Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Company belong to JK Rowling. No money was made writing this bit of fiction.
Pairing: Damon/Grant
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Damon helps Grant when his hormones get the best of him.
Warnings: kitchen sex, language
AN: Set Spring of 2001, this is a bit more introduction to the newest character, Richard Montgomery, coming to Echo as well as some insight in to Fleymann's. Damon and Grant have been learning and trying to adjust to Grant's condition for about fifty years. It wasn't until recently that some one had actually decided to specialize in a condition that few people knew about or understood.
Doctor Feelgood
Damon stopped at the mailbox on his way into the drive, pulling out the envelopes and magazines. He dumped the entire load on the seat beside him and continued up the drive, separating the bills, junk mail and magazines out. He parked next to Grant's Mustang, gathering up the mail as he turned off the truck. Stopping to grab his jacket and looking down at the Wizarding Medical Journal on the top of the pile, he groaned as he read one blurb across the bottom of the cover.
Seasonal Gestation in conjunction with the Equinoxes and Solstices provide new information and aid in Fleymann's patients. Study by Doctor Richard Montgomery.
'Shit', he thought as he opened the door to the truck. His whole night would be shot if Grant saw the magazine. He debated leaving the thing in the truck but knew the little man would ask for it. Grant always tried to keep up with everything new for his practice and his doctors.
Damon rolled up the magazine instead and put it on the bottom of the pile, placing his American Iron on top of everything. He jogged up the back steps and opened the kitchen door, grinning at the smells of Grant's cooking. "Hey, Pet. Please tell me that's cornbread I smell."
Grant smiled as he looked up from the food he was cooking. "It is. It's been awhile since I made any for you and thought it would be good tonight. We're having pork chops as well," he said as he walked over to Damon, a small piece of buttered cornbread in his hand to feed the other man. "Want a bite?"
Damon nodded and opened his mouth, bending down to accept the still hot and smoking from the oven treat. He closed his eyes and hummed as he chewed. "Brown beans, fried potatoes and ramps too? Merlin, that's good Grant." He swallowed the bite and pressed a kiss to Grant's mouth. "I picked up the mail. There's an article on Harley's new cycle; The V-Rod, in American Iron."
Grant nodded as he looked on in approval of Damon's reaction. "What does the new cycle look like? I've read a few things about it and it sounds interesting," Grant said as he went back to the stove, checking the food before sitting down at the small table. "Anything come for me?"
Damon grinned. "I haven't looked at it yet but it's inspired by the VR-1000 racing cycle. New frame and engine built especially for this new design." He tossed the pile of mail down onto the table and sat down. Separating out the junk mail again, he tossed it to the kitchen trashcan. "Some bills and one of them gardening magazines. You decided where you want me to till up the ground this year?"
"Same place as last year I suppose, we just need to haul in some manure to work into the ground. Did my seed catalogue come?" Grant asked as he reached for the bills, opening the electric bill and frowning. "We're going back to candles."
Damon lifted up a few of the magazines, holding the WMJ to the back of his motorcycle magazine and passed the Burpee's catalogue to his husband. "It can't be that bad, we used the fireplaces alot this year and I put in new insulation as well." He reached out for the bill. "I'll head on to Wal-Mart later for the bags of manure. You need anything else?"
Grant shook his head and passed the bill over to Damon, any time the amount was three digits and started with a two, it was too much. "Did my journal come?"
Damon dropped the magazines and straightened them as he looked at the bill, ignoring Grant's question. "This ain't too bad. This is a big old house to heat and cool, Pet. I'll get out the checkbook for you later."
"Maybe we should look into an apartment in town, we can't afford to pay bills like this," Grant muttered as he opened his catalogue. "Do you want okra this year?"
Damon arched an eyebrow. "Move into town? Are you insane?" He flipped open his magazine and read the table of contents. "You really want to give up our privacy and your garden because of a light bill? I am not moving to town." He shook his head and picked up the magazine, flipping back to the article about the V-Rod. "Sure why not, just don't go overboard on the tomatoes this year."
Grant laughed as he remembered the days of canning all the tomatoes last summer. "We still have plenty from last year. Did my journal come?"
Damon shook his head. "Good, then just get one or two of the beefsteaks and maybe a cherry tomato. I like to pick those off the vine when I am going back out to the barn." He ignored Grant's question again as he set his magazine down, the WMJ under it. "How long til supper is done? Do I have time for a shower?" He stood, curling the two periodicals together in his hand before sticking them under his arm.
Grant narrowed his eyes at his husband and then shrugged. "It's ready whenever you want to eat. Go take a shower if you want. I'd like to go to Wal-Mart with you, if you don't mind."
Damon nodded and bent to place a kiss on his husband's head. "Alright, we'll go after we eat, sound good to you? Want to shower with me?" He bent even lower and nuzzled Grant's ear, nibbling on the soft flesh with his teeth. "Missed you today."
Grant growled low in his throat, it was early spring and he was starting to feel its effects on his body. "Do you trust me not to ravage your body?" he teased as he got to his feet, going to the stove and shutting everything off.
Damon grinned at his little husband. "I think I can handle you. It's still fairly early in the day." he snuggled up to Grant's back and wrapped his arms around him, nicking a potato from the frying pan and shoving it in his mouth.
Grant grinned and tugged his shirt up a little to reveal his back to the other man. "Still certain?" he teased.
Damon stepped back and ran a hand over Grant's back, his fingers playing on the edges of the white patch of skin that was just beginning to darken. He knew he'd made the right choice not giving the other man the WMJ just yet. "Yeah, I can always handle you. It's only just beginning to darken." He bent and pressed a kiss to the spot, running his tongue over the discoloured skin gently. "Mmm, you taste almost as good as dinner."
Grant turned in Damon's arms and leaned up on his tiptoes to give the man a kiss. "Could we stop at the bookstore on our way out of town?"
Damon nodded. "Certainly," he murmured against Grant's lips before deepening the kiss. He set the magazines on the counter and wrapped his arms around Grant, pulling him flush against his body.
Pulling back from the kiss, Grant picked up the motorcycle magazine curiously; wanting to see the new cycle Damon had spoken of, freezing as he spotted his medical journal under Damon's magazine. "Why didn't you tell me it came?" he asked as he looked up at Damon.
Damon groaned softly and closed his eyes. "Oh, was it hiding under there?" he said jovially. He opened his eyes and reached for his little husband and the magazine. "Come on, we need to shower and get on the road."
Grant held tight to his magazine, reading the cover and then quickly flipping through the pages to find the article that was mentioned. "You hid it from me," he muttered as he skimmed over the article, a look of disgust and hatred contorting his elfin features. "This guy is such a... an ass."
Damon rubbed his face and reached over Grant's head to the cabinet, pulling down a plate. He began filling his plate, knowing they would never leave the house now. He scooped up some potatoes, ramps and beans before stabbing a pork chop from the other plate. "Why? What has he done now?" he asked as he grabbed a fork and a knife. "You want me to fix you a plate?"
He set his own plate on the table and reached into the fridge for the pitcher of tea. "Want some tea?" he murmured trying to keep the tone normal like nothing had happened and everything was going to be all right.
Seeming to not have heard a word Damon said, Grant began to pace back and forth in the kitchen as he reread the article closely. "That bastard. Listen to this Damon...' it has been found that seasonal changes trigger the fertility cycles in men afflicted with Fleymann's. The early signs are an increase in appetite, a need for physical contact; the drive for procreation is enhanced...' Can you believe this guy? I mean really," he snarled as he pulled a plate of his own down and slung food onto it.
Damon arched an eyebrow, watching Grant load the plate with a large pile of potatoes and beans. He poured a glass of tea for his husband and sighed. "Well, it seems to be fairly accurate." He sat down at his place and picked up his knife. "Like always," he muttered. "Will you bring the cornbread with you?"
"Are you on his side?" Grant snorted as he practically tossed the cast iron skillet of corn bread onto the table following it with his plate of food. "It says men with Fleymann's become irrational and irritable during the seasonal changes. What a load of horse shit."
Damon cleared his throat and moved his plate out of the way as the skillet bounced on the table. "Thank you, Pet." He watched the little man for a moment. "I never said I was on his side, baby, but his information has always been accurate before. I don't think this article is any different."
He cut into his pork chop and dipped it in the bean juices. "Calm down now, I won't have you throwing a damned fit here at the table. Sit down and eat." he shoved the bit of food into his mouth and arched an eyebrow at his husband then looked at his chair.
Growling, Grant crumbled the magazine and threw it into the trashcan before sitting down at the table, stabbing at his food. "That man just makes me furious."
Damon sighed and reached across the table for Grant's hand. "You say that every time he publishes something on Fleymann's, Grant. It's obvious he knows what he's doing, Pet, otherwise you wouldn't get so upset. Am I right?" he squeezed Grant's hand. "If he's helping someone then why the fuss?"
"He has the scruples of a hyena, Damon. He goes after people and badgers them until he gets the information he wants," Grant said hotly, stabbing his fork into his potatoes. "It borders on unethical if you ask me."
"He goes after people or they call on him and don't like how he works?" Damon eyed his little husband as he bit into a cube of corn bread. "If it was unethical then someone would put a stop to him, don't you think?"
"Why are you defending him?" Grant asked as he pushed his plate away. "I'm not hungry anymore. I'm going to go take a bath." He stood, taking his plate to the sink where he scraped it and let it fall to the counter with a clatter.
Damon stood, walked over to his husband and wrapped his arms around the small man. "I'm not, not really. But can you honestly tell me that his information is not accurate? That everything he has printed is made up of whole cloth?" he laid his head on top of Grant's and sighed. "I didn't mean to upset you, Grant, but I think you are being too judgmental about this man. He hasn't done anything to you."
"Yeah, what he publishes is correct, but there are things that just shouldn't be made open to the public," Grant said softly, willing his irritation down. "It's bad enough that we're looked at like freaks of nature, but to have him talk about us as if we are some sub specie of human is just too much."
Damon nodded. He'd gone back and read some of the articles after Grant had thrown his fits. They were filled with medical jargon that he didn't quite understand but he did recognize some of the signs that Grant had displayed and had used some of the examples the doctor had given on Grant. To his surprise, the suggestions had worked and he hadn't let Grant know. He had to get his information somehow; the little man was so damned secretive about his health sometimes.
"Well, I'm going to play devil's advocate again, Pet, so don't bite my head off. Do you think Max may have used any of this information to help you? Do you think any other doctors are using this information to help patients?"
"Probably," Grant admitted grudgingly. "I still don't like it and I hope I never meet the man, I'm liable to slap the smug look off his face." The small doctor hated admitting that Doctor Montgomery's research was spot on in nearly everything. He grew up feeling like this was a secret to be hid, not something to be used for a journal publication.
Damon snorted and rubbed Grant's back as he led him back to the table. He sat down and pulled Grant on to his lap. "Well, then don't call him. He's just trying to make his way in the world like everyone else." Personally he'd like to meet the man, just to pick his brain and see exactly how much he could find out from him. He forked up some beans and offered them to his husband.
"Here, try and eat a bit more. You are going to need your strength for later. Did you still want to go shopping?" Damon smiled at the little man and stroked him under his shirt, his fingers gracing over the small patch of skin on Grant's back.
Grant sighed as he looked down at the fork. "I ate something earlier. Sure, we can go shopping," he said, hoping Damon wasn't going to ask what he ate; he didn't want to own up to it. He let himself relax in the man's arms and closed his eyes for a moment.
Damon ate the beans and eyed his little husband, continuing to hold him and think about the bit of the article Grant had read to him. He'd dig the magazine out later and read over it to see if the man's information could provide him with anything else to help his husband. "I suppose but I would still like you to eat something more than just chocolate, sunflower seeds, and Diet Coke, Pet." he offered him a bit of the pork chop.
Grant turned his face away from the food, muttering, "I ate the dessert," as he did so.
Damon set his fork down and picked up his tea, taking a long drink before saying anything. "You ate all my dessert?"
Saying nothing, Grant closed his eyes and nodded. He didn't want to tell the man what it had been; he'd already scrubbed the dishes in hopes Damon would never find out.
Damon sighed and pressed a kiss to Grant's hair. "Well, I hope you don't get a stomach ache from whatever it was that I didn't get any of. Did you make me something else to eat for dessert?" He forked up some potatoes and beans, shoving them into his mouth as he adjusted Grant on his lap to once again lean against his chest.
"A baked apple," Grant said under his breath. A baked apple was nothing compared to the entire French silk pie he'd inhaled earlier. "Are you mad at me?"
Damon sighed and pursed his lips. "No, I suppose not. I deserve the apple after getting the fried taters and chops." He finished off his ramps and corn bread then took a drink of his tea. "I want to get some soft serve while we are out though." He grinned at his little husband.
Grant grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of Damon's face, the scent of chocolate surrounding him. "Good, because I had made a French silk pie... but I ate it."
Damon's eyes widened as he pulled away from his little husband. "You ate a whole French silk pie? Merlin's balls Grant. You don't get any ice cream when we go. Nothing else sweet for you tonight. It's a wonder you even popped off about the article with as much chocolate feel good you got running through you." He shook his head and sighed. "I don't know what I am going to do with you sometimes."
Grant shrugged, wriggling off Damon's lap and going to the silverware drawer for one of his peanut butter cups he had stashed there. "I know, I'm horrible. You should beat me," he grinned as he popped two of the candies in his mouth and chewed happily.
Damon stood and took his plate to the sink. Turning, he grabbed Grant's chin and looked into his dark eyes. "I meant it, Injun. No more sweets tonight or I really will beat you and I can guarantee it you will not enjoy it." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the full mouth, not closing his eyes as he did so. "You worry me sometimes eating those sweets like that."
Swallowing, Grant whimpered softly and nodded. "Yes Sir. I'm sorry, but it just feels like I have to eat it," he said as he rinsed the plates and then went to clear the table, the whole time fighting the urge to eat another chocolate.
Damon eyed the little man for a moment. "If you can eat the chocolate then you can have real food first. You aren't a child Grant and know this as well as I do. Does Max know you have these cravings?"
Grant looked up at Damon. "I had two chicken salad sandwiches and a salad for lunch, does that count?" he asked. "I've told him, but he doesn't think anything of it."
"That was before you ate the entire pie, right?" Damon shook his head at Grant. "What am I going to do with you, little one?" he smiled at his husband.
Grant nodded, venturing a smile for his husband. "Yes and I had a huge breakfast as well." It didn't matter how much he hated, it seemed that during his fertile cycles, he'd eat non-stop if he could and gain maybe five pounds by the end of the three-week period. Absentmindedly, he picked up one of the pork chops he was wrapping up and began to gnaw at it.
"You'll need a forklift before long with my fat ass," Grant muttered as he realized he was eating again.
Damon arched an eyebrow. "A little more meat on your bones would be nice to see," he chuckled and nodded to the trash bin. "I think you ought to look at that article again and just see if the man has anything to say on your cycles," he said softly.
Scrunching his nose up and making a face, Grant shook his head. "That idiot can't write anything about my fat ass that I don't already know," he sneered as he glared at the trash can. "I'm eating because my body has kicked my metabolism up into high gear thinking it's going to get bred."
Damon frowned and sighed, knowing he couldn't win with the little man. "All right. I'd like it if you would try to eat some thing more than just the sweets, my Own but I do understand." He bent and kissed Grant. "Get your list, I know you've got one somewhere and we'll go shopping. I'll take my shower and such when we get back."
Holding the pork chop up in one hand, Grant raised an eyebrow at Damon. "Does this look like it's coated in chocolate?" he asked as he began to gnaw on it once again. He nodded towards the refrigerator where his list was kept clipped by a magnet. "There's the list."
The little man eyed Damon before he spoke again. "It's mostly junk food."
Damon arched an eyebrow. "Look I know you are feeling a bit... unlike yourself," he said diplomatically. "But that's no reason to be... sarcastic." Yeah, those were good terms to substitute and he continued on unfazed. "Am I going to be getting any of this junk food or am I expected to follow along with the supposedly better for me diet?"
Grant started to open his mouth and then paused at the gentle warning that had been in his husband's voice. "I'll try to be better. I suppose you can have some of the food," he said, opening up the kitchen door and throwing the bone from the pork chop out into the yard for one of the cats. "I'm ready whenever you are."
"Only some, huh?" Damon chuckled and grabbed the list off the clip. "Thank you for being so gracious, Your Highness. I'll try not to overdose on peanut butter cups, Diet Coke and ..." He frowned. "The Cake? You know you can't just go pick that up at the store." He smirked at his husband, shaking his head in amusement. "Sneaky. You are a sneaky one, aren't you?"
Grant grinned sheepishly at his husband, wrapping his arms around the man's waist and rubbing his face over Damon's chest. "Actually, what I really want is a bowl full of the icing. Would you make it for me?" he asked as he placed a kiss over Damon's heart and looked up at the man with what he was hoping were pleading eyes.
Damon smiled down at Grant, his eyes dancing with contained laughter. "You think I am so easy, don't you?"
"I'll do anything for it," Grant purred and batted his big brown eyes at his husband. "Anything at all." He let his hands caress the other man's ass as he smiled seductively.
Damon chuckled. "Oh, I know you will. I know you will." He bent and pressed his mouth to Grant's, his hands running down Grant's back pulling the other man closer to his body.
"Will you make it for me?" Grant begged softly as he rubbed his body against the front of Damon's, his hands still kneading and squeezing the other man's ass cheeks.
Damon gave a great put upon sigh. "I might... tomorrow after you've gone into the office." He grinned at his little husband and smacked his bottom. "You still want to shop?"
"Gone into the office?" Grant murmured in confusion. There was no way he was going into the office the way he was feeling, his patients wouldn't know what to expect from him.
Damon smiled at his little husband. "You know I can't make The Cake while you are in the house. It's in the recipe that only one person can be in the vicinity." He kneaded Grant's bottom and rubbed against him slowly.
"I'll stay in the bedroom," Grant breathed, his pupils dilating, his nostrils flaring and his body responding to Damon. "I promise."
Damon watched his little husband and shook his head. "We've already established you are one sneaky Injun of the first order, so, I don't believe you." He picked Grant up, locking his fingers together under Grant's bottom to support him. Leaning in, Damon nuzzled Grant's neck. "What else you got?"
"Chain me to the bed," Grant breathed, wrapping his legs around Damon's waist and tucking his face in the crook of his husband's neck. "Chain me down and charm a dildo to keep me busy."
Damon hummed. "Oh, I like that. I like that a lot, but if I do that then I can't make icing and watch you at the same time. And I most definitely would have to watch that." He turned and set Grant on the kitchen counter, then bent and kissed the younger man hard.
"Tie me up in here and blindfold me," Grant whimpered, opening his mouth to Damon and leaning back against the cupboards. "Watch me while you mix it all up."
"Oh now, I can't do that, I might scorch it. Set the house on fire while I was distracted by you." Damon nibbled his way down Grant's neck, his fingers pulling on Grant's shirt to get at the skin below his Adam's apple. He sucked the hard knob of flesh into his mouth and hummed around it.
Whimpering, Grant squirmed as Damon played with him. "Then lock me in the laundry room, bound so I can't touch myself. You won't miss anything then," he mumbled softly, his hands running through Damon's hair.
Damon moved back, his hands sliding down to Grant's trousers quickly undoing the button and zip. He brought out the hard little cock and knelt. "All fantastic ideas. But I think I am going to have to pass. You require all of my attention." He breathed across Grant's prick then licked the tip.
His eyes rolling back in his head, Grant bucked his hips up and clutched at Damon's shoulders. "Gods!" he yelped. "I can't go to the office Sir, I can't." He was nearly sobbing as his hips jerked erratically as the other man toyed with him.
Damon looked up at his little husband. "It's all right baby, I know. I'll make it for you." He rubbed Grant's leg gently. "Let me take care of you, yeah?" He bent to his task again, licking the top of Grant's cock then pulled back on the foreskin, running his tongue around the head.
Growling and grunting, Grant hunched his hips, grabbing at Damon's hand and pressing it flat over his small cock. "Please rub it," he begged, his head falling back, exposing his throat as his body shook.
Damon stood, pressing his palm flat against Grant's cock as he began to rub on his little husband. He bent his head to Grant's throat, licking and sucking the tanned column of flesh. "What else? Tell me what you want baby. Talk to me."
"I want your prick," Grant gasped, spreading his legs wider, his little cock leaking and smearing pre come all over Damon's palm. "In me, so, so deep..."
Damon let go of Grant and stepped back. He grabbed his little husband around the waist and moved him from the counter to the table. Pulling and tossing Grant's loafers over his shoulder, he removed Grant's trousers and boxers, also tossing them back somewhere in the vicinity of the laundry room.
Hooking one of the chairs with his foot, he sat and spread Grant's legs, pulling the other man closer to him and bent his face to Grant's balls. He licked up the shaven sac then pressed his hand against Grant's cock once more as he nuzzled his balls. His other hand slipped below and slid into Grant's wet slit. "So wet..." he murmured.
A high pitched whine filled the kitchen as Grant's legs shook uncontrollably. Reaching down with one hand, he began to rub and manipulate his clit. "Please Damon, in me," he whispered, willing himself to relax.
Damon wiped his face on Grant's thigh and stood, ripping at his jeans. Finally freeing his prick, he stroked himself once, twice then pulled Grant to him. He bent forward and slid into his little husband's warmth, capturing his mouth at the same time.
Grant shuddered, bucking on the table as Damon's cock pierced him. "Yes," he hissed, wrapping his legs around the man's waist. "Hard, hurt me."
"Hurt you? Now, why would I do that?" Damon slid his arms under Grant's body to curl his fingers around his shoulders. He eased out of Grant then slammed his hips forward while pulling back on Grant's shoulders. He groaned and pulled out again, thrusting just as hard back into his husband.
Grant's body stiffened, his back bowing off the table as his fingers worked his body roughly. With a strangled, choking cry, Grant's slit began to spasm and squirt all over Damon's flat belly.
Even after all these years, Damon was still startled by the quick release his Grant found when he was like this. He bent forward and kissed Grant's face and neck, nuzzling him as he continued to thrust into the other man. "So beautiful... all mine, my own, my Grant."
Shaking badly, Grant turned to look up into Damon's face and nodded. "Yours," he breathed, his fingers still working over his clit. "Don't stop, I need more."
Damon nodded and lifted Grant up from the table. He sank into the chair and spread his legs, balancing Grant on his thighs. Wrapping one hand around the little prick, he began to stroke Grant and thrust into him as the same time. "Ride me, little one. Help me give you what you need."
Grant stared at Damon through unseeing eyes, unintelligible grunts and moans coming from the small man's mouth as he bounced up and down on Damon's lap. He was trying so hard to scratch an itch that always seemed to be just out of reach.
Not every cycle affected Grant like this, and then normally not the spring or fall ones since the pull seemed weaker at those times, but as his body aged, it changed and now there was no telling when he'd become insatiable.
Fat tears rolled down Grant's cheeks as he rubbed harder at himself, his clit and slit feeling bruised and battered as he clenched his muscles around Damon. Sometimes the only thing that helped was his husband's seed washing over his insides, his body accepting it readily.
"Please," Grant gasped, slamming himself down harder.
Damon wiped away the tears then wrapped both hands around Grant's hips hoping he could out last the man astride his lap. He lifted Grant and slammed him back down. Once, twice and then the third time, Damon's fingers clenched tightly on Grant's hips. He threw his head back and roared, body bowed with his orgasm as he filled his little husband. Shivering, he pulled Grant against his chest, sliding one hand between them to wrap around Grant's little prick. "Come for me, little one." He murmured into Grant's neck and he pulled on his prick.
Grant hissed as he felt his balls draw up, his hips bucking twice as his come coated Damon's fingers before he slumped against the other man. "I hate being like this," he whimpered, shaking from the encounter.
Damon sighed and held Grant close to him. "I know baby, I know." he whispered softly. He hated not knowing what to do for his husband in times like these. All he could do was be there when Grant's hormones surged and let himself be taken along for the ride. It made him angry to have agreed to let Grant handle his own medical affairs sometimes, when all he wanted to do was help and he didn't know how. However, he allowed Grant his privacy and respected the smaller man's wishes.
Damon would try his damnedest to make his Injun comfortable during the next three weeks. He may not like being unable to understand what was happening with Grant but he wasn't going to nose through the man's medical files or harass Max... unless it got to be too much for Grant. He'd certainly never call on 'the expert' while Grant was conscious. No, he liked his skin right where it was, thank you very much, he'd just deal with his husband as is.
Damon reached down and pulled his wand from its holster by his boot then waved it over them. He rubbed Grant's back as he held the smaller man, pressing a kiss to his sweaty skin under the t-shirt. "You all right now? Is it a little better?"
Grant nodded, stiffly climbing off of Damon's lap, wincing at the chafing he had between his legs. "Thank you," he mumbled softly. "Max called some sedative potions in for me. I need to pick them up."
Damon nodded and stood, tucking himself away in the soaked denim as best as he could, then scooped Grant up in his arms. Carrying Grant through to their bedroom, he nuzzled Grant's earlobe. "Let's get you cleaned up first then we'll go. Did you want to send a copy of the scripts to Sev? You know he'll overnight Owl them if we let him know how urgently you need them."
He kicked open the bathroom door and settled Grant on the counter. "You want a bath to sit in or a shower with me?"
Thinking about how he hurt, Grant shrugged. "A bath would probably be better, but if we still want to go anywhere, I should take it alone," he said, a chagrined look on his face. "Max has already contacted Sev about sending some potions to me. Right now I have to make do with what's in town."
Damon nodded then shook his head. "All right, Pet. I'll go shower upstairs." He bent and turned on the faucet in the large tub. "You want the jets on? I'm adding some lemon balm oil and sweet almond oil for your skin." He poured first the pale yellow then the clear oil into the water and swished it around with his hand; making certain the water was not too hot.
He turned and began to finish undressing his little husband. "Anything else, Pet?"
Grant laid his hand on Damon's arm. "Are you angry with me?" he asked softly as he was undressed.
Damon leaned in and pressed a kiss to Grant's mouth as he lifted him off the counter. "No, Grant, I'm not angry with you. I'm just frustrated that I can't help more. That I can't make this better for you," he said softly and lowered his lover down into the bath water. He gave the other man a smile and ran a hand over his hair then cupped his cheek.
Damon stroked his thumb over Grant's cheekbones and bent again, pressing a kiss to his forehead then turned to shut off the water. He set out some towels for Grant to dry off with and tossed a washcloth on top of Grant's head. "Anything else I can get for you, My Grant?"
Laughing, Grant reached up and plucked the washcloth from his head, smiling up at Damon. "I think I'm alright for now, I shouldn't be humping the shampoo bottle anyhow," he joked semi-seriously. He'd been known to masturbate until he bled during bad cycles, using whatever he could find to scratch that impossible itch.
"I'll be ready in a little bit, okay?" Grant said as he laid back in the tub and turned the jets on, sighing as the water pummelled his sore body.
Damon nodded and walked out of the bathroom after one long look back at his husband before he closed the door. He laid out clothing for Grant, trying to find the softest things that Grant would be seen in public wearing and then took his own jeans and t-shirt upstairs to the small bath there. Never was he more thankful that he had installed two hot water heaters in this old house when he had renovated it some thirty years ago. The contractor had thought him crazy and having more money than brains but he knew what he had been up to.
They had needed the space more than once when Grant was on his cycles. That thought had him remembering the magazine in the trash. Damon ran back down the stairs nude and dug into the can. He retrieved the magazine and slid it in to the motorcycle one after brushing off some coffee grounds. He'd read the entire article after Grant went to bed and go back into Grant's office to check the other journals and place it in the bookshelf. Despite Grant's complete hatred of the young doctor, Damon knew he kept every issue of the journal.
Sauntering back up the stairs, he smiled as he thought about the hot shower and flicked his wand at the bathroom door to start it flowing before he had even opened the door. Once in the room, he climbed in and sighed, leaning his head against the cool tiles as the heat from the shower spray washed over him.
He'd do what he could to help Grant this time, mentally reminding himself to get the ingredients to make a double batch of the frosting for his little husband. He'd go down to the practice tomorrow and rearrange Grant's schedules with the doctors there. Call up Sev and have him put a rush on the potions if the boy could do it.
Damon reached for the soap and dragged the rain scented bar over his body as he thought about what else he could do to help Grant.
After soaking for a little bit and washing himself carefully, Grant stepped out of the tub, drying himself gingerly before opening the medicine cabinet and taking down the remaining calming draught from the last cycle he'd gone through. Unstoppering it, he swallowed the sweet potion down and shook his head, waiting for it to start working.
In the bedroom, he smiled as he saw the clothing Damon had laid out for him, really his husband was so thoughtful and Grant felt bad for having to put him through all of this nonsense.
"Damon?" he called out as he finished dressing, "I'm ready, are you?"
Damon finished rinsing his body and stuck his head out of the shower curtain. "Be down in a minute, Pet." He quickly shampooed his hair and rinsed then turned off the water, cursing as he stepped out. He'd forgotten to get himself a towel. After taking a piss, he dried himself with his wand and dressed, scooping up his dirty clothing. He stomped down the stairs, still barefooted. "Just got to some clean socks, Pet. Then we can go."
He pressed a kiss to Grant's cheek as he walked by the other man with his dirty clothes, dropping his boots to the floor and headed into the bedroom.
Sitting down on the bed to wait, Grant watched Damon through glazed eyes. The potion was kicking in and curbing his instincts. "I think I'm under control now," he murmured, the words slurring slightly.
Damon looked at his little husband and shook his head. "You all right, Grant? You didn't take too much again did you?" he stood and walked around the bed to tilt Grant's face up and look into the dark eyes. "You want to rest and I'll go shopping?"
He stroked back a loose hair on Grant's face, wondering if he just shouldn't put the man to bed anyway.
"I just took one dose," Grant said as he leaned into Damon's touch, his dark eyes slitted in pleasure. "I'd like to go unless you don't want me to."
Damon sighed. "All right, but if the potion hasn't moved through your system then I am putting you in the basket to drive around while I shop." He smirked at his little husband and pressed a kiss to his full mouth.
Puling Grant up from the bed, Damon led him into the living room. Sitting Grant on the sofa, he shoved his feet into his boots, bending down to tie the long laces quickly before pushing the ends of the laces in the tops of his boots. "You need a jacket?" He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and his wand in the holster once more then eyed his little husband.
Grant shrugged, he was feeling overheated as it was. "I might bring one with me, but I'm hot. Is it hot to you?" he asked as he pushed up the sleeves of his shirt and looked around.
"You can't put me in the basket anyway, I don't fit," the little man smirked as he got to his feet, swaying gently for a moment, tipping his head back for another kiss.
Damon shook his head and bent, giving Grant the kiss he desired. "No, it's fine to me." He grabbed his and Grant's jacket and wrapped an arm around the little man's waist. "Don't tell me what I can't do. I'll shove you in there just because you said I couldn't." He rubbed Grant's back and carefully steered him through the kitchen to the back door.
Damon stopped, grabbed a diet coke out of the fridge and opened the silverware draw, pulling the half eaten bag of peanut butter cups out to take with them. "You want anything else before we go?"
Shaking his head, Grant let Damon lead him out to the car and be put in the passenger seat without compliant. "Thank you," he murmured as Damon passed the treats to him and then got behind the wheel. The little man was feeling pleasantly stoned and quietly looked out the window at the passing countryside while drinking his diet coke.
"Huh," he muttered suddenly as he looked down at the soda bottle in his hand, turning it slowly in the sunlight.
Damon turned and looked at the little man then laid a hand on his thigh, "What?" He rubbed Grant's leg, trying to help the other man through touch. They'd learned, over many years that his touch sometimes calmed the little man and Damon always tried to give him the relief he needed during this time.
"You forget something?"
"I bet this would fit," Grant mumbled, pressing his leg against Damon's hand and continuing to stare at the bottle.
Damon snorted and shook his head. "I'm certain it would but let's not find out tonight all right? I've no need for a fountain... just yet." He grinned at his little husband and squeezed his leg.
Grant snorted softly, rolling his head drunkenly to look at Damon. The potion was coursing through his system nicely even though he still felt the pull of his body. "Know something?" he slurred softly.
Damon laughed. "I know alot of somethings, baby, but enlighten me with your stoned wisdom." He grinned at the little man and reached up to pet Grant's cheek before resting his hand back on Grant's thigh.
"You're cute and I'm horny," Grant said and then began to laugh at what he'd said.
Damon shook his head and chuckled at Grant. "I know. Think you can divert it for a couple of hours while you spend my money."
Grant nodded and sighed. "I'm sorry Damon, I know it's not easy when I'm like this. I'll be good," Grant said as he patted Damon's hand and yawned.
Damon looked over at his husband. "I know it isn't easy for you, Pet," he said softly then leaned over to press a kiss to Grant's forehead. "Sleep if you want to, we still have another twenty minute drive. I promise to take care of you when we get home again."
"Better get the Teflon coated condoms," Grant mumbled with a grin as he closed his eyes and let the drugged sleep take him.
Damon rolled his eyes at the comment and turned the radio on low as Grant snoozed in the passenger seat. He ran a hand over Grant's head then focussed on the road once again as he counted down the days until his little husband would be feeling better.
@@@@@
Once home, Grant trudged tiredly to the bedroom, telling Damon he was going to bed to try to sleep and to wake him when the other man joined him.
Damon set the bags of groceries on the table and followed his little husband into the bedroom, shoving him back onto the bed. He removed Grant's shoes and pants, then his shirt came off next. Damon slid one of his old t-shirts onto his husband and settled him beneath the blankets then pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'll join you as soon as I get the groceries put away."
Venturing back into the kitchen, Damon put up the food, set out the ingredients to make the frosting for Grant and then took a glass of tea and a few pieces of chocolate into Grant, setting them on the night stand in case he woke before he returned.
He quietly returned to the kitchen and grabbed a pan, tossing in a stick of butter and two baker's chocolate squares to melt in the pan as he pulled out the medical journal and flipped to the article, reading over what Doctor Montgomery had written. He nodded as he stirred the butter and chocolate together, taking mental notes to try some of the suggested foods that might ease some of Grant's symptoms.
@@@@@@
Several days later, Grant looked down at the mushroom laden omelet Damon set in front of him. "That looks good baby, thank you for cooking breakfast," he said with a smile as he tucked into the mushrooms, shoving them into his mouth and chewing in content. "It's odd; I normally don't care for these things."
Damon grinned at his husband as he settled down at the table. Montgomery's article had specified that mushrooms both edible and the psychotropic ones, could have an affect on behaviour as well as the sex and stress related hormones. A little more research through Grant's medical books had netted him the advice of niacin, a vitamin in the edible mushrooms, in large doses over a gradual period of time had shown to reduce 'bad' cholesterol and balance out the headaches associated with stress. It also seemed to level out Grant's 'hot flashes' as well so he had added more of them to Grant's diet each day. He wasn't quite certain he wanted to put Grant on the 'shrooms but the edible ones he picked up at Clangman's had done the trick.
"Sometimes you just go through spells." Damon shrugged and dug into his own omelette.
Grant shrugged and then smiled happily up at Damon. "Does this mean you are going to take over my kitchen now?" he teased as he cut into the fluffy omelet, rolling his eyes in pleasure as he ate.
Damon chuckled. "Somehow I don't think so, Injun. Once in a while is enough for me." He scooped out some sour cream and spread it on his own ham and cheese omelette then cut a large bite out of it. Chewing for a moment, he watched Grant. "So, you want to go with me to the bar tonight?"
Grant chewed as he thought and then nodded. "Sure. I think I'll wear those painted on jeans you seem to like so much," he said with a lascivious leer.
Damon groaned as he looked at his little husband. "Behave or I'll have to spank you. I have to tend bar tonight. I can't be chasing you all over the dance floor but I will save a place for you on my dance card," he teased and winked at his husband.
"I'm in the office tonight, then?" Grant asked. He did help keep the books and inventory for Damon and wouldn't mind helping the man out that evening.
Damon shrugged as he forked up more of his omelette. "You can do that or help serve drinks, if you think you can handle the crowds. It's Friday night you know."
Wide brown eyes looked at Damon pensively. "I can try. Do you want me to take a half dose before we go?" Grant asked. He was a little worried about his flirting with other men; he knew he got bad at times.
Damon eyed his husband for a moment. He trusted his little husband and didn't want to add any more stress to him "Maybe you ought to just stick to my office. You can start working on the set up for the dart tournament for me if you would. I need the announcement written up for the paper and the flyer Tom made up completed with the dates for this year." He looked at the plate for a moment then nodded as he looked back up at Grant. "Yeah, stay in my office tonight and I'll make certain to come and visit you when it's slow."
Grant sighed and then nodded, he understood completely; Damon didn't need an added distraction at work. "Do I get to play in the tourney this year?" he asked as he picked up his plate, taking it to the sink and running water in the sink for the washing up.
Damon dipped a bit of his omelet in some sour cream before shoving the bite in his mouth. "No, you can't play. I'm sorry but those boys are in it for the money and you winning the contest would convince them I had the thing rigged." He smiled at the little man. "We can play later though if you like."
Grant rolled his eyes. "They just get pissed cause a fairy beats them," he muttered as he refilled Damon's coffee cup. "I can't help it that I'm better than they are, can I?" He went back to the dishes and soon had the kitchen cleaned up and back in order.
Damon smiled, deciding that everything was all right for a little while and he had Doctor Montgomery to thank for it.