The elaborate, if not also ostentatious, door came swinging open. “You’re late.” Julian knew there hadn’t been a set time. He just said to be there as soon as he could but ‘you’re late’ seems like a better greeting than anything else. He narrows his eyes at his doctor upon further observation. “You look like shit. Did you shower?” Julian didn’t hesitate to motion the younger man inside. He shut the door firmly behind him and led the poor soul to the kitchen.
Julian didn’t know how to cook much. What he did know came from his previous slaves but they had been set free awhile back. He cleared his throat and pushed their memories to a far corner of his brain. “Coffee?”
Too numb in his sleep deprivation to notice details, it took Dane a solid couple of seconds before he took full notice of the door. Just the damn door. His eyebrows furrowing in contemplation, Dane estimated that the front doors alone to Julian’s house had to cost more than a month’s worth of rent on his own apartment. But with he and his fiance fresh out of medical school and buried in school loan debt, it was a miracle that they could afford to live anywhere at all. Then again, Julian did pay him handsomely for these private house calls. It wasn’t any real wonder why.
As the door opened, Dane was unable to help himself as his gaze swept over the other man’s. They’d been in business together for awhile now and Dane couldn’t help but acknowledge Julian’s attractiveness. To begin with, he was handsome - nothing wrong with admitting that, right? It didn’t make him gay to think that… He was also tall, though Dane was still an inch taller, dark in behavior, and mysterious. Dane quickly shuffled those thoughts to the side. What in the world was he describing? A passage from one of his fiance’s trash romance novels? Instead, Dane quickly turned his perusal of Julian into a medical examination. As far as he could tell, there was nothing wrong with the man. Dane glared.
"No, I didn’t have time to shower,” he snapped, though his tone stayed characteristically level and monotone. “I was too busy being late.” Stepping inside Julian’s house, he followed behind him. “And I see you’re not dying. As I suspected. But yes, I’ll take some coffee, please.” Sighing, he sat down at one of the kitchen chairs, rubbing his face with his palm. “So, why did you really call me here?” he asked curiously, though tiredly.
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