Page 9 of Rough Heat

“Okay, Jeez. Have you ever known anybody with it?”

“I don’t think so? I mean, a lot of the time it’s treatable. Sounds like it sucks royally—pretty sure people that don’t react well to treatment have to be hospitalised and just, you know…”

“What?”

“Well, pretty sure they get palliative care and die from the strain of it. Heart problems, a lot of the time.”

Leo felt himself go cold, an odd, sudden panic going through him. “Fuck. Are you serious?”

“I mean, it’s rare. Probably your Omega will react to the treatment and—”

“No. He already said nothing has worked. Well, they’re gonna try something else, but they need him to gain some strength, you know?”

Rose observed him carefully. “How many times have you met up with him? Them, I mean.”

“Just twice. We talked. Mostly.”

Rose made a contemplative noise.

Leo frowned. “What?”

“Nothing, just…you seem pretty worked up about people you’ve met twice.”

“I mean, it’s basic empathy. Maybe you’ve heard of it,” Leo snarked.

“Yeah, yeah. They made an impression, huh?”

Leo shrugged, thinking back on their first meeting. The way the kiss had sunk into his bones in a way that sex usually didn’t anymore. Not that he didn’t enjoy some of the sex he had on the job, but it was work. There was only so much enjoyment he could get from something he had to do to be able to pay his rent or whatever.

“Leo.” His sister grinned. “Are you blushing right now? Are you serious? I haven’t seen you blush about your job since the first time you told me about it.”

“I’m not blushing, it’s just hot in your stupid apartment.”

“Mmhm. Sure. Wow, okay. Well, I’m glad you’re taking clients on that aren’t complete shitheads for a change.”

“The shitheads pay the bills.”

“I don’t wanna fight about this again. You know where I stand with this. Sex work? Cool, great, work it. Using it as a way of self-harm because you feel like you deserve it? Not—”

“Stop phrasing it like that. That’s not what I’m doing,” Leo growled.

Rose looked at him steadily. “Leo. It’s been you and me for how fucking long? I know, okay? You think he didn’t fuck me up too? But you’ve got it in your head that you’re fine and…look, I’m so fucking proud of you. You know I am. But some of the things you do are shitty to yourself, and it hurts to see.”

Leo stared down at his hands, knuckles white, little snow mountains in rocky, tense terrain. It wasn’t that he thought his childhood hadn’t affected him, but it was his responsibility to pull himself together. To get over it.

Leo sighed. “Let’s not do this right now, okay? I’m good. I’m okay. I promise.”

Rose watched him silently for a moment. Leo couldn’t stand how sad she looked. She didn’t press, though, taking his hand and squeezing before turning back to the TV. “90 Day Fiancé?”

“Let’s fucking do it.”

THREE

Stupidly,Leowasalittle nervous as he walked up the stairs to Josh and Damon’s apartment. It wasn’t the dread and exhaustion when faced with some clients, but he could feel the weight of what this meant laying heavily on his shoulders.

What if Leo couldn’t help? What if Josh got worse and worse and eventually…

Leo shook his head as he knocked on the door. He didn’t even know these people. And, yeah, sure, basic empathy meant that he was a little concerned, but this wasn’t his problem. He’d been hired to do a job, which was the only thing he should be concerned about.

---