Seize the Day - NaNoWriMo Attempt - Chapter 11
Haven't written yet today, but I finished this chapter yesterday, soooo. Here it is. :) Hopefully I can write at least another 1-1.5k today... (Though I doubt it. It's been kind of a shit day).
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Savin frowned, glancing at his phone as he wandered the hospital hallways. He should have headed home hours ago, but he had offered to cover someone else’s shift in order to keep a better eye on Emperor Callahan. Sighing, he put the phone away as he noticed no new messages from Jazz.
Emperor Callahan would need a decision from him, soon. And while Savin already had consent from the Emperor himself for any medical procedures, Savin would prefer to get consent from Jazz, as well, just in case. Cover his bases, and all that. Savin knew, though, that Jazz likely wouldn’t be able to respond to him in a timely manner. Not with him trying to run the Empire in his father’s absence and all.
Savin made his way back to the Emperor’s room, hands placed in the pockets of his lab coat. If he did this surgery, it would have to be sooner rather than later, and not used as a last resort. The nurses mentioned that Callahan’s condition hadn’t improved any in the past few hours. He had a fever that came and went whenever it pleased, and the pain never seemed to lessen.
Callahan hadn’t had any visitors yet that day, either. Or at least, none that Savin had been made aware of. As he neared the room, however, he heard voices arguing just outside Callahan’s room. Savin’s brow furrowed for a moment as he noticed a man older than himself standing in front of the Guard. The man’s dress was impeccable, his suit perfectly tailored to fit his body.
“Excuse me, sir,” Savin said, clearing his throat. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as the man turned to face him. Savin noticed then that the man’s hair was graying, probably prematurely, judging by the lack of obvious lines on the man’s face. “May I help you?”
“Ah, yes, Doctor,” the man said, his voice smooth as he turned on his heel. He regarded Savin oddly, his nose slightly turned up in the air. “I need to speak with the Emperor.”
“Emperor Callahan has requested he has no visitors today, other than his son,” Savin said, standing a few feet from the other man. He pulled his hands from his pockets and kept his hands loosely at his sides. “His condition makes visitors inadvisable from a medical standpoint, as well.”
The man’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he pursed his lips together in thought, looking away from Savin. “It’s of utmost importance that I speak with him immediately. I’d contact Prince Jasper, but he’s currently --”
“In the Western Colonies, dealing with a diplomatic issue,” Savin finished for him, dropping all pretense of politeness. “Believe me, sir --”
“Councilor Foraker.”
Savin paused, his mouth hanging open for a moment before he closed it again and shook his head. “Believe me, Councilor. I am aware of how difficult Ja -- Prince Jasper is to get into contact with, at times. But Emperor Callahan has requested no visitors aside from his son, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Foraker’s brow knit together for a moment, his features softening somewhat as he tweaked the knot of his tie. “You’re Dr. Bates, aren’t you?” he asked, a sly smile suddenly playing on his lips.
“Yes, I am,” Savin answered, frowning. “Dr. Savin Bates. My father works here, too. What’s your point?”
“Nothing,” Foraker muttered, shaking his head. He slipped his hands in his pockets, approaching Savin slowly. He didn’t stop until they were only a foot or two apart. Savin resisted backing away from the man and lifted his chin. “If I understand things correctly -- you were just about to call Prince Jasper ‘Jazz,’ just now, correct?” Foraker continued, keeping his voice low.
Savin tensed, but didn’t look away from the man, either. “And if I was...?”
“Nothing,” Foraker said again, backing away from Savin. He regarded Savin again, his eyes trailing along the length of Savin’s body, as if he were sizing him up. “I suppose you do fit his type...” he murmured, that smile back on his lips. “Be careful of your -- attraction to the Prince. Emperor Callahan isn’t very understanding of his son’s sexuality.”
Savin furrowed his brow, giving Foraker a confused look. “Who said anything about Prince Jasper’s sexuality?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“I did,” Foraker answered, only one half of his lips twisting upward, now. “Dating the Emperor’s son while treating the Emperor himself is risky behavior for a doctor, isn’t it?”
Savin tried to keep his expression neutral, but couldn’t contain his wince. “I don’t regard Emperor Callahan as family, so no. I first met the man when he was wheeled into my operating room, and I’ve known Prince Jasper for less than a week. Now -- I’m going to ask you to leave, Councilor Foraker. Please.”
Foraker frowned, slipping his hands inside his pockets. Savin couldn’t help noticing that they were impeccable, as well, just like Foraker’s dress. “Only a week, hm?” he asked. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less from Prince Jasper.” He shook his head and moved in close to Savin. “Tell me, Dr. Bates -- how good was he, the night you two met?”
Savin rolled his eyes and backed away from Foraker, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Councilor,” he muttered as he stepped around the older man. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on Emperor Callahan’s condition.”
“I think you know exactly what I mean, Dr. Bates,” Foraker said, still keeping his voice low. “If you’ll do me a favor and bring the Emperor a message for me?”
“I’m sorry, but if it’s related to the Empire, you might want to contact Prince Jasper, instead,” Savin said, continuing forward without so much as glancing at Foraker over his shoulder. “Emperor Callahan really isn’t in any condition to be making any decisions regarding his Empire -- Prince Jasper is in charge for a reason, Councilor.”
Just as he began to push the door to Emperor Callahan’s room open, he glanced over his shoulder. Foraker openly glared at him, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together in a sneer. Savin’s stomach clenched, anger bubbling in his chest as he continued to move forward.
As he turned his head away and forced one of his best, reassuring smiles, he heard Foraker’s footsteps retreat to down the hallway. Relief flooded him, but only for a moment as he then turned to Emperor Callahan’s chart and the record of his vitals.
“Are you still okay with the idea of surgery, Emperor Callahan?” Savin asked, his voice level and every bit as professional as he could manage.
“My son...?”
“He hasn’t responded to my texts yet,” Savin answered, swallowing thickly. “As long as you feel that you’re lucid enough to undergo surgery...” His phone buzzed in his pocket, causing him to furrow his brow. “Excuse me, one moment,” he said, making his way back out of the hospital room.
The Guard all glanced in his direction, and Savin ignored them as he pulled out his phone. Relief hit him once again as he noticed Jazz’s name on the screen. “Hello?” he said, keeping his voice level as he spoke.
“How is he?” Jazz’s voice, loud and clear, on the other end. “You sent me a text a few hours ago -- is he still...?”
“His infection isn’t clearing up like I’d hoped, not even with the targeted antibiotics,” Savin answered, trying to sound as professional as possible. “I’m still waiting on the cultures to come back, to determine what kind of strain of bacteria it is. Now, there is another option -- I can go in and surgically clean the site of the infection.”
“How risky is the procedure?” Jazz asked, worry clearly coming through in his voice. “If it wouldn’t pose more risk than sitting and waiting would, then I say do it.”
Savin nodded, running his fingers through his hair for a moment. “Alright, then,” he murmured into the phone. “I’ll have him prepped for surgery in less than an hour, and I’ll go ahead and do the procedure myself, just so that I can ensure the quality of it. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes,” Jazz answered. “Anyway, I have to go. My meetings have just started and I’ll be here all day. Text me if anything changes, okay?”
“Alright. Bye, Prince Jasper.” Savin hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
As he walked back into the Emperor’s room, resolve strengthened him, pushed him forward. He paged a few nurses and approached the Emperor himself with caution. “Your son just approved of the surgery, Emperor Callahan,” Savin said, another small smile on his lips.
Callahan nodded, his lips twisted in a pained grimace. He didn’t need to say anything -- the pained look in his eyes and the hope for relief behind it were more than apparent.
***
Jazz collapsed onto his hotel room bed, his head swimming with all of the information he had received from the various meetings with the Western Colonies. He ran his fingers through his hair, raking his nails across his scalp and let out a quiet, tired groan.
How the hell did his father do this every day? How the hell did anyone expect him to just up and immediately fix any of the issues going on anywhere within the Empire? Jazz hadn’t even gotten around to presenting his proposal for fixing their economic issues. And why would he, when the meetings were even filled with more pomp and circumstance than Council meetings, back home.
Home. He wouldn’t be back for at least another day or two. And something nagged at the back of his mind, tickling him and making it difficult for him to focus on just how soft the bed was. Sighing, Jazz pulled out his phone. There was one message from Savin, a new one. Surgery went well. There was a *lot* of infection hidden inside the surgical site. Father’s condition improved, just a little. Fever still not broken.
That’s good, Jazz sent back, chewing on his lip as he tried to calculate just how late it was, back in the Capital. Did Alexandra stop by, today? he asked, not knowing whether he’d even get an answer at that time of night.
After a moment, Jazz tossed his phone aside and picked up one of his books out of his suit case. As he flipped the book open, he did all that he could to focus on the words on the page and finding himself unable to. The words blurred together, making his eyes cross. As much as he wanted to relax before going to bed that night, he wasn’t sure he’d really be able to.
Despite how tired he was, he kept trying to read the words on the page, focusing all of his energy to keep the words from blurring together. It was either read, or go over his notes from the meetings that day while he waited for Savin’s response. If Savin would even response, considering they were nearly half a day ahead of him. Jazz tried to figure out the time difference in his head, but found himself unable to do that, as well.
Just as his eyes were beginning to close without his consent, his phone chirped. Jazz jumped, then reached up to snatch his phone off the little night stand. As he unlocked it, he saw that he had a message from Savin. No, Alexandra didn’t stop by. Someone else tried to visit him, though. Councilor Foraker?
Jazz bit his lip. Why would Mitchel want to see his father? If there was something wrong with the Empire, Mitchel should have contacted him, not gone to his dad. What did Mitchel want? he typed back, hoping the name wouldn’t confuse Savin at all. What did he say? he sent as well moments later, sucking on his bottom lip in thought.
Wanted to talk to your father about something to do with the Empire. Told him to go to you. I guess he never did? Savin sent back moments later. Can you call me? Would prefer to talk over the phone.
Jazz sighed, glancing at the clock. He didn’t want Savin to hear just how exhausted he was, but it would be easier to talk over the phone than it would to keep sending texts back and forth. It’d be faster, too. He dialed Savin’s number and placed his phone to his ear, leaning back against the pillows as it rang.
“Hey,” Savin answered. There was a warmth to his voice, one that gave Jazz a little bit of energy.
“Hey,” Jazz said back, trying to sound more energetic than he felt. “So what else did Mitchel want?”
“I guess he wanted to see how your father was doing? I don’t really know,” Savin said, exasperation lacing his voice. “Did you talk to him about us? He -- said some things that implied he knew we -- y’know.”
Jazz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he frowned to himself in thought. “Mitchel’s -- er,” he paused, clearing his throat. “He’s my ex,” he said after a while.
“...Oh.”
“Yeah,” Jazz murmured, clearing his throat again. “We broke up about a week ago, he thinks he can work out the problems we were having, I don’t really think it’ll work because he’s so fucking focused on keeping up appearances and hiding our relationship from everyone, and --”
“Ah, I see,” Savin said, his voice sounding oddly choked. “I guess that’s why he didn’t contact you, then, even after I told him to yesterday. So -- I guess you told him about us, then?”
“I told him I slept with someone else. He wanted a name,” Jazz answered, rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d go and try to visit my dad at the hospital. The two of them don’t really get along.”
“I don’t think anyone can get along with that asshole,” Savin grumbled into the phone. “Seriously, the guy was a dick to me -- before he realized who I was.”
“He’s -- a lot different when he’s not trying to put on a show for everyone,” Jazz said, wincing. “He is actually capable of human emotion, I swear.”
“I guess,” Savin said with a sigh. “Hopefully he won’t come around again. He also said something about your dad not being comfortable with your sexuality...?”
“Dad is aware I’m gay,” Jazz said, choosing his words carefully and slowly. He paused, trying to think of what to say next. “It’s not that he’s not comfortable, it’s just that he thinks in the long term. And if I’m gay, the whole heirs issue gets kinda iffy. So he keeps pushing me to find a woman to produce children with while having male partners on the side,” he said with a snort. “No thank you.”
“Hah, I like women, but yeah, I’m with you,” Savin said, chuckling quietly into the phone. “Children and I do not mix. I like kids, but I don’t want any of my own, y’know? That’s too much responsibility, and I work really fucking weird hours, and I pity the woman who thinks I’d make great dad material.”
Jazz snickered into the phone. He relaxed against the pillows again and closed his eyes. “How’s my father doing?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. It was good to know, at least, where Savin stood on having children.
“I haven’t swung by the hospital yet,” Savin answered. “I haven’t received any emergency pages or phone calls about his condition, however, and my father is working with him today. Trust me, if Father found an issue with Emperor Callahan’s treatment, he’d let me know.”
“Is he a surgeon, too?” Jazz asked. The bed started to feel more and more comfortable by the minute, and he could feel his body slowly give in to sleep. Still, he didn’t want to stop talking to Savin. This was the longest conversation they’d had since they met -- at least, it was the longest conversation they’d had without sexual overtones to it.
“Yeah,” Savin said, a hard note to his voice. “The man’s kind of a legend in the surgical world.”
“I see,” Jazz whispered, frowning to himself. “Well, that’s good, then. He’d be able to see things you miss, if you’ve missed anything, right?”
“I don’t know about that, anymore,” Savin murmured into the phone. Jazz could hear him sigh, as well. “I mean, the man knows what the hell he’s doing when he’s got a knife in his hand, but -- his track record with patient care after that hasn’t been what it used to be. But, god forbid if I let him know I think he’s slipping, a little bit...”
“Yeah.” Jazz paused, biting his lip and glancing around the room. He yawned and stretched, his back cracking as he did so. “So you think you got all of the infection with the surgery?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
“I do,” Savin said. “You sound exhausted, Jazz. Why don’t you go ahead and get some sleep? I’m sure you’ve had a long fucking day.”
Jazz smiled into the phone. “But I wanted to talk to you,” he said, feeling his face heat up a tiny bit at the admission.
There was a pause on the other end. Had he flustered the older man? He heard Savin laugh quietly into the phone. “There’ll be more time to talk, I promise,” he said after a moment, amusement lacing his voice. “Good night, Jazz.”
“Good night, Savin.” Jazz hung up the phone and tossed it back on the nightstand. He rubbed his eyes for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. As he reached up to turn the light off, he felt another soft smile stretch across his face.
He hoped he would talk to Savin again, soon.
Next Chapter
Previous Chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
Savin frowned, glancing at his phone as he wandered the hospital hallways. He should have headed home hours ago, but he had offered to cover someone else’s shift in order to keep a better eye on Emperor Callahan. Sighing, he put the phone away as he noticed no new messages from Jazz.
Emperor Callahan would need a decision from him, soon. And while Savin already had consent from the Emperor himself for any medical procedures, Savin would prefer to get consent from Jazz, as well, just in case. Cover his bases, and all that. Savin knew, though, that Jazz likely wouldn’t be able to respond to him in a timely manner. Not with him trying to run the Empire in his father’s absence and all.
Savin made his way back to the Emperor’s room, hands placed in the pockets of his lab coat. If he did this surgery, it would have to be sooner rather than later, and not used as a last resort. The nurses mentioned that Callahan’s condition hadn’t improved any in the past few hours. He had a fever that came and went whenever it pleased, and the pain never seemed to lessen.
Callahan hadn’t had any visitors yet that day, either. Or at least, none that Savin had been made aware of. As he neared the room, however, he heard voices arguing just outside Callahan’s room. Savin’s brow furrowed for a moment as he noticed a man older than himself standing in front of the Guard. The man’s dress was impeccable, his suit perfectly tailored to fit his body.
“Excuse me, sir,” Savin said, clearing his throat. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as the man turned to face him. Savin noticed then that the man’s hair was graying, probably prematurely, judging by the lack of obvious lines on the man’s face. “May I help you?”
“Ah, yes, Doctor,” the man said, his voice smooth as he turned on his heel. He regarded Savin oddly, his nose slightly turned up in the air. “I need to speak with the Emperor.”
“Emperor Callahan has requested he has no visitors today, other than his son,” Savin said, standing a few feet from the other man. He pulled his hands from his pockets and kept his hands loosely at his sides. “His condition makes visitors inadvisable from a medical standpoint, as well.”
The man’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he pursed his lips together in thought, looking away from Savin. “It’s of utmost importance that I speak with him immediately. I’d contact Prince Jasper, but he’s currently --”
“In the Western Colonies, dealing with a diplomatic issue,” Savin finished for him, dropping all pretense of politeness. “Believe me, sir --”
“Councilor Foraker.”
Savin paused, his mouth hanging open for a moment before he closed it again and shook his head. “Believe me, Councilor. I am aware of how difficult Ja -- Prince Jasper is to get into contact with, at times. But Emperor Callahan has requested no visitors aside from his son, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Foraker’s brow knit together for a moment, his features softening somewhat as he tweaked the knot of his tie. “You’re Dr. Bates, aren’t you?” he asked, a sly smile suddenly playing on his lips.
“Yes, I am,” Savin answered, frowning. “Dr. Savin Bates. My father works here, too. What’s your point?”
“Nothing,” Foraker muttered, shaking his head. He slipped his hands in his pockets, approaching Savin slowly. He didn’t stop until they were only a foot or two apart. Savin resisted backing away from the man and lifted his chin. “If I understand things correctly -- you were just about to call Prince Jasper ‘Jazz,’ just now, correct?” Foraker continued, keeping his voice low.
Savin tensed, but didn’t look away from the man, either. “And if I was...?”
“Nothing,” Foraker said again, backing away from Savin. He regarded Savin again, his eyes trailing along the length of Savin’s body, as if he were sizing him up. “I suppose you do fit his type...” he murmured, that smile back on his lips. “Be careful of your -- attraction to the Prince. Emperor Callahan isn’t very understanding of his son’s sexuality.”
Savin furrowed his brow, giving Foraker a confused look. “Who said anything about Prince Jasper’s sexuality?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“I did,” Foraker answered, only one half of his lips twisting upward, now. “Dating the Emperor’s son while treating the Emperor himself is risky behavior for a doctor, isn’t it?”
Savin tried to keep his expression neutral, but couldn’t contain his wince. “I don’t regard Emperor Callahan as family, so no. I first met the man when he was wheeled into my operating room, and I’ve known Prince Jasper for less than a week. Now -- I’m going to ask you to leave, Councilor Foraker. Please.”
Foraker frowned, slipping his hands inside his pockets. Savin couldn’t help noticing that they were impeccable, as well, just like Foraker’s dress. “Only a week, hm?” he asked. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less from Prince Jasper.” He shook his head and moved in close to Savin. “Tell me, Dr. Bates -- how good was he, the night you two met?”
Savin rolled his eyes and backed away from Foraker, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Councilor,” he muttered as he stepped around the older man. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on Emperor Callahan’s condition.”
“I think you know exactly what I mean, Dr. Bates,” Foraker said, still keeping his voice low. “If you’ll do me a favor and bring the Emperor a message for me?”
“I’m sorry, but if it’s related to the Empire, you might want to contact Prince Jasper, instead,” Savin said, continuing forward without so much as glancing at Foraker over his shoulder. “Emperor Callahan really isn’t in any condition to be making any decisions regarding his Empire -- Prince Jasper is in charge for a reason, Councilor.”
Just as he began to push the door to Emperor Callahan’s room open, he glanced over his shoulder. Foraker openly glared at him, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together in a sneer. Savin’s stomach clenched, anger bubbling in his chest as he continued to move forward.
As he turned his head away and forced one of his best, reassuring smiles, he heard Foraker’s footsteps retreat to down the hallway. Relief flooded him, but only for a moment as he then turned to Emperor Callahan’s chart and the record of his vitals.
“Are you still okay with the idea of surgery, Emperor Callahan?” Savin asked, his voice level and every bit as professional as he could manage.
“My son...?”
“He hasn’t responded to my texts yet,” Savin answered, swallowing thickly. “As long as you feel that you’re lucid enough to undergo surgery...” His phone buzzed in his pocket, causing him to furrow his brow. “Excuse me, one moment,” he said, making his way back out of the hospital room.
The Guard all glanced in his direction, and Savin ignored them as he pulled out his phone. Relief hit him once again as he noticed Jazz’s name on the screen. “Hello?” he said, keeping his voice level as he spoke.
“How is he?” Jazz’s voice, loud and clear, on the other end. “You sent me a text a few hours ago -- is he still...?”
“His infection isn’t clearing up like I’d hoped, not even with the targeted antibiotics,” Savin answered, trying to sound as professional as possible. “I’m still waiting on the cultures to come back, to determine what kind of strain of bacteria it is. Now, there is another option -- I can go in and surgically clean the site of the infection.”
“How risky is the procedure?” Jazz asked, worry clearly coming through in his voice. “If it wouldn’t pose more risk than sitting and waiting would, then I say do it.”
Savin nodded, running his fingers through his hair for a moment. “Alright, then,” he murmured into the phone. “I’ll have him prepped for surgery in less than an hour, and I’ll go ahead and do the procedure myself, just so that I can ensure the quality of it. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes,” Jazz answered. “Anyway, I have to go. My meetings have just started and I’ll be here all day. Text me if anything changes, okay?”
“Alright. Bye, Prince Jasper.” Savin hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.
As he walked back into the Emperor’s room, resolve strengthened him, pushed him forward. He paged a few nurses and approached the Emperor himself with caution. “Your son just approved of the surgery, Emperor Callahan,” Savin said, another small smile on his lips.
Callahan nodded, his lips twisted in a pained grimace. He didn’t need to say anything -- the pained look in his eyes and the hope for relief behind it were more than apparent.
***
Jazz collapsed onto his hotel room bed, his head swimming with all of the information he had received from the various meetings with the Western Colonies. He ran his fingers through his hair, raking his nails across his scalp and let out a quiet, tired groan.
How the hell did his father do this every day? How the hell did anyone expect him to just up and immediately fix any of the issues going on anywhere within the Empire? Jazz hadn’t even gotten around to presenting his proposal for fixing their economic issues. And why would he, when the meetings were even filled with more pomp and circumstance than Council meetings, back home.
Home. He wouldn’t be back for at least another day or two. And something nagged at the back of his mind, tickling him and making it difficult for him to focus on just how soft the bed was. Sighing, Jazz pulled out his phone. There was one message from Savin, a new one. Surgery went well. There was a *lot* of infection hidden inside the surgical site. Father’s condition improved, just a little. Fever still not broken.
That’s good, Jazz sent back, chewing on his lip as he tried to calculate just how late it was, back in the Capital. Did Alexandra stop by, today? he asked, not knowing whether he’d even get an answer at that time of night.
After a moment, Jazz tossed his phone aside and picked up one of his books out of his suit case. As he flipped the book open, he did all that he could to focus on the words on the page and finding himself unable to. The words blurred together, making his eyes cross. As much as he wanted to relax before going to bed that night, he wasn’t sure he’d really be able to.
Despite how tired he was, he kept trying to read the words on the page, focusing all of his energy to keep the words from blurring together. It was either read, or go over his notes from the meetings that day while he waited for Savin’s response. If Savin would even response, considering they were nearly half a day ahead of him. Jazz tried to figure out the time difference in his head, but found himself unable to do that, as well.
Just as his eyes were beginning to close without his consent, his phone chirped. Jazz jumped, then reached up to snatch his phone off the little night stand. As he unlocked it, he saw that he had a message from Savin. No, Alexandra didn’t stop by. Someone else tried to visit him, though. Councilor Foraker?
Jazz bit his lip. Why would Mitchel want to see his father? If there was something wrong with the Empire, Mitchel should have contacted him, not gone to his dad. What did Mitchel want? he typed back, hoping the name wouldn’t confuse Savin at all. What did he say? he sent as well moments later, sucking on his bottom lip in thought.
Wanted to talk to your father about something to do with the Empire. Told him to go to you. I guess he never did? Savin sent back moments later. Can you call me? Would prefer to talk over the phone.
Jazz sighed, glancing at the clock. He didn’t want Savin to hear just how exhausted he was, but it would be easier to talk over the phone than it would to keep sending texts back and forth. It’d be faster, too. He dialed Savin’s number and placed his phone to his ear, leaning back against the pillows as it rang.
“Hey,” Savin answered. There was a warmth to his voice, one that gave Jazz a little bit of energy.
“Hey,” Jazz said back, trying to sound more energetic than he felt. “So what else did Mitchel want?”
“I guess he wanted to see how your father was doing? I don’t really know,” Savin said, exasperation lacing his voice. “Did you talk to him about us? He -- said some things that implied he knew we -- y’know.”
Jazz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he frowned to himself in thought. “Mitchel’s -- er,” he paused, clearing his throat. “He’s my ex,” he said after a while.
“...Oh.”
“Yeah,” Jazz murmured, clearing his throat again. “We broke up about a week ago, he thinks he can work out the problems we were having, I don’t really think it’ll work because he’s so fucking focused on keeping up appearances and hiding our relationship from everyone, and --”
“Ah, I see,” Savin said, his voice sounding oddly choked. “I guess that’s why he didn’t contact you, then, even after I told him to yesterday. So -- I guess you told him about us, then?”
“I told him I slept with someone else. He wanted a name,” Jazz answered, rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d go and try to visit my dad at the hospital. The two of them don’t really get along.”
“I don’t think anyone can get along with that asshole,” Savin grumbled into the phone. “Seriously, the guy was a dick to me -- before he realized who I was.”
“He’s -- a lot different when he’s not trying to put on a show for everyone,” Jazz said, wincing. “He is actually capable of human emotion, I swear.”
“I guess,” Savin said with a sigh. “Hopefully he won’t come around again. He also said something about your dad not being comfortable with your sexuality...?”
“Dad is aware I’m gay,” Jazz said, choosing his words carefully and slowly. He paused, trying to think of what to say next. “It’s not that he’s not comfortable, it’s just that he thinks in the long term. And if I’m gay, the whole heirs issue gets kinda iffy. So he keeps pushing me to find a woman to produce children with while having male partners on the side,” he said with a snort. “No thank you.”
“Hah, I like women, but yeah, I’m with you,” Savin said, chuckling quietly into the phone. “Children and I do not mix. I like kids, but I don’t want any of my own, y’know? That’s too much responsibility, and I work really fucking weird hours, and I pity the woman who thinks I’d make great dad material.”
Jazz snickered into the phone. He relaxed against the pillows again and closed his eyes. “How’s my father doing?” he asked, hoping to change the subject. It was good to know, at least, where Savin stood on having children.
“I haven’t swung by the hospital yet,” Savin answered. “I haven’t received any emergency pages or phone calls about his condition, however, and my father is working with him today. Trust me, if Father found an issue with Emperor Callahan’s treatment, he’d let me know.”
“Is he a surgeon, too?” Jazz asked. The bed started to feel more and more comfortable by the minute, and he could feel his body slowly give in to sleep. Still, he didn’t want to stop talking to Savin. This was the longest conversation they’d had since they met -- at least, it was the longest conversation they’d had without sexual overtones to it.
“Yeah,” Savin said, a hard note to his voice. “The man’s kind of a legend in the surgical world.”
“I see,” Jazz whispered, frowning to himself. “Well, that’s good, then. He’d be able to see things you miss, if you’ve missed anything, right?”
“I don’t know about that, anymore,” Savin murmured into the phone. Jazz could hear him sigh, as well. “I mean, the man knows what the hell he’s doing when he’s got a knife in his hand, but -- his track record with patient care after that hasn’t been what it used to be. But, god forbid if I let him know I think he’s slipping, a little bit...”
“Yeah.” Jazz paused, biting his lip and glancing around the room. He yawned and stretched, his back cracking as he did so. “So you think you got all of the infection with the surgery?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
“I do,” Savin said. “You sound exhausted, Jazz. Why don’t you go ahead and get some sleep? I’m sure you’ve had a long fucking day.”
Jazz smiled into the phone. “But I wanted to talk to you,” he said, feeling his face heat up a tiny bit at the admission.
There was a pause on the other end. Had he flustered the older man? He heard Savin laugh quietly into the phone. “There’ll be more time to talk, I promise,” he said after a moment, amusement lacing his voice. “Good night, Jazz.”
“Good night, Savin.” Jazz hung up the phone and tossed it back on the nightstand. He rubbed his eyes for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. As he reached up to turn the light off, he felt another soft smile stretch across his face.
He hoped he would talk to Savin again, soon.
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