Cut and Run 3 - Fish and Chips

hard, one arm around Zane’s neck as he twisted awkwardly, still on his knees.
    “Are you okay?” Zane asked shakily.
    “I’m afraid not,” Ty whispered against Zane’s neck, his voice barely audible. He began to shake silently, his body trembling with nervous laughter. Zane huffed and hugged him closer, but he didn’t think it was too damn funny.
    After a long minute of being unable to let go, Zane finally pulled back enough to fumble with the buckle of Ty’s helmet and yank it off. He tossed the thing to the side so he could kiss Ty gently and pull him close again. It was a struggle to hold himself together, and Zane really didn’t want to make a scene, but…. “Jesus, baby,” he said brokenly. That moment of watching Ty slipping and falling was burned into his mind, and he couldn’t wipe it away.
    “It’s okay,” Ty murmured gently. He patted Zane’s face awkwardly. “Let’s unhook me so I can go throw up somewhere,” he joked weakly as he sat back on his haunches and began pulling at the harness. The two attendants helped him get loose, offering mumbled apologies and expressions of admiration for how he’d managed not to fall, but Ty merely nodded to them as he pushed at the harness. He probably wasn’t hearing them. His mouth was set in a hard line, and he was still trembling as the adrenaline burned off. He looked up at Zane and met his eyes, giving a shaky exhalation after he stepped out of the harness and kicked it away.
    Zane held out his hand. “C’mon, baby. I think that’s enough for this morning.”
    Ty took his hand and squeezed it hard, pulling himself toward Zane as if he were one of the ropes Ty had just been harnessed to. He wrapped an arm around Zane’s waist and hugged him close for a moment before sliding under Zane’s arm and letting it encircle his shoulders. It was the first time Zane could remember Ty initiating such a display of physical comfort after something traumatic. He wondered if it was for show or if it was real.
    Zane hated that this case was forcing him to ask himself that over and over.
    As they started walking, the slight difference in their heights made it easy to move without stumbling, even while descending the narrow stairs. By the time they got to the deck, Zane thought he might be calming down, but then a mob of staff surrounded them with bodies and babble.
    “Mr. Porter! — Please let us apologize — Mr. Porter, are you okay? — Can we get you anything? Mr. Porter, we’ll do whatever — ”
    “Enough,” Zane snapped firmly above the noise, silencing them, anger finally rising over all the other welling emotions. “We just want to get back to our room. You can be sure I will let you know if we need anything and just exactly what I think about this accident .”
    The cowed staff melted out of their way, and Zane got them moving again.
    “Hold on,” Ty murmured as he patted at Zane’s belly to stop him from trampling anyone in their way. He began to pull away, still looking dazed. “I want to see the rope.”
    Zane frowned at Ty briefly, thinking Ty might actually be in shock, but then his brain caught up to Ty’s. “It’s out on the platform.”
    Ty moved toward where the rope lay in a messy pile of coils at the base of the wall. Manny stopped him, asking him if he needed a doctor and once again barraging him with offers of assistance and comps and everything else under the sun. Ty waved him off, shaking his head and giving the man an easygoing grin. Though he must have been shaken, Zane had to give him credit for maintaining the winning smile that seemed able to charm just about anyone.
    “Could you cut the end off that rope for me?” Ty asked Manny grandly, his accent back in place. “I’d love to add it to my collection of things that have almost killed me.”
    Ty laughed and patted Manny on the back as if he was making light, and the workers who could hear him seemed to attribute it to either the carefree attitude of a daredevil or a British stiff upper lip. Either way, they weren’t about to refuse anything Ty asked at that point. Soon Ty was moving back toward Zane with six inches of rope clutched in his hand and a forced, charismatic smile firmly in place.
    Zane slid his arm around him again. “Let’s go,” he suggested. “I don’t know if you need a break, but I sure as hell do.” The staff members around them laughed in weak relief.
    As they passed by the large crowd of milling passengers, many of whom called