come." Jonah stared at him, his confusion battling with a rising tide of anger.
"You came?" he asked, his voice a bit raised. "How did you even know?" Victor's smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes. "I reached out to your parents after yesterday in the office. You seemed worried, I was worried and I just had to reach out. They were understandably distressed. I just wanted to offer my support." Jonah's anger flared.
"There is nothing, absolutely nothing on earth that gives you the right to do that." He said, his voice rising. "This is a private matter. I can handle my family's affairs." His mother turned, her eyes cold and judgmental. "Victor was just being kind, Jonah," she said with a sharp voice. "He has been more supportive than you have been." Jonah recoiled as if struck.
"Mom," he whispered, his voice laced with pain. "How can you say that?"
"It is true," she snapped. "Victor is like a son to me, a real son, unlike someone who can't even tell his mother about his sick preferences." Victor watched, his smile growing imperceptibly, as the knife twisted in Jonah's heart. Elliot stepped forward, his eyes blazing with fury.
"That is enough," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You have no right to speak to Jonah that way."
"Who are you to talk." Jonah's mother said.
"Since you ask the obvious, I am his lover, the only support system that knows the true him." Elliot replied his anger blossoming. Jonah with a voice weak but firm, spoke up.
"Please, everyone," he called for attention, his gaze pleading. "No fighting. I just want peace." Jonah looked at his father, his heart aching. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to defend himself. But he saw the weariness in his father's eyes, the fragility of his condition. He swallowed his anger, his voice strained.
"I am glad you are awake, Dad," he said. "I am so glad." His father stared at him with a cold look on his face. He has lost them both, Jonah's head dropped. He was down. He turned to his mother, his gaze filled with a mixture of hurt and defiance. "I will leave you two alone," he said. "I do not want to cause any more stress." He turned to Victor, his eyes narrowed.
"And you," he said, his voice low, "stay out of my family's business." He turned and walked out of the room, Elliot following close behind. Slight anger building up in him because of Victor's actions.
Meanwhile inside the ward Victor sat beside Jonah's mother, his posture leaning slightly forward, as if offering unwavering support. "Mrs. Hartfield," Victor began, his voice a low, soothing murmur, "I understand your pain. I truly do. But holding onto this anger, this resentment, it will only hurt you more."