Pension Sinclair
#23 of Hockey Hunk Season 2
Rory wakes up to a Saturday with Peter...
Hello, and welcome to the latest chapter of "I'm Still With the Hockey Hunk!"
I'd like to thank everyone for your thoughtful feedback on the previous chapters. The story has reached many people deeply during these past weeks, and I am quite glad that the story has made an impact on so many. Thank you, guys! I hope that the story will be compelling in the upcoming chapters as well. I have interesting plans.
As always, your comments are very welcome. Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well.
Have a good read,
cheers!
*
I was roughly pulled into the world of the living by the incessant beep of Peter's drug alarm going off. I opened my weary eyes and saw Peter, sleeping by me in the double bed, already at work to find the alarm and turn it off. I yawned jaw-crackingly and scratched my belly and took my surroundings, while Peter flopped back down to the bed and turned to look at me. Mr. Heartbear sat on the pillow by his head. Peter looked tired, and at least he was smiling a little, as we regarded one another.
"Morning," I smiled, leaning my head on a palm, to prop myself up in a relaxed pose.
"Hey," Peter replied, watching me intently from his side of the bed.
"Do you need me to get the pills?" I asked him.
Peter's ears flicked as he gave a quick nod.
"If you could, please, and some water."
"Sure."
I forced myself off the bed and headed out for the kitchen, zombie-walking along with my big, nice tail trailing the ground, as I yawned again, snuffled and ruffled my mane a little, like I liked to do when I woke up, and padded along my way. I felt tired, and the memories of last night were still more than fresh in my mind, as I reached the kitchen and began to rummage for a glass and the box of pills, with those little compartments for the drugs you had to take at a certain time.
It wasn't the first time I had seen Peter have an anxiety attack, they had happened before, when Peter was really sick, but I don't think I could ever get used to something like that happening almost without a warning. The idea of something like that happening to me was scary, I had to admit that much, I had to think while I ran water into a glass and picked up the pill box and headed back to bedroom. Peter had gotten himself up to a sitting position on the bed, so it was only a simple matter to hand him the glass and the pills. I laid down on the bed as well, stretching out a little, and relaxing again. There was nowhere else I was needed at the moment, but here, so I should just take it easy, just like Peter should do today, he needed the rest, both from the injury and the emotional trauma of having to go to the ER again. I could understand as much, I didn't much like the place, Peter had been rushed there enough times with severe medical problems, and I was there too, on that horrible rainy day, when everything ended.
"Thanks, Rory," Peter said as he opened the little compartment and tipped over the box to administer himself the correct number of pills.
"No problem," it was time to scratch my chest now, and I did, my tail flipping a little from the simple feline pleasure. "Do you want me to start breakfast?"
Peter pushed a pawful of pills into his maw and washed them down with the glass of water before he placed both the glass and the pill box down to the nightstand and then lay down again, relaxing on his own right, and turning to look at me, curiously.
"I'd like to lie down for a little while still, if that's okay? Are you hungry?"
I smiled, a little.
"Not really yet," I replied, honestly. "Maybe in half an hour."
"Half an hour sounds good," Peter smiled.
"It does," I smiled.
Peter adjusted his posture and in that, collided with the rustling Mr. Heartbear, which drew his attention. Peter's ears flicked rapidly as he maneuvered the plastic-wrapped bear over to his chest and put one arm around it to hold it in place while he lay on his side and watched me, snuggling the bear. I gave him a soft, little smile.
"How're you Rowreeh?"
I flicked an ear at him.
"I'm good," I rubbed my chin. "How are you?"
Peter shrugged.
"Leg isn't bad," he said, "might want to take a Vicodin at some point but it's okay. I just popped a Valium so repeat performances of last night should not occur, I hope. I'm sorry about that."
I reached out with my paw to lay it over Peter's closest arm, the one resting across his chest and Mr. Heartbear, and gave him a soft squeeze.
"Don't worry," I replied. "I understand."
"I'm sad you do," Peter replied with a frown.
I repeated my squeeze.
"But I do," I said with a firm expression, that seemed to satisfy Peter, who nodded again.
"Thank you," Peter spoke quietly.
I smiled again.
"It's what I'm here for, right?" I put my teeth to my smile, briefly. "Helping you out, right? Hugs, massages, making breakfast, helping you stand when you take a leak..."
"I'll wipe my own ass though thankyou," Peter interrupted, with a mischievous smirk spread over his lips, despite the deadpan voice.
I snuffled roughly, and smiled, and purred a little, happily.
"No matter how much I like your ass, I won't go near it, I promise," I mimicked Peter's tone.
Peter snuffled.
"A man's gotta have some pride left to him, even at the times of weakness," he said and scratched his nose, causing the cellophane-dressed bear to rustle in that familiar way.
"Sure," I smiled.
Peter rested again.
"I promise not to freak you out today, though, is that ok?" Peter spoke.
"Don't even mention it," I replied, just a little firm, to make sure that he knew that I didn't think that dwelling on last night was going to do much good to either of us. "I'll see what happens, like I always do."
Peter gave me a curt nod.
"Okay," he replied, "that's fine. I can do that."
"Good."
I yawned again, letting the world see my tonsils, briefly, before I was back to normal.
"Anything particular you want to do today?" I asked Peter.
Peter snuffled.
"I'm now a cripple, I think that we can rule out the romantic stroll in the morning air and then popping out for a trendy café au lait followed by anal sex," he related.
My eyes widened a little at the sheer outrageousness of Peter's comment, but I was smiling, too, and soon I snuffled, and then chuckled, and then grinned, and in general, ended up feeling quite nice, under my belly, once I was done. Peter even purred a little when he smiled back to me.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Rowreeh," Peter replied, still snuffling.
I flicked my ears sharply.
"You're hardly ever a disappointment," I said.
"Glad you think so, Rowreeh," he replied.
I couldn't do anything but smile.
*
Once our banter died out, and my bladder required me to visit the bathroom, it was definitely time for me to make us some breakfast. First I helped Peter to go to the bathroom and dress, before I propped him up with his computer, so that he had something fun to do while I worked in the kitchen. I even put a blanket over him on the couch before I lifted the computer over his lap, much to Peter's chucking amusement.
"I didn't know that I was this badly off," he watched me with a crooked smile.
"You just lie there and wait to be pampered, alright?" I snuffled, my tail flicking now a little, as well, having finally woken up. "What would you like to have?"
"Coffee and cereal, like always, I'd hope," Peter replied. "And maybe some toast. I got groceries yesterday so there's a lot of choices in the fridge. There's some bacon too."
"I think I'll have coffee and some fruit," I replied, not feeling too hungry yet.
"Sure," Peter replied, already turning his eyes to the computer screen.
I smiled once more and headed out to the kitchen.
*
"Was there anything funny on the news?" I asked as I poured coffee into Peter's mug, set in front of him on his usual side of the table, where I had just helped him to settle down.
"Not really," Peter replied, his whiskers shaking as he drew a deep coffee breath in, smiling broadly. "Just the usual."
"Well, it's Saturday, they're allowed to be quiet," I smiled, pouring myself a mugful as well before I took the pot back to the coffee maker and then sat down.
"I like quiet," Peter mused, stirring his coffee.
I put a little milk into my coffee and let the white streak swirl into the blackness of the mug, enjoying the simple task of preparing my favorite drink, just the way it should be.
"I like it too," I smiled.
"This kind of quiet, I mean," Peter replied, watching me across the table.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Peter waved his paw across the table laden with breakfast.
"You, me, peaceful, quiet, gentle, smiling, snuffling?" Peter suggested.
I chuckled.
"Yeah, this is a very good quiet."
"And nice to have some company too," Peter mused.
For me, it was the second morning in a row with gentleman company, now that I thought about it. Last morning it was Victor, exciting, new, handsome, masculine Victor, in my apartment, sharing coffee with me after a night of debauchery. This morning it was Peter, familiar, soft-scented, soft-lipped Peter, in his home, where I was needed, and who relied on me for today, so that he could rest. Such different roles I had to play that it was quite fascinating for me.
Here, I was a friend, and a gentle presence, and support, for Peter. For someone who was sick for so long, he did very poorly with being sick, or, as it was now, confined to rest. I suppose that after being so ill for so long and then being cured as much as you could ever be called cured after that surgery, he had been well, and fine, and now...another setback, if only a minor one, so I could very well understand why he didn't enjoy being treated like he was, as if he was again in need of constant care. It didn't surprise me that it made him feel uneasy.
And then there had been Victor...the Dobie who sparked my curiosity, sexually, and in other ways as well, and made me feel interesting things. I wanted to see him again, and I wanted to kiss him, and have sex with him, and I wanted to talk with him, to find out more things we could talk about, together. I wanted a lot of things, and everything was quite new and interesting, tentative, yes, perhaps, but it was there...that want, for more, a little bit more, at least. I wasn't sure how much more, but when could you be sure?
I really shouldn't have been dwelling on it so much, anyway. I was here to be with Peter, to be here for him, and make the best out of that.
I smiled broadly.
"It's nice to have some company, it sure is."
"Heheh, Rowreeh."
*
"Let's watch something cheerful," Peter declared, after we had channel-surfed between various boring Saturday afternoon programming for quite some time, sprawled on his couch.
"What do you want to watch?" I asked him, preparing to head out to the shelf containing Peter's DVD's, to pop in the movie he wanted.
"Aliens," Peter mused after a moment of ear-scratching. "It's in the complication box, the green one."
I snuffled as I got up and wandered over to browse the DVD collection.
"So very cheerful, "I chuckled, tracing the backs of the DVD covers with a finger. "So very, very cheerful."
"It's a classic!" Peter exclaimed. "Besides, it still looks great after 25 years."
"Well it's not quite Avatar but I know where you're going with that," I smiled, finally locating the box and taking out the disc which I when popped into the DVD player.
I settled down next to Peter while he operated the remote and skipped past all the selections to start the movie.
"Ohh, this used to be the top movie to secretly watch when we were cubs, wasn't it?" Peter mused as the ethereal music flowed and the darkness of space became more and more foreboding. "This and...whatever we had back then."
"The Thing," I blurted.
Peter snickered.
"And that, from a very old VHS," he chuckled. "Not a movie a 10-year-old cub should see."
"Neither is this, though."
"This isn't quite as bad...but only just."
"I liked Batman," I suggested after a couple of minutes of silence upon watching the movie progress.
Peter gave me look.
"Do you mean the camp one or the Tim Burton one?"
I elbowed him, softly.
"Everyone loves the camp one," I 'corrected' him, with a cheerful ear flick to go with it. "But you're right, I loved the one with Jack Nicholson as The Joker."
"Well it was the darkest thing around back in...what...1990?"
"Something like that."
My ears jumped when I heard my phone ring, in the guest room, and so did Peter's.
"I'll...go and get that," I said as I got off the couch.
"Want me to pause the movie?" Peter waved his paw at the screen where some chest-bursting was definitely about to occur.
"It's fine, it probably won't take long," I flashed him a smile, and then hurried to the guest room, where my phone laid on the bed, abandoned the night before, but now flashing and singing cheerfully.
I picked up my phone and immediately felt a jolt of surprise and excitement when I saw that it was Victor calling. My tail made a quick loop, and couldn't help but smile, despite all the stresses of the past night, and then put the phone over my ear.
"Hello?" I greeted, quietly.
"Hi, Rory!" Victor's voice managed to sound sufficiently booming even over the phone.
"Hi, Victor," I replied, still speaking very softly. "How're you?"
"Oh, I'm great, thanks! Cobb went out for a little while so I thought I'd seize the opportunity and give you a call and ask you how you're doing!"
Victor sounded so enthusiastic that it almost made me guilty to listen to it, considering how mellow I was feeling at the moment. The good feeling from spending the night with Victor was still there, of course it was, but there was also the lingering unease from last night, keeping me slightly less buoyant than I would've probably been if this was just an ordinary Saturday.
"I'm okay, thanks, and you definitely sound like you're okay."
"I've no complaints," Victor replied. "Even Cobb's behaving, hehe."
I snuffled a little.
"Heheh."
"Oh! How's your friend doing?"
I rubbed the back of my neck as I walked around the guest room, trying to put my thoughts into words.
"It wasn't anything serious at all in the end," I started, "I mean, I was asked to come to the hospital last night and it sounded like it was really bad ,but I guess the nurse was exaggerating a bit with it to make sure I would come there quickly. It was just a sprain, but my friend...uhh...Peter...has to stay off his paw for a couple of days, so I offered to help him out with cooking and stuff, for the weekend."
"It's good to hear that your friend's fine, and that everything's going to be alright," Victor replied.
"Yeah, it's going to be fine, it's just that he doesn't really like being in bed all day, so we'll just have to try to come up with a lot of stuff to do, like...hehe, we're just about to watch Aliens," I narrated.
Victor laughed in that familiar, roughly rumbling way.
"Hahah, that's one way to spend a Saturday!"
"Yeah," I smiled, and hoped that my voice was smiling too.
"And I can't say that the idea of spending whole Saturday in bed is a bad one, if it's for the right purpose," Victor spoke then, his voice definitely taking onto that low, nice, fur-tingling tone that I knew him to be able to produce, under the right circumstances.
"Heheh, of course."
"And..uhh...hope we might find out at some point, maybe, eh, Rory?" Victor sounded very hopeful when he made his latest addition.
I took a deep breath, and smiled to myself.
"Sure, uh...it would be really nice, "I replied, truthfully, of course. "At some point."
"Well, as soon as we get Cobb out of the way, eh?" Victor chuckled.
"Yeah," I rubbed the back of my neck again, for it felt like it prickled there, uneasily, and my tail swung from side to side. "That might be problem otherwise."
"Next weekend, maybe?" Victor said.
"Yeah, maybe," I mused. "We'll see, okay?"
"Eh...sure, yeah, Rory, I'd like that."
"Great."
"So...have a good weekend, and I'll...see you around?"
"Sure, Victor, I'd like that. Give my best to Cobb."
Wasn't I just being evil?
"Uh...you sure about that?"
"You make the decision," I snuffled. "Goodbye, Victor."
"Bye, Rory."
I took a deep breath and stared at the phone for a little moment before I pocketed it and then headed back to the living room. Peter was still as I had left him, propped to a corner of the couch, under the blanket, and watching how Ripley was having some great fun with an exoskeleton.
"Did I miss anything fun?" I said enthusiastically as I flopped down and scooted up close to the seated cougar.
Peter chuckled and batted me with his tail.
"Just a few hallucinations and corporate assholeness, nothing much," Peter grinned.
"That's great," I replied, putting an arm over the backrest of the couch, like was proper in a situation like this, when you watched a movie with someone you could cuddle with.
On screen, some marines were lining up.
"Rowreeh?"
"Yeah?" my ears perked as I turned to face Peter.
"Can I ask you who Victor is?"
*
Here we go! Another chapter!
Any comments?
Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well.
Thank you for reading, and a cheerio!