Seize the Day - NaNoWriMo Attempt - Chapter 8
No longer ahead on the NaNoWriMo goals, but I am on par with them, even if I don't manage to get many words down on the page, today. This chapter's kinda long, though, and NSFW there, in the middle. Because well, it's Jazz and Savin, and they're horny motherfuckers.
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Soon enough, Jazz’s vehicle pulled up at the hospital. Jazz’s phone had remained silent, the whole time. As he climbed out of the car, Jazz squared his shoulders and immediately headed towards the front desk of the lobby. The man behind the information counter blinked, recognition registering on his face. “P-Prince Jasper,” he said, giving a slight bow of his head. “Your father’s located on the third floor, in one of our private rooms. Your Guard will be able to lead you the way.”
Jazz nodded, offering the man a smile. “Thank you,” he said, turning on his heel. His Guard did direct him to the third floor. The nurses and other doctors of the hospital looked up whenever Jazz moved through the halls, causing a rush of heat to overtake Jazz’s face.
Thankfully, the Guard remained behind as they opened the door to his father’s room for him. Jazz breathed a sigh of relief, noticing his father was awake in his bed. “Evening, Dad,” he said, clearing his throat.
His father looked up from the paper he had in front of him, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Jazz. “Prince Jasper! I’m surprised to see you here,” he said, shifting into a more upright position. Pain registered on his face, his hand hovering over his side. “How’s the Empire?”
“Alright,” Jazz answered, offering his father a nervous smile. He glanced around the room, noticing it was far more spacious than any hospital room had the right to be. Paintings decorated the walls, some cheap reiterations of more famous paintings, others seeming to be original work. The walls were wood paneled, and his father remained hooked up to various machinery. Jazz tried to keep his eyes off the various wires and tubing and instead focused them on his father’s face.
“I surprised the Council a bit today,” Jazz admitted quietly, settling into the lone chair beside his father’s bed. “Particularly Mitchel.”
“Oh?” Casio asked, raising an eyebrow. He pulled his hand away from his side, his hands folding neatly inside his lap. “Councilor Foraker is quite difficult to impress. How’d you manage that?”
Jazz felt his ears burn as he looked away from his father, casting his gaze over his father’s legs, covered by a thin hospital sheet. “I took the initiative on a few things,” he said, his voice low. He cleared his throat, tapping his fingers on his thigh for a moment before rubbing his sweating palms along his jeans. “How’s --” his voice cracked, causing him to clear his throat again, “how’s the pain?”
Casio snorted, the action seeming to cause another pained expression to cross his face. “My doctor seems to think I’m not in enough pain,” he muttered. He gestured to one of the machines. “He refuses to up my morphine drip despite my asking him to.”
“Dr. Bates wouldn’t...?” Jazz asked, furrowing his brow.
“Which Dr. Bates?” Casio asked before Jazz could get his next question past his lips. “There are two -- an older gentleman and his son.”
“The son,” Jazz said, a slight smile forming on his lips. “I didn’t know he worked with his father,” he murmured, looking up at his father. “He was your surgeon -- his father wasn’t involved in the surgery at all, I don’t think...”
“The elder Dr. Bates won’t up my morphine,” Casio clarified, frowning. He glanced down his loose shirt -- and for the first time since he arrived, Jazz noticed that his father wore street clothes instead of a hospital gown. “The younger seems to not want rock the boat with his father, either.”
“That’s because morphine is addictive, Emperor Callahan,” a voice murmured from the doorway. Jazz’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of the man’s voice. He bit his lip to keep himself from exclaiming Savin’s name as he stepped around the corner, a wide grin breaking out on his face despite himself. “My father’s worried about addiction -- but I can up your morphine just a little bit. Normally by now, though, you’d be able to wean off of it somewhat.”
Casio’s frown deepened, raising his eyes to meet Savin’s. “How do you expect anyone to simply handle this kind of pain? It’s ridiculous -- addiction doesn’t happen that quickly.”
“It can, and it does, Emperor Callahan,” Savin said, approaching the morphine drip. Jazz noticed that the man wasn’t wearing his glasses, his eyes intently focused on the machine in front of him as he pushed a couple of buttons. As he moved away from the machine, he offered Jazz, then Casio, a warm smile. “I’m going to need to check your incision site, now. Would you prefer it if your son stepped outside, or is it okay if I examine you with him in here?”
“Prince Jasper can stay, if he wishes,” Casio said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“I’ll stay,” Jazz said, sitting up straighter. “I wanted to speak with Dr. Bates for a few minutes, anyway.”
Savin’s brow furrowed just a tiny bit at that, his eyes flickering over to Jazz for a moment before he walked over to the edge of Casio’s hospital bed. “I’m going to ask you to lift your shirt out of the way -- or simply just take it off, whichever you prefer, Emperor Callahan.”
Casio nodded, his hands already moving to pull his shirt up and over his head. He groaned in pain, the noises causing Jazz to wince and put a hand to his own side. Savin seemed to move quickly, as though he didn’t have an audience in the room. He had Casio’s bandage off in seconds, the thick strips of medical tape removed without so much as a warning. There weren’t many stitches from what Jazz could see, but the area didn’t look quite right.
The frown on Savin’s face confirmed Jazz’s suspicions. “Have you been given any antibiotics, Emperor Callahan?” Savin asked, a note of worry rising above the rest in his voice. He cleared his throat, fingers pressing against Casio’s inflamed skin deftly.
“Your father said he would start me on them, but I don’t know whether or not he actually did,” Casio muttered.
Savin’s frown deepened, and he moved to the foot of the bed and picked up the chart that remained in the little shelf. He flipped through it and shook his head. “I’ll get you started on them right away. Your surgical wound is definitely infected, and if we don’t take care of that right away, you could get very sick.”
Jazz felt a chill roll down his spine as Savin looked over at him, as well. “Prince Jasper, would you say that your father is in his right mind to consent to any medical procedures? You’re his next-of-kin -- if you feel that his ability to make his own medical decisions is compromised, you need to inform me right away,” Savin said, his face oddly blank, as though this sort of speech was something that he gave all the time. “If the infection gets any worse, we might have to surgically remove some of the infected tissue -- and the pain from that sort of infection can make decision-making difficult.”
Jazz glanced over at his father and chewed on his bottom lip. “Right now I think he’s okay to consent to his own medical procedures,” he said with a slight nod of his head. He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke. “Is there anything he should be doing to help keep the infection under better control?”
“The nurses should be changing his bandages for him and clearing the site of any pus and other signs of infection,” Savin said, shaking his head. “When he leaves here, he’ll have to change the bandages himself until his stitches dissolve. But as long as he’s here, he won’t have to worry about any wound care. We will, however, teach him how to properly care of it.”
Jazz nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Bates,” he said, dropping his eyes back to his father.
Casio looked between the two of them and shook his head. “I do have my own medical staff available at the Palace, Dr. Bates,” he muttered, sounding almost childish. He pulled his shirt back on over his head, gasping and panting in pain once he was finished. “I just want to know how the hell I’ve gotten such a bad infection in one of the best hospitals in the Empire.”
Savin blinked in surprise at that, an indignant expression crossing his face. “Sometimes infection just happens, Emperor Callahan,” he said, his voice surprisingly level. “I can assure you, all proper surgical protocol were followed during your surgery. The infection may have already been present when you arrived here, for all we know. Or one of the nurses may have improperly cared for your wound. There are plenty of ways for infection to get in, despite all that we do to try and prevent it from happening.”
Jazz gave Savin a disarming smile, leaning in a little closer to his father, who was now glaring at Savin, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. “Dad, please,” Jazz whispered. “They’re doing all that they can to make sure you’re okay and that you return to the Empire as quickly as possible. Cut them some slack, okay?”
Casio frowned, his eyebrows knitting together for a moment before he sighed and shook his head. “Speaking of the Empire -- I hope you’re managing my affairs well enough. I would much prefer not to come back to a mess.”
“Yes, Dad. I’m doing the best that I can,” Jazz said, frowning slightly to himself. He glanced up at Savin, who was back over at the morphine drip and the other IVs, inspecting labels and volumes. “Dr. Bates, let me know when you’re free for a few minutes so we can talk.”
Savin nodded. “Of course, Prince Jasper. Would you prefer to talk in private? I just need to grab another IV of antibiotics for your father, and then we can speak,” he said without turning around.
“In private is preferable,” Jazz answered, swallowing down his nerves. He tried not to think about what he’d like to do instead of talk. Even watching Savin do his job, his intent and his focus, just made Jazz want to get to know the man even better.
Savin smiled at Jazz as he turned around, his eyes flashing with mirth. “I’ll be sure to get your father’s antibiotics quickly,” he said with a nod. “Please, Emperor Callahan, if your pain gets any worse or you start to feel feverish, let one of the nurses or myself know? I will be on for the rest of the evening.”
“Of course, Dr. Bates,” Casio murmured, giving another dismissive wave of his hand. He then rested his head back against his pillows, a scowl forming on his face as Savin then walked back out of the room. “I wonder if he even bothered to increase the pain meds.”
“I’m pretty sure he did, Dad,” Jazz said, frowning a bit to himself. “You just have an infection. Of course it’s going to make the pain worse.”
Casio gave a partial shrug of his shoulders. “What is it that you need to speak with him about?” he asked, giving Jazz a questioning look. “If it’s about my health, I would like to be included in the discussion.”
“I wanted to thank him,” Jazz answered, managing to keep his expression completely neutral and natural. “He handled your case with grace and is continuing to do so, without acting star-struck over who you are. Considering how most of the public acts...”
“I suppose you have a point,” Casio said, closing his eyes. “You may go ahead and step outside, then, Jasper. Please keep me updated on the on-goings of my Empire. I expect to see you again, tomorrow.”
“Of course, Dad,” Jazz said with a nod, getting up from his seat. He paused as he turned on his heel before turning back around and wrapping his arms around his father’s shoulders. “Please try to listen to your doctors, okay? They know better than you do,” he whispered, avoiding his father’s eyes as he pulled away from him.
When Casio didn’t say anything in response, Jazz took that as his cue to leave. As he straightened his shirt out, he headed out the door and stood beside it and pressed his back against the wall. The Guard gave him an expectant look. “Go ahead and prepare the car,” he said, clearing his throat and ignoring the way his eyes burned. “I need to speak with Dr. Bates alone when he returns, and once I’m done speaking with him I will return home.”
The Guard nodded, the members escorting him moving down the hallway as a unit. Jazz watched as they walked away and sighed, resting the back of his head against the wall and closing his eyes. He took a moment to just breathe, enjoying the brief silence that surrounded him. His body sagged with exhaustion, parts of him aching that he never knew could ache, before.
“You alright?”
Jazz snapped his eyes open, looking towards the source of the voice. Savin stood before him, hands shoved inside the pockets of his lab coat. For the first time, Jazz noticed Savin wore scrubs underneath them -- scrubs that hugged Savin’s body closely. It took a moment for Savin’s expectant look and his words to register before Jazz nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” he answered, grateful that his voice didn’t betray him.
“I see you got rid of most of the Guard,” Savin said, offering Jazz a slight smirk. He glanced around the hall, the smile disappearing somewhat. “There’s a room just a few more feet down to your left -- it might be best if we spoke in there.”
Jazz nodded, pushing himself away from the wall. He headed in the direction Savin had pointed out to him, tensing slightly as Savin’s hand pressed against his back, guiding him through an open door. He could feel his face heat up as Savin’s hand never left the small of his back, like it had done the night they met. As the door shut behind them both, Savin’s hand moved away.
“You really can’t go anywhere without your guards, can you?” Savin asked just as Jazz turned back around to face him.
Jazz shook his head. “Not really,” he answered, a shaky smile on his lips. He failed to keep his mind off of how close he and Savin were standing to one another. How he could almost feel the heat of the other man’s body from where they stood. “I managed to sneak away from the Palace the other night without them, don’t worry.”
Savin smiled at that, relief prominent on his face. “Thank god,” he said, shaking his head. His expression sobered up, slightly. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about that you couldn’t discuss with me in front of your father?”
Jazz opened his mouth to answer, then looked away, knowing his face had to be turning red yet again. “I wanted to thank you,” he said, catching his bottom lip underneath his teeth. “Most people -- they wouldn’t be able to keep up this level of professionalism in front of my father. Or in front of me, for that matter. It shows me just how dedicated you are to giving him the best care, possible.”
Jazz finally found the courage to lift his eyes again, looking directly at Savin. The older man just smiled at him, shaking his head slightly. “And here I thought you wanted something else...” he murmured, removing his hands from his pockets.
That time, Jazz’s face definitely burned, his eyes widening somewhat. “What do you mean?” he asked, feigning innocence.
Savin laughed, the sound far more soothing to Jazz’s ears than it should have been. “I think you know exactly what I mean,” he said, keeping his voice low as his hands placed themselves on Jazz’s hips. He pulled Jazz close to him, their lips meeting again for the first time in a few days. Jazz found himself surrendering into the kiss entirely, his body pressing against Savin’s as his hands roamed up Savin’s chest and over his shoulders.
Part of him knew this was a bad idea -- that they could get caught, that Savin was at work, that he shouldn’t even be giving Savin false hope. But he couldn’t stop himself as Savin pushed him against a nearby wall. Couldn’t contain his quiet gasps as Savin’s lips moved from his mouth to his neck. “Is there anyway you can get some time off to see me?” Savin breathed against his skin.
Jazz managed a breathless chuckle at that, his fingers tangling themselves in Savin’s hair as Savin continued to press kisses and small nips to his neck. “I’m acting Emperor for the next month, at least,” he said, shivering as Savin’s hands slipped under his shirt. “I can try to block out time for a date, but --”
“Add me to your dad’s personal medical staff,” Savin suggested, his fingertips brushing against Jazz’s nipples. “I don’t care how you do it, just make it so that I can see you every once in a while after your dad leaves here.”
Jazz didn’t get a chance to say anything in response as Savin’s lips covered his yet again. The two ground against one another, hips moving feverishly and betraying their level of desire for one another. “I can -- “ Jazz interrupted himself with a quiet moan, Savin’s hand dipping below the waist of his jeans. “I can try to convince him -- to do that.”
“Who else would know his medical needs better than me?” Savin argued, his hand continuing to move south. As his fingers wrapped around Jazz’s length, Jazz threw his head back, a loud groan escaping him this time. “I want to be able to see you without the Guard breathing down our necks...”
“I know,” Jazz gasped, his hands roaming all over Savin’s chest and down his sides. He pulled the other man closer to him, teasing another deep kiss out of Savin in order to keep himself quiet. “We should -- should probably stop. I have to --” He couldn’t finish his sentence, not as Savin unzipped his jeans with his other hand and pulled Jazz free from them.
“You’re not leaving until I get you off,” Savin muttered against his lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Jazz. Please, let me do at least this much.”
Jazz only managed a nod, his fingers grasping the wall behind him as tightly as he could. When Savin sunk to his knees, those same fingers buried themselves in Savin’s hair. Savin’s lips and tongue slid along the length of his cock, and he had to bite down on his free hand in order to keep himself quiet. As much as he wanted Savin to tease, he knew they didn’t have the time for that.
Savin seemed to know that, as well, his mouth dipping down to take in as much of Jazz’s length as was possible. As Jazz’s quiet whimpers filled the room, Jazz couldn’t help looking down at the man kneeling before him, their eyes meeting for a brief second before Savin closed his again in concentration.
Moments later, Jazz came with a shuddering gasp, nails digging into Savin’s scalp. The older man swallowed everything he could, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he pulled away from Jazz and smirked up at him. As Savin rose to his feet, Jazz tucked himself back into his jeans, not having the time to revel in the pleasure Savin had just given him. Savin pulled Jazz in for another kiss, and Jazz could taste himself in Savin’s mouth. Without thinking, Jazz’s hand landed on top of Savin’s arousal, rubbing him through his scrubs. “Let me --”
“You don’t have the time for that,” Savin whispered, stifling a quiet moan. He gestured to the door with his head. “Go, before I let you, anyway. Text me when you get a chance.”
“Savin...” Jazz didn’t pull his hand away, instead slipping his hand under Savin’s scrubs. He leaned in closer to the older man, breathing against his neck. “I can’t just leave you like this.”
He felt Savin shiver underneath his hand and his lips as he, too, began to trace small shapes into Savin’s skin with his tongue. It didn’t matter that his father was in the hospital room next to them, he hadn’t had a moment to even contact the man in front of him, no matter how much he had wanted to. Now that he had Savin breathing heavily in his ear, stifled moans escaping him, how could he possibly leave?
A knock on the caused the both of them to jump away from one another, Jazz’s face burning with embarrassment as he heard someone call his name through the door. “Prince Jasper? Are you alright in there, sir?”
“I’m fine!” Jazz answered, hoping that his voice didn’t shake nearly as much as it felt like it did, in his throat. “Dr. Bates and I are just about finished with our conversation. I should be only a few more minutes.”
“You have a call waiting for you, sir. From the Western colonies.”
“Damnit,” Jazz hissed under his breath, rolling his eyes to himself. Savin raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise remained quiet. “Tell them I’ll be right with them,” he called through the door. He then turned back towards Savin, standing on his toes to press another kiss to Savin’s lips. “I’ll text you after I’m done with them, okay?” he whispered as he pulled away.
Savin nodded, his green eyes searching Jazz’s own. “And...?” he prompted, cupping Jazz’s cheek.
“I’ll make sure to get you on my dad’s personal medical team,” Jazz continued, offering Savin a reassuring smile as he placed his hand on top of Savin’s. “I promise.”
When Savin smiled back, Jazz’s heart skipped a beat for the first time.
Next Chapter
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Soon enough, Jazz’s vehicle pulled up at the hospital. Jazz’s phone had remained silent, the whole time. As he climbed out of the car, Jazz squared his shoulders and immediately headed towards the front desk of the lobby. The man behind the information counter blinked, recognition registering on his face. “P-Prince Jasper,” he said, giving a slight bow of his head. “Your father’s located on the third floor, in one of our private rooms. Your Guard will be able to lead you the way.”
Jazz nodded, offering the man a smile. “Thank you,” he said, turning on his heel. His Guard did direct him to the third floor. The nurses and other doctors of the hospital looked up whenever Jazz moved through the halls, causing a rush of heat to overtake Jazz’s face.
Thankfully, the Guard remained behind as they opened the door to his father’s room for him. Jazz breathed a sigh of relief, noticing his father was awake in his bed. “Evening, Dad,” he said, clearing his throat.
His father looked up from the paper he had in front of him, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Jazz. “Prince Jasper! I’m surprised to see you here,” he said, shifting into a more upright position. Pain registered on his face, his hand hovering over his side. “How’s the Empire?”
“Alright,” Jazz answered, offering his father a nervous smile. He glanced around the room, noticing it was far more spacious than any hospital room had the right to be. Paintings decorated the walls, some cheap reiterations of more famous paintings, others seeming to be original work. The walls were wood paneled, and his father remained hooked up to various machinery. Jazz tried to keep his eyes off the various wires and tubing and instead focused them on his father’s face.
“I surprised the Council a bit today,” Jazz admitted quietly, settling into the lone chair beside his father’s bed. “Particularly Mitchel.”
“Oh?” Casio asked, raising an eyebrow. He pulled his hand away from his side, his hands folding neatly inside his lap. “Councilor Foraker is quite difficult to impress. How’d you manage that?”
Jazz felt his ears burn as he looked away from his father, casting his gaze over his father’s legs, covered by a thin hospital sheet. “I took the initiative on a few things,” he said, his voice low. He cleared his throat, tapping his fingers on his thigh for a moment before rubbing his sweating palms along his jeans. “How’s --” his voice cracked, causing him to clear his throat again, “how’s the pain?”
Casio snorted, the action seeming to cause another pained expression to cross his face. “My doctor seems to think I’m not in enough pain,” he muttered. He gestured to one of the machines. “He refuses to up my morphine drip despite my asking him to.”
“Dr. Bates wouldn’t...?” Jazz asked, furrowing his brow.
“Which Dr. Bates?” Casio asked before Jazz could get his next question past his lips. “There are two -- an older gentleman and his son.”
“The son,” Jazz said, a slight smile forming on his lips. “I didn’t know he worked with his father,” he murmured, looking up at his father. “He was your surgeon -- his father wasn’t involved in the surgery at all, I don’t think...”
“The elder Dr. Bates won’t up my morphine,” Casio clarified, frowning. He glanced down his loose shirt -- and for the first time since he arrived, Jazz noticed that his father wore street clothes instead of a hospital gown. “The younger seems to not want rock the boat with his father, either.”
“That’s because morphine is addictive, Emperor Callahan,” a voice murmured from the doorway. Jazz’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of the man’s voice. He bit his lip to keep himself from exclaiming Savin’s name as he stepped around the corner, a wide grin breaking out on his face despite himself. “My father’s worried about addiction -- but I can up your morphine just a little bit. Normally by now, though, you’d be able to wean off of it somewhat.”
Casio’s frown deepened, raising his eyes to meet Savin’s. “How do you expect anyone to simply handle this kind of pain? It’s ridiculous -- addiction doesn’t happen that quickly.”
“It can, and it does, Emperor Callahan,” Savin said, approaching the morphine drip. Jazz noticed that the man wasn’t wearing his glasses, his eyes intently focused on the machine in front of him as he pushed a couple of buttons. As he moved away from the machine, he offered Jazz, then Casio, a warm smile. “I’m going to need to check your incision site, now. Would you prefer it if your son stepped outside, or is it okay if I examine you with him in here?”
“Prince Jasper can stay, if he wishes,” Casio said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“I’ll stay,” Jazz said, sitting up straighter. “I wanted to speak with Dr. Bates for a few minutes, anyway.”
Savin’s brow furrowed just a tiny bit at that, his eyes flickering over to Jazz for a moment before he walked over to the edge of Casio’s hospital bed. “I’m going to ask you to lift your shirt out of the way -- or simply just take it off, whichever you prefer, Emperor Callahan.”
Casio nodded, his hands already moving to pull his shirt up and over his head. He groaned in pain, the noises causing Jazz to wince and put a hand to his own side. Savin seemed to move quickly, as though he didn’t have an audience in the room. He had Casio’s bandage off in seconds, the thick strips of medical tape removed without so much as a warning. There weren’t many stitches from what Jazz could see, but the area didn’t look quite right.
The frown on Savin’s face confirmed Jazz’s suspicions. “Have you been given any antibiotics, Emperor Callahan?” Savin asked, a note of worry rising above the rest in his voice. He cleared his throat, fingers pressing against Casio’s inflamed skin deftly.
“Your father said he would start me on them, but I don’t know whether or not he actually did,” Casio muttered.
Savin’s frown deepened, and he moved to the foot of the bed and picked up the chart that remained in the little shelf. He flipped through it and shook his head. “I’ll get you started on them right away. Your surgical wound is definitely infected, and if we don’t take care of that right away, you could get very sick.”
Jazz felt a chill roll down his spine as Savin looked over at him, as well. “Prince Jasper, would you say that your father is in his right mind to consent to any medical procedures? You’re his next-of-kin -- if you feel that his ability to make his own medical decisions is compromised, you need to inform me right away,” Savin said, his face oddly blank, as though this sort of speech was something that he gave all the time. “If the infection gets any worse, we might have to surgically remove some of the infected tissue -- and the pain from that sort of infection can make decision-making difficult.”
Jazz glanced over at his father and chewed on his bottom lip. “Right now I think he’s okay to consent to his own medical procedures,” he said with a slight nod of his head. He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke. “Is there anything he should be doing to help keep the infection under better control?”
“The nurses should be changing his bandages for him and clearing the site of any pus and other signs of infection,” Savin said, shaking his head. “When he leaves here, he’ll have to change the bandages himself until his stitches dissolve. But as long as he’s here, he won’t have to worry about any wound care. We will, however, teach him how to properly care of it.”
Jazz nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Bates,” he said, dropping his eyes back to his father.
Casio looked between the two of them and shook his head. “I do have my own medical staff available at the Palace, Dr. Bates,” he muttered, sounding almost childish. He pulled his shirt back on over his head, gasping and panting in pain once he was finished. “I just want to know how the hell I’ve gotten such a bad infection in one of the best hospitals in the Empire.”
Savin blinked in surprise at that, an indignant expression crossing his face. “Sometimes infection just happens, Emperor Callahan,” he said, his voice surprisingly level. “I can assure you, all proper surgical protocol were followed during your surgery. The infection may have already been present when you arrived here, for all we know. Or one of the nurses may have improperly cared for your wound. There are plenty of ways for infection to get in, despite all that we do to try and prevent it from happening.”
Jazz gave Savin a disarming smile, leaning in a little closer to his father, who was now glaring at Savin, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. “Dad, please,” Jazz whispered. “They’re doing all that they can to make sure you’re okay and that you return to the Empire as quickly as possible. Cut them some slack, okay?”
Casio frowned, his eyebrows knitting together for a moment before he sighed and shook his head. “Speaking of the Empire -- I hope you’re managing my affairs well enough. I would much prefer not to come back to a mess.”
“Yes, Dad. I’m doing the best that I can,” Jazz said, frowning slightly to himself. He glanced up at Savin, who was back over at the morphine drip and the other IVs, inspecting labels and volumes. “Dr. Bates, let me know when you’re free for a few minutes so we can talk.”
Savin nodded. “Of course, Prince Jasper. Would you prefer to talk in private? I just need to grab another IV of antibiotics for your father, and then we can speak,” he said without turning around.
“In private is preferable,” Jazz answered, swallowing down his nerves. He tried not to think about what he’d like to do instead of talk. Even watching Savin do his job, his intent and his focus, just made Jazz want to get to know the man even better.
Savin smiled at Jazz as he turned around, his eyes flashing with mirth. “I’ll be sure to get your father’s antibiotics quickly,” he said with a nod. “Please, Emperor Callahan, if your pain gets any worse or you start to feel feverish, let one of the nurses or myself know? I will be on for the rest of the evening.”
“Of course, Dr. Bates,” Casio murmured, giving another dismissive wave of his hand. He then rested his head back against his pillows, a scowl forming on his face as Savin then walked back out of the room. “I wonder if he even bothered to increase the pain meds.”
“I’m pretty sure he did, Dad,” Jazz said, frowning a bit to himself. “You just have an infection. Of course it’s going to make the pain worse.”
Casio gave a partial shrug of his shoulders. “What is it that you need to speak with him about?” he asked, giving Jazz a questioning look. “If it’s about my health, I would like to be included in the discussion.”
“I wanted to thank him,” Jazz answered, managing to keep his expression completely neutral and natural. “He handled your case with grace and is continuing to do so, without acting star-struck over who you are. Considering how most of the public acts...”
“I suppose you have a point,” Casio said, closing his eyes. “You may go ahead and step outside, then, Jasper. Please keep me updated on the on-goings of my Empire. I expect to see you again, tomorrow.”
“Of course, Dad,” Jazz said with a nod, getting up from his seat. He paused as he turned on his heel before turning back around and wrapping his arms around his father’s shoulders. “Please try to listen to your doctors, okay? They know better than you do,” he whispered, avoiding his father’s eyes as he pulled away from him.
When Casio didn’t say anything in response, Jazz took that as his cue to leave. As he straightened his shirt out, he headed out the door and stood beside it and pressed his back against the wall. The Guard gave him an expectant look. “Go ahead and prepare the car,” he said, clearing his throat and ignoring the way his eyes burned. “I need to speak with Dr. Bates alone when he returns, and once I’m done speaking with him I will return home.”
The Guard nodded, the members escorting him moving down the hallway as a unit. Jazz watched as they walked away and sighed, resting the back of his head against the wall and closing his eyes. He took a moment to just breathe, enjoying the brief silence that surrounded him. His body sagged with exhaustion, parts of him aching that he never knew could ache, before.
“You alright?”
Jazz snapped his eyes open, looking towards the source of the voice. Savin stood before him, hands shoved inside the pockets of his lab coat. For the first time, Jazz noticed Savin wore scrubs underneath them -- scrubs that hugged Savin’s body closely. It took a moment for Savin’s expectant look and his words to register before Jazz nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” he answered, grateful that his voice didn’t betray him.
“I see you got rid of most of the Guard,” Savin said, offering Jazz a slight smirk. He glanced around the hall, the smile disappearing somewhat. “There’s a room just a few more feet down to your left -- it might be best if we spoke in there.”
Jazz nodded, pushing himself away from the wall. He headed in the direction Savin had pointed out to him, tensing slightly as Savin’s hand pressed against his back, guiding him through an open door. He could feel his face heat up as Savin’s hand never left the small of his back, like it had done the night they met. As the door shut behind them both, Savin’s hand moved away.
“You really can’t go anywhere without your guards, can you?” Savin asked just as Jazz turned back around to face him.
Jazz shook his head. “Not really,” he answered, a shaky smile on his lips. He failed to keep his mind off of how close he and Savin were standing to one another. How he could almost feel the heat of the other man’s body from where they stood. “I managed to sneak away from the Palace the other night without them, don’t worry.”
Savin smiled at that, relief prominent on his face. “Thank god,” he said, shaking his head. His expression sobered up, slightly. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about that you couldn’t discuss with me in front of your father?”
Jazz opened his mouth to answer, then looked away, knowing his face had to be turning red yet again. “I wanted to thank you,” he said, catching his bottom lip underneath his teeth. “Most people -- they wouldn’t be able to keep up this level of professionalism in front of my father. Or in front of me, for that matter. It shows me just how dedicated you are to giving him the best care, possible.”
Jazz finally found the courage to lift his eyes again, looking directly at Savin. The older man just smiled at him, shaking his head slightly. “And here I thought you wanted something else...” he murmured, removing his hands from his pockets.
That time, Jazz’s face definitely burned, his eyes widening somewhat. “What do you mean?” he asked, feigning innocence.
Savin laughed, the sound far more soothing to Jazz’s ears than it should have been. “I think you know exactly what I mean,” he said, keeping his voice low as his hands placed themselves on Jazz’s hips. He pulled Jazz close to him, their lips meeting again for the first time in a few days. Jazz found himself surrendering into the kiss entirely, his body pressing against Savin’s as his hands roamed up Savin’s chest and over his shoulders.
Part of him knew this was a bad idea -- that they could get caught, that Savin was at work, that he shouldn’t even be giving Savin false hope. But he couldn’t stop himself as Savin pushed him against a nearby wall. Couldn’t contain his quiet gasps as Savin’s lips moved from his mouth to his neck. “Is there anyway you can get some time off to see me?” Savin breathed against his skin.
Jazz managed a breathless chuckle at that, his fingers tangling themselves in Savin’s hair as Savin continued to press kisses and small nips to his neck. “I’m acting Emperor for the next month, at least,” he said, shivering as Savin’s hands slipped under his shirt. “I can try to block out time for a date, but --”
“Add me to your dad’s personal medical staff,” Savin suggested, his fingertips brushing against Jazz’s nipples. “I don’t care how you do it, just make it so that I can see you every once in a while after your dad leaves here.”
Jazz didn’t get a chance to say anything in response as Savin’s lips covered his yet again. The two ground against one another, hips moving feverishly and betraying their level of desire for one another. “I can -- “ Jazz interrupted himself with a quiet moan, Savin’s hand dipping below the waist of his jeans. “I can try to convince him -- to do that.”
“Who else would know his medical needs better than me?” Savin argued, his hand continuing to move south. As his fingers wrapped around Jazz’s length, Jazz threw his head back, a loud groan escaping him this time. “I want to be able to see you without the Guard breathing down our necks...”
“I know,” Jazz gasped, his hands roaming all over Savin’s chest and down his sides. He pulled the other man closer to him, teasing another deep kiss out of Savin in order to keep himself quiet. “We should -- should probably stop. I have to --” He couldn’t finish his sentence, not as Savin unzipped his jeans with his other hand and pulled Jazz free from them.
“You’re not leaving until I get you off,” Savin muttered against his lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Jazz. Please, let me do at least this much.”
Jazz only managed a nod, his fingers grasping the wall behind him as tightly as he could. When Savin sunk to his knees, those same fingers buried themselves in Savin’s hair. Savin’s lips and tongue slid along the length of his cock, and he had to bite down on his free hand in order to keep himself quiet. As much as he wanted Savin to tease, he knew they didn’t have the time for that.
Savin seemed to know that, as well, his mouth dipping down to take in as much of Jazz’s length as was possible. As Jazz’s quiet whimpers filled the room, Jazz couldn’t help looking down at the man kneeling before him, their eyes meeting for a brief second before Savin closed his again in concentration.
Moments later, Jazz came with a shuddering gasp, nails digging into Savin’s scalp. The older man swallowed everything he could, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he pulled away from Jazz and smirked up at him. As Savin rose to his feet, Jazz tucked himself back into his jeans, not having the time to revel in the pleasure Savin had just given him. Savin pulled Jazz in for another kiss, and Jazz could taste himself in Savin’s mouth. Without thinking, Jazz’s hand landed on top of Savin’s arousal, rubbing him through his scrubs. “Let me --”
“You don’t have the time for that,” Savin whispered, stifling a quiet moan. He gestured to the door with his head. “Go, before I let you, anyway. Text me when you get a chance.”
“Savin...” Jazz didn’t pull his hand away, instead slipping his hand under Savin’s scrubs. He leaned in closer to the older man, breathing against his neck. “I can’t just leave you like this.”
He felt Savin shiver underneath his hand and his lips as he, too, began to trace small shapes into Savin’s skin with his tongue. It didn’t matter that his father was in the hospital room next to them, he hadn’t had a moment to even contact the man in front of him, no matter how much he had wanted to. Now that he had Savin breathing heavily in his ear, stifled moans escaping him, how could he possibly leave?
A knock on the caused the both of them to jump away from one another, Jazz’s face burning with embarrassment as he heard someone call his name through the door. “Prince Jasper? Are you alright in there, sir?”
“I’m fine!” Jazz answered, hoping that his voice didn’t shake nearly as much as it felt like it did, in his throat. “Dr. Bates and I are just about finished with our conversation. I should be only a few more minutes.”
“You have a call waiting for you, sir. From the Western colonies.”
“Damnit,” Jazz hissed under his breath, rolling his eyes to himself. Savin raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise remained quiet. “Tell them I’ll be right with them,” he called through the door. He then turned back towards Savin, standing on his toes to press another kiss to Savin’s lips. “I’ll text you after I’m done with them, okay?” he whispered as he pulled away.
Savin nodded, his green eyes searching Jazz’s own. “And...?” he prompted, cupping Jazz’s cheek.
“I’ll make sure to get you on my dad’s personal medical team,” Jazz continued, offering Savin a reassuring smile as he placed his hand on top of Savin’s. “I promise.”
When Savin smiled back, Jazz’s heart skipped a beat for the first time.
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