Tony was released from the hospital late the next day. Flynn visited him at his apartment after work. Even though he had experience with post-surgery scars, Flynn’s stomach still turned at the sight of Tony’s bandaged chest. There were ruddy smatters of old blood on the white linen and bright fresh blood in two drainage packs sticking out from his sides. Tony tried to lift his arms up to show them off, but his elbows wouldn’t go above his stomach without straining his stitches and causing pain.
“You know what that means,” Tony sighed. “No fun for me until it heals.” Kaya snickered. “Not just that, you perv. I can’t go to the gym, or do my morning stretches, or even shower normally. I’m also going to be stuck behind the register again. At least I’m allowed to push a broom…if I go slowly.”
