Gray Morning Rewrite -- Chapter 4
If you're reading Gray Morning for the first time, previous chapters can be found here:
1 | 2 | 3
He wasn’t. The next morning, it wasn’t just Savin’s hands that seemed to be off. When Jazz climbed out of bed to attend the first of many meetings that day, Savin struggled to do the same. Savin moved slowly, as if every action caused him some brief flare of pain if he moved too quickly.
“You alright?” Jazz asked, raising an eyebrow as Savin shuffled into the kitchen. He watched as the older man reached for a bowl to pour cereal in; saw the way Savin’s fingers didn’t want to quite wrap around the edge of the bowl.
“Yeah,” Savin answered, his eyes flicking in Jazz’s direction before refocusing on the bowl in front of him. “Just a little stiff this morning. Been a while since I really slept and got some rest, y’know?”
Jazz nodded, sitting down at the small kitchen table. He turned his attention to his own breakfast -- which he could have had brought up to him from the kitchens, but today, he wanted something simple: His own bowl of cereal stared back at him, spoon taunting him to start eating soon before the milk made everything too soggy. “You seeing Mari today or tomorrow?” Jazz asked, looking up from his food.
Savin looked up from his own bowl, turning towards Jazz as he stashed the cereal box away in the cabinet. “Yeah, I’m seeing her today,” he said, making his way over to the table and sitting down himself. The action was slower than usual, more calculated. “You have to go to the colonies today, anyway, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Jazz answered, clearing his throat. He tried not to focus on the idea of Savin and Mari being alone for however long. “I have to make an address there, tonight. I should be back sometime tomorrow morning.”
Savin nodded, then gave Jazz a slow, sensual smile. “Wake me up when you get back?” he asked, picking up his own spoon. Jazz could have sworn he saw the spoon shake, just slightly. “I’m sure I’ll still be asleep when you walk in.”
Jazz raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to do what I think you are?” he said in between bites of his own food. When he felt Savin’s foot crawl up his leg like he had roughly a week ago in the restaurant, Jazz just let out a quiet laugh and shook his head.
“Of course,” Savin answered, grinning as he pulled his foot away. “It’s been a week -- and I’m off work until the end of this one. Plenty of time for us to have some fun together...”
Jazz just rolled his eyes good-naturedly, smiling at Savin as he finished his meal and placed it in the sink. “I’m gonna head out,” he said, leaning down and pressing his lips to Savin’s forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As Jazz tried to pull away from him, Savin grabbed Jazz by his tie and pulled him in for a proper kiss. Savin’s lips lingered on top of his own before he cupped the side of Jazz’s face, pushing the kiss a little deeper. “Love you,” Savin whispered as he pulled away from Jazz. “Have a safe trip, okay?”
Jazz’s smile just widened as he heard the warmth in Savin’s voice. He nodded. “Of course,” he said, nodding his head as he picked up his suit jacket. “Love you, too.”
With that said, Jazz picked his suit jacket up off of his chair and slung it over his shoulders. As he made his way out the door, he tried to refocus his attention on work and not on Savin’s kiss. It almost felt as though Savin were back to his normal self.
The next twenty-four hours of waiting to see his husband again were going to be long ones.
***
“So my father wants me to become Chief of Surgery,” Savin said, picking a limp fry off of Mari’s plate. The two of them sat at a local bar, one without many bells and whistles. A local band played in the background, their vocals rough and their chord progression even rougher. Savin thanked whoever above that their equipment seemed to not be working properly as the music came to an abrupt stop. Instead of watching the band, though, his eyes have been just about anywhere else -- on Mari, on the television screens displaying the sport du jour, the bartender.
A part of him replayed the night he and Jazz first met. He and Mari were sitting in this same booth, and she happened to point out the blond man to Savin. She always was a good wingman. Even tonight, she had a habit of pointing out the attractive ones to him -- both male and female.
Christ, had he missed her.
Mari raised an eyebrow. “I remember you two talking about that at the wake, yesterday,” she said, folding her arms on top of the table and leaning forward. She wore a low cut top, one Savin had to keep averting his eyes from all evening. “Why don’t you take it? You’re a good surgeon.”
“One of the best there is,” Savin grumbled, as if the title were something disgraceful to him. “I’m even better than my father.”
“Hajime is the best in that hospital --”
“And my numbers are better than his,” Savin said, pulling out his phone. “I can prove it to you, if you’d like -- Father didn’t exactly appreciate seeing the numbers, either, last month.”
He handed his phone over to Mari, where he had a picture displayed. She plucked the phone from his fingers and glanced at it, her brow furrowing as she caught her bottom lip under her teeth. “Holy shit.”
“I know.”
“Savin -- that’s a damn near perfect record,” she said, putting his phone back down on the table. She tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. “How the hell did you swing that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like trauma was especially light that month or anything like that, I just --” He sighed, shaking his head again as he took a swing of his scotch. “I guess I’ve just been needing the distraction.”
Mari looked up from her plate, raising an eyebrow yet again. “A distraction from what?” she asked, keeping her voice low. The band’s equipment seemed to kick back on at just that moment, flooding the bar with their awful attempt at covering much, much better music. “You and Jazz aren’t having problems, are you...?”
Savin shook his head, leaning across the table to keep his voice low, as well. “It has nothing to do with Jazz -- he and I are fine,” he said, relief flooding him. He glanced up at the television screen and wished his hand wouldn’t hurt like that as he unfurled his fingers from around his glass. Jazz should be making a speech right about now -- or was that in a couple of more hours? He could never figure out the time differences well... “It’s the Empire.”
Mari frowned. “You’re worried about the Resistance or whatever it is.”
Savin nodded, sitting all the way back in his seat, his shoulders slumped. He frowned. “The Guard actually follows me everywhere, now, too,” he said, still keeping his voice low enough for only Mari to hear. “I used to have a bit more freedom, but now --” He glanced around the bar, noticing one or two people in street clothes who seemed almost out of place. “I don’t really have any at all -- except when I’m at the hospital.”
“Do they think the Resistance is gonna go after you?” Mari asked, her frown deepening. She pushed her plate aside and towards Savin. He simply lifted his hand and shook his head. “You’d think they’d go after Jazz, considering --”
“I know, but -- obviously the whole Empire knows he and I are married. I have that stupid fucking title and everything,” Savin said, running his fingers through his hair and brushing it out of his eyes. “I’m just as important to the Empire as he is -- considering I’m the most important person to him.”
Mari nodded, chewing on her bottom lip as she picked up her beer and tossed it back. “Are you sure it was even safe for you to come out with me tonight, then?”
Savin shrugged his shoulder. “Look, I haven’t seen you in months -- and really, the biggest thing I have to worry about are the tabloids thinking that this is more than what it is,” he said, gesturing between the two of them. “I mean, okay. We were engaged, once. But that was years ago.”
Mari snorted, shaking her head. “I’m so glad we didn’t go through with that,” she said, smiling wryly at him. “We would have been horrible for one another.”
“I know, right?” Savin asked, cracking a smile himself. “Poor Jazz is still so jealous, though --”
“Like you aren’t jealous of his ex, too,” Mari said, pointing at him with the hand that was still wrapped around her beer. “I almost wanted to smack Jazz, actually, yesterday. Like, seriously? I practically set the two of you up -- he should be thanking me.”
Savin just shook his head. “Look -- just because I don’t like Mitchel, doesn’t mean I’m jealous of the bastard,” he said, his smile disappearing from his face. “The man is a downright asshole.”
“Whatever you say, Savin,” Mari said, smirking at him knowingly over the edge of her bottle. She glanced around the bar, her eyes focusing at some point above them. “Hey, did Jazz have to give a speech tod -- oh my god.”
“What?” Savin asked, turning to follow Mari’s gaze. The television screens had all changed from the game they were displaying, the “Breaking News!” banner scrolling across the bottom of the screens. With it scrolled an additional two words:
Emperor Shot.
Savin pushed himself out of the booth, his phone already up to his ear as several men and women approached him, deep frowns on their faces. He immediately recognized them as members of the Imperial Guard and slipped his phone back in his pocket. “How is he?” he asked, his voice wavering as he spoke.
“He wants to see you,” said the woman standing in front. Dark shades covered her eyes, her skin nearly the same color as her black glasses. “Please, come with us.”
“Go,” Mari said, putting a light hand on Savin’s shoulder. “Call me when you can, okay?”
Savin nodded, turning to face the Imperial Guard once more. “Lead the way, I guess,” he said grimly, shoving his hands inside his pockets.
There was no way he was going to let anyone see how bad they were shaking, after all.
Next Chapter
1 | 2 | 3
He wasn’t. The next morning, it wasn’t just Savin’s hands that seemed to be off. When Jazz climbed out of bed to attend the first of many meetings that day, Savin struggled to do the same. Savin moved slowly, as if every action caused him some brief flare of pain if he moved too quickly.
“You alright?” Jazz asked, raising an eyebrow as Savin shuffled into the kitchen. He watched as the older man reached for a bowl to pour cereal in; saw the way Savin’s fingers didn’t want to quite wrap around the edge of the bowl.
“Yeah,” Savin answered, his eyes flicking in Jazz’s direction before refocusing on the bowl in front of him. “Just a little stiff this morning. Been a while since I really slept and got some rest, y’know?”
Jazz nodded, sitting down at the small kitchen table. He turned his attention to his own breakfast -- which he could have had brought up to him from the kitchens, but today, he wanted something simple: His own bowl of cereal stared back at him, spoon taunting him to start eating soon before the milk made everything too soggy. “You seeing Mari today or tomorrow?” Jazz asked, looking up from his food.
Savin looked up from his own bowl, turning towards Jazz as he stashed the cereal box away in the cabinet. “Yeah, I’m seeing her today,” he said, making his way over to the table and sitting down himself. The action was slower than usual, more calculated. “You have to go to the colonies today, anyway, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Jazz answered, clearing his throat. He tried not to focus on the idea of Savin and Mari being alone for however long. “I have to make an address there, tonight. I should be back sometime tomorrow morning.”
Savin nodded, then gave Jazz a slow, sensual smile. “Wake me up when you get back?” he asked, picking up his own spoon. Jazz could have sworn he saw the spoon shake, just slightly. “I’m sure I’ll still be asleep when you walk in.”
Jazz raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to do what I think you are?” he said in between bites of his own food. When he felt Savin’s foot crawl up his leg like he had roughly a week ago in the restaurant, Jazz just let out a quiet laugh and shook his head.
“Of course,” Savin answered, grinning as he pulled his foot away. “It’s been a week -- and I’m off work until the end of this one. Plenty of time for us to have some fun together...”
Jazz just rolled his eyes good-naturedly, smiling at Savin as he finished his meal and placed it in the sink. “I’m gonna head out,” he said, leaning down and pressing his lips to Savin’s forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As Jazz tried to pull away from him, Savin grabbed Jazz by his tie and pulled him in for a proper kiss. Savin’s lips lingered on top of his own before he cupped the side of Jazz’s face, pushing the kiss a little deeper. “Love you,” Savin whispered as he pulled away from Jazz. “Have a safe trip, okay?”
Jazz’s smile just widened as he heard the warmth in Savin’s voice. He nodded. “Of course,” he said, nodding his head as he picked up his suit jacket. “Love you, too.”
With that said, Jazz picked his suit jacket up off of his chair and slung it over his shoulders. As he made his way out the door, he tried to refocus his attention on work and not on Savin’s kiss. It almost felt as though Savin were back to his normal self.
The next twenty-four hours of waiting to see his husband again were going to be long ones.
***
“So my father wants me to become Chief of Surgery,” Savin said, picking a limp fry off of Mari’s plate. The two of them sat at a local bar, one without many bells and whistles. A local band played in the background, their vocals rough and their chord progression even rougher. Savin thanked whoever above that their equipment seemed to not be working properly as the music came to an abrupt stop. Instead of watching the band, though, his eyes have been just about anywhere else -- on Mari, on the television screens displaying the sport du jour, the bartender.
A part of him replayed the night he and Jazz first met. He and Mari were sitting in this same booth, and she happened to point out the blond man to Savin. She always was a good wingman. Even tonight, she had a habit of pointing out the attractive ones to him -- both male and female.
Christ, had he missed her.
Mari raised an eyebrow. “I remember you two talking about that at the wake, yesterday,” she said, folding her arms on top of the table and leaning forward. She wore a low cut top, one Savin had to keep averting his eyes from all evening. “Why don’t you take it? You’re a good surgeon.”
“One of the best there is,” Savin grumbled, as if the title were something disgraceful to him. “I’m even better than my father.”
“Hajime is the best in that hospital --”
“And my numbers are better than his,” Savin said, pulling out his phone. “I can prove it to you, if you’d like -- Father didn’t exactly appreciate seeing the numbers, either, last month.”
He handed his phone over to Mari, where he had a picture displayed. She plucked the phone from his fingers and glanced at it, her brow furrowing as she caught her bottom lip under her teeth. “Holy shit.”
“I know.”
“Savin -- that’s a damn near perfect record,” she said, putting his phone back down on the table. She tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. “How the hell did you swing that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like trauma was especially light that month or anything like that, I just --” He sighed, shaking his head again as he took a swing of his scotch. “I guess I’ve just been needing the distraction.”
Mari looked up from her plate, raising an eyebrow yet again. “A distraction from what?” she asked, keeping her voice low. The band’s equipment seemed to kick back on at just that moment, flooding the bar with their awful attempt at covering much, much better music. “You and Jazz aren’t having problems, are you...?”
Savin shook his head, leaning across the table to keep his voice low, as well. “It has nothing to do with Jazz -- he and I are fine,” he said, relief flooding him. He glanced up at the television screen and wished his hand wouldn’t hurt like that as he unfurled his fingers from around his glass. Jazz should be making a speech right about now -- or was that in a couple of more hours? He could never figure out the time differences well... “It’s the Empire.”
Mari frowned. “You’re worried about the Resistance or whatever it is.”
Savin nodded, sitting all the way back in his seat, his shoulders slumped. He frowned. “The Guard actually follows me everywhere, now, too,” he said, still keeping his voice low enough for only Mari to hear. “I used to have a bit more freedom, but now --” He glanced around the bar, noticing one or two people in street clothes who seemed almost out of place. “I don’t really have any at all -- except when I’m at the hospital.”
“Do they think the Resistance is gonna go after you?” Mari asked, her frown deepening. She pushed her plate aside and towards Savin. He simply lifted his hand and shook his head. “You’d think they’d go after Jazz, considering --”
“I know, but -- obviously the whole Empire knows he and I are married. I have that stupid fucking title and everything,” Savin said, running his fingers through his hair and brushing it out of his eyes. “I’m just as important to the Empire as he is -- considering I’m the most important person to him.”
Mari nodded, chewing on her bottom lip as she picked up her beer and tossed it back. “Are you sure it was even safe for you to come out with me tonight, then?”
Savin shrugged his shoulder. “Look, I haven’t seen you in months -- and really, the biggest thing I have to worry about are the tabloids thinking that this is more than what it is,” he said, gesturing between the two of them. “I mean, okay. We were engaged, once. But that was years ago.”
Mari snorted, shaking her head. “I’m so glad we didn’t go through with that,” she said, smiling wryly at him. “We would have been horrible for one another.”
“I know, right?” Savin asked, cracking a smile himself. “Poor Jazz is still so jealous, though --”
“Like you aren’t jealous of his ex, too,” Mari said, pointing at him with the hand that was still wrapped around her beer. “I almost wanted to smack Jazz, actually, yesterday. Like, seriously? I practically set the two of you up -- he should be thanking me.”
Savin just shook his head. “Look -- just because I don’t like Mitchel, doesn’t mean I’m jealous of the bastard,” he said, his smile disappearing from his face. “The man is a downright asshole.”
“Whatever you say, Savin,” Mari said, smirking at him knowingly over the edge of her bottle. She glanced around the bar, her eyes focusing at some point above them. “Hey, did Jazz have to give a speech tod -- oh my god.”
“What?” Savin asked, turning to follow Mari’s gaze. The television screens had all changed from the game they were displaying, the “Breaking News!” banner scrolling across the bottom of the screens. With it scrolled an additional two words:
Emperor Shot.
Savin pushed himself out of the booth, his phone already up to his ear as several men and women approached him, deep frowns on their faces. He immediately recognized them as members of the Imperial Guard and slipped his phone back in his pocket. “How is he?” he asked, his voice wavering as he spoke.
“He wants to see you,” said the woman standing in front. Dark shades covered her eyes, her skin nearly the same color as her black glasses. “Please, come with us.”
“Go,” Mari said, putting a light hand on Savin’s shoulder. “Call me when you can, okay?”
Savin nodded, turning to face the Imperial Guard once more. “Lead the way, I guess,” he said grimly, shoving his hands inside his pockets.
There was no way he was going to let anyone see how bad they were shaking, after all.
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