That spurred Nick into action, "What?! Stephen! How can you say that? You of all people know that there was no love lost between me and Helen. Hell, I slept on your damn sofa most nights!"
"So now that your wife's out of the way you can pick up with the toyboy whore?" Stephen's eyes were filled with insecurity and hurt.
Nick frowned, then reached out and cuffed Stephen upside the head, "You're only seven years younger than me, that hardly makes you a toyboy," he said dryly, then ruffled the hair at the back of his neck, taking hope in the fact that Stephen didn't pull away, "And if Helen hadn't threatened to… well… do exactly what she's gone and done anyway," he made a face, "Then I would've left her for you a long time ago."
Stephen grumbled to himself, leaning into the touch of Nick's hand on the back of his neck, "Yeah, yeah… I better get more than just a bunch of Tesco flowers for birthdays and anniversaries, though. I know Helen ended up using your money to buy her own birthday presents."
Nick snorted and mumbled, "Helen used my money to do 'most everythin'."
Stephen smiled at him, turning his head so that his cheek lay in the palm of Nick's hand, "Why are we talking about Helen?"
"Well… you brought her up…" Nick teased, making Stephen pout, "But I can forgive that," he nodded, fighting a smile as he leaned in and kissed him again.
Nick pressed his lips to Stephen's, this time allowing them to part a little, flicking his tongue against the seam of the other man's lips. Stephen smirked, Nick could feel it, before parting his own lips and allowing Nick's questing tongue access. Nick's own smirk was internal. Helen may have gotten off on watching Nick teach Stephen to kiss properly, but Nick sure as hell didn't teach him everything he knew.
So when Nick rolled his tongue over Stephen's in a move that he deliberately hadn't taught him, Stephen shuddered and practically melted against him. Then it was Nick's turn to smirk against the other man's kiss-swollen lips. He pressed another chaste kiss against them, leaning in to take it further.
And his phone rang.
"Ignore it… come on…" Stephen's lips murmured against his cheek as he fumbled for the phone.
Nick glanced quickly down at the caller ID on the phone, "It's Connor."
Stephen immediately stopped mouthing at Nick's neck and looked at him in concern as he answered the phone, "Connor?"
"How is he?" Nick's face broke into a relieved smile, "Yeah? Yeah, course… Stephen and I will be down to pick you up. Just give us twenty to get down there."
Nick nodded, making Stephen wonder if he realised Connor couldn't see, "Alright, you too, Connor."
He hung up and turned back to Stephen, "Bruised rib and a bump on the head."
Stephen too sighed in relief, "Oh good," he nodded to the phone still in Nick's hand, "What was that about see you in twenty?"
"Ryan's being released and Connor went down in the ambulance," Nick tugged on Stephen's hand, pulling him along, "We have to go pick them up."
Pulling up outside the hospital, Stephen and Nick both got out, ignoring the looks Stephen and his attire got as they walked into the hospital. Nick smiled at the woman at the desk, asking for Ryan with all the charm he possessed. The desk nurse blushed and giggled, pointing them both in the right direction.
Stephen turned to him as they walked away, "It's the accent, you know," he nodded.
Nick raised an eyebrow, "What is?"
Stephen gestured behind him to where the desk nurse was still craning her neck to watch them both leave, "That."
Nick snorted, not bothering to dignify that with a response as he carried on down the hall to Ryan's room. He stopped in the doorway, pausing before he knocked on the doorframe, smiling at the sight in front of him. Connor, still the picture of the baby-faced student, holding Ryan's hand, thumb stroking back and forth across the knuckles. And Ryan, even battered and bruised, looking like a soldier, smiling softly, a light blush colouring his cheeks.
Stephen grinned at the sight himself, before leaning over Nick and rapping sharply on the open door, making both Connor and Ryan jump. As Ryan winced, his ribs pulling, Connor turned to glare sharply at Stephen, before turning back to Ryan, rubbing a soothing hand along his shoulder and gently squeezing the hand he held.
Stephen grimaced, "Sorry, Ryan."
"No worries," was sent back, a little wheezily.
"Connor said you were bein' released?" Nick cut in.
"Mmhmm," Connor himself replied, "Me, Ryan and the doctor all signed the release forms, so we just have to wait for the orderly to come back with a wheelchair. Don't complain, Ryan," he steamrolled over the top of the other man as he opened his mouth to protest, "Then we're good to go."
Stephen barely bit back snickers as Ryan's mouth snapped shut abruptly and he blinked at Connor. Stephen opened his mouth to make a teasing comment, but was cut off by a gentle tap on the door. A young, slightly pudgy-faced orderly stood in the doorway with a wheelchair. And he looked utterly mortified.
Connor tilted his head, squeezed Ryan's hand once and got up, "Ashley? Ashley Smith, am I right?" he kept his voice gentle and soothing.
Stephen turned his face away, looking at Ryan, so the orderly wouldn't see his eyebrows flying up into his hairline. Connor walked over to the orderly, a small smile on his face. He placed a hand on the wheelchair's handle, keeping the distance between them for Ryan's sake.
The orderly nodded, blushing tomato red, "Y-yes. I… You remember me?"
Connor's smile got a little bigger, and he nodded, "Mmhmm. You work here now?"
Ashley nodded again, blushing even more, "For almost a year. I… I followed your advice. I did what I was passionate about… n-not what would keep my dad happy."
"And congratulations to you," Connor's smile turned into a grin.
Ashley gave him a shy half-smile in return, "I should go. I still have other rooms to get to," he transferred the wheelchair over to Connor's hands and left, still blushing madly.
Connor turned back with the wheelchair, to a room full of raised eyebrows, "What?"
Stephen smirked, "One of your virgins?"
Connor made a 'keep it down' gesture, but answered, "Yes, he was, actually."
Nick looked at him, not entirely sure how to react, "Do you always give out advice when they visit, Conn?"
Connor scowled at them both, "I get paid for the night, most of the time they're so bloody nervous we end up talking about anything and everything until the early hours of the morning before something actually happens."
He pushed the wheelchair over to the hospital bed, "Alright then," he said to Ryan, "Going home?"
"Too bloody right," Ryan responded emphatically, sliding the covers out the way and easing his feet off the bed.
Connor helped him into the wheelchair, with much grumbling on Ryan's part. Then the four men left the room, heading past the front desk where Connor dropped in the paperwork with a smile. The desk nurse didn't smile back. Nick gave her a smile, but to no avail. Her eyes flicked down and away, to a pair of official, yet disdainful looking men in the corner of the waiting room.
Nick murmured to himself, "I don't think this is going to end nicely," as the men started heading towards them.
"Mr Nicholas Cutter?" the first asked.
"That's me," Nick replied warily.
"Andrew York, Bailey and Bailey Debt Collection Agencies," the suited man said, eyeing Ryan in the wheelchair, while his partner eyed Stephen's leather pants.
Nick frowned, "What can I do for you?"
York raised an eyebrow, "You're seventy-five thousand pounds in debt, Mr Cutter, I would think it was obvious what you can do."
Nick's frown grew deeper, "I'm paying in monthly instalments, as my contract entitles me to. What's this about, really?"
York looked down his nose at him, "Merely protecting Bailey and Bailey's assets, Mr Cutter."
Connor's hands had grown steadily tighter on the wheelchair, "Protecting assets?! For Christ's sake, this is a hospital! We've just had to watch one of our own get treated for assault. And this couldn't wait til tomorrow? Or even a couple of hours til we got back?" he shook his head in disgust at the suited men, "You would've had to have at least phoned Anomaly before you came here."
"Easy, Conn…" Ryan said quietly.
York eyed Connor like he was something on the bottom of his shoe, before turning back to Nick, "What you have to understand, Mr Cutter, is that Bailey and Bailey has every intention of honouring your contract. But in such a… shall we say… unprofitable? business such as yours…" he trailed off as Stephen started laughing uproariously.
"Stephen…" Nick sighed.
"What?" Stephen fought out between guffaws, "He's talkin' about unprofitable business… but… but… but…" he trailed off into unintelligible giggles for a moment before composing himself, "But he's paid nearly two thousand pounds to have me for a bloody night!"
"Really...?" Nick fought a smile as he turned to look back at York, who was fidgeting like a madman.
Ryan grinned suddenly as the other suited man tried to sidle away, "Knew it. Nick, he's one of mine."
"And… how much?" Nick had to bite down hard on the smile that threatened to break across his face.
"Well… I'd have to check the books to be 100 sure, obviously…" Ryan nodded sagely, making Connor's shoulders shake silently with mirth.
"Oh, aye," Nick agreed facetiously, "Obviously…"
"But I believe it was something like eleven hundred pounds."
York and his partner looked at each other, utterly mortified and utterly scandalised.
Nick raised an eyebrow, "You were sayin' about unprofitable business, there, gentlemen?"
"Just…" York bit out, "Just continue to make your repayments on time and you'll have no further problems," then he and his partner spun on their heels and walked out as quickly as they could.
As soon as the men were out of sight, Connor allowed himself to break into peals of laughter, "The looks on their faces! Christ… you'd think… wouldn't ya…" he leant over, still giggling and placed a kiss on Ryan's cheek before continuing on towards the car, Stephen and Nick following.
It was only after they'd gotten back to Anomaly and settled the still-grumbling Ryan on a couch that Stephen spoke up, uncharacteristically serious, "They did have a point though, Nick…"
Nick didn't look up, "I know."
Connor looked up from where he was still fussing around Ryan, "What? They were right about what?"
"You can't be sayin' that we're unprofitable, Nick…" Ryan said, frowning slightly.
Nick sighed, "At the moment, we are," he held up a hand as both Connor and Ryan tried to speak, "With Ryan's income gone, I'm not gonna be able to make both the payments on the property and the payments to the debt collectors."
Ryan tried to sit up a little, "It's only a bruised rib, Nick, I can go back to work tonight if you want."
"The hell you can," Connor scowled, before pushing gently at his uninjured shoulder, "Sit."
"Gotta agree with Connor, here, Ryan. You try and go back to work, you'll put yourself back in hospital within a week."
"So, what then?" Ryan looked discouraged.
"Nothin' for it," Nick shrugged, "We need a new high roller."
Stephen looked at him, "I'll get the books, shall I?"
Connor blinked, "What, now?"
"Need the money, Conn," Ryan said quietly, "Those debt collectors aren't going to stay away for long."
Stephen came back with two books of photos, all the men the clientele who came to Anomaly could choose from. He handed one to Connor, who took it back over to the couch, pulling Ryan in to curl against him and flicking through the photo album slowly. He pointed to one photo about halfway in, making Ryan screw up his face and wiggle his fingers in a 'so-so' motion. Connor pulled out the photo anyway with a sigh, passing it to Stephen, who added it to the very small pile on the desk.
"Okay…" he passed all the photos to Nick, who looked through them, nose wrinkling slightly.
Nick passed them to Connor, who sighed and shook his head. He passed them to Ryan who raised his eyebrows and snorted. Ryan passed them to Stephen who heaved a longsuffering sigh and began to toss them onto the desk one by one.
"Too young."
"Too nervous."
"Isn't nearly picky enough."
Stephen growled, uncrossing his leather-encased legs and sprawling in the chair, "This is ridiculous," he tossed the final photo onto the desk, "And they all look like whores."
Collectively, the rest of the high rollers blinked slowly. They all exchanged looks, still blinking. Then they turned to look at Stephen. As one, they let their eyes travel from his leather knee-high boots, to his painted-on leather pants, to his silk shirt, to the artfully messy sex-hair.
Stephen scowled, waving a hand irritably at them, "I meant cheap ones!"