"My sweet, my darling," Moe cooed, overwhelmed by the adorable, indescribably wonderful scent of milk, cradling Miny’s squirming form and planting kisses on his chubby cheeks, who was currently occupied with trying to remove the elastic bandages covering Moe’s nipples. "Well, I'm sorry, baby, but you can't have the milk just yet. There's too much medicine in it. When they take me off painkillers, then I'll let you have a sip. Ouch!" Miny retaliated by biting his finger sharply and Moe cast a paternal yet disapproving glance.

Einer, having silently entered the room, settled into a chair with a faint smile, observing the scene. Moe, catching sight of him, flushed deeply – still feeling profoundly embarrassed and wishing to bury himself under the covers to avoid the weighty conversation that had transpired during his hospitalization. He had already gleaned the basic details from Daniel: how Kay had slipped in the forged documents amidst Manny's paperwork, Einer's cautious coordination with the FBI to ensure their safety, and the realization that none of this would have happened if not for Moe's blunder. The shame was consuming, scorching through him.

"Hey, Moe," Einer greeted with a knowing grin, clasping his hands on his lap. "It's okay, take your time. There's no rush."

"Are you sure?" Panic tinged Moe's voice, though he tried to cloak it with a cough. "What about work?"

"It can wait," Einer chuckled, relishing Moe's discomfort. Meanwhile, Miny let out one last disgruntled growl, puckering his lips in a pout and emitting a thick wail, puzzled why his beloved milk was being denied. Datu and Einer stepped forward. Moe sighed, making a decision, and gestured for them to proceed.

"Go ahead, if you want. He's used to you; he'll settle in your arms," Moe consented. Einer hesitated momentarily before gingerly lifting Miny into his embrace, swaying awkwardly as he rose from the chair, humming softly. "Miny, don't cry, little one. Daddy needs to rest for a bit, but he'll be back soon, with... me," Einer shot a meaningful glance at Moe, who pretended to be engrossed in the view out the window as if it held the secrets of the universe. Miny paused, gazing up at Einer with surprise, then resumed his wailing, squirming in his father's arms. Einer's movements quickened, one hand reaching into his pocket. Watching Einer's futile attempts to soothe his son, Moe couldn't help but grin; resourceful Einer resorted to showing his phone to Miny – a surefire way to calm him down with a screen.

As Miny's cries tapered off to a mesmerized silence, he grabbed the glowing screen with both hands, snatching it from his father's grasp and bringing it to his mouth.

"It's dirty!" Moe protested, fidgeting in bed. "Phones carry more germs than a toilet seat! Get it back!"

"H-how?" Einer glanced nervously at Miny, who was now fixated on the phone, displaying a predatory glint in his eyes as he guarded his new treasure. "He'll start crying again!"

"Datu," Moe sighed, turning to Datu, who had discreetly retreated to the wall and now approached Einer calmly, pulling Sophie la Giraffe out of the bag. Miny, still chewing on the phone's edge, gave Datu a haughty look, indicating he had outmaneuvered them – he wasn't willing to relinquish his new toy for the sake of an old one.

"You need to take it back, sir," Datu advised in a hushed tone. Einar, grinning nervously, retrieved the phone from the firm grip and overwhelmed by Miny's frantic cries, relented, handing the wailing Miny over to Datu. With practiced ease, Datu slipped a bottle of formula into Miny's mouth, quelling the disturbance, and cast a knowing glance at Moe before offering, "Shall I step out?"

"Yes," Moe blushed once more, resigned to the inevitable. "You can take Miny home now; he seems tired."

"Very well, sir. We'll head out tonight as usual," Datu gave Miny's rumbling backside a gentle pat and moved towards the exit, leaving them alone.

Once the door clicked shut behind them, Einar pulled the chair closer to the bed and took a seat.

"Shall we talk?"

"Not for long, I'm feeling drowsy from the meds," Moe yawned, covering his eyes with his hand, but Einar gently removed his hand, urging him to look at him.

"You owe me a conversation, Moe. I've been waiting for a long time," Einar frowned, running his fingers affectionately over Moe's hand. "I feel I deserve honesty and... your trust? Hmm?"

"You do," Mo sighed, mustering his courage. "I'm sorry for not trusting you from the start."

Relieved, Einar smiled and kissed Moe's fingertips, his eyes burning with anticipation, prompting Moe to continue, "And... I suppose we can give it another try, can't we?"

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Truly, openly, based on complete trust," Einar spoke earnestly, squeezing Moe's hand firmly. "Without ambiguity or assumptions, addressing any issues straightforwardly without offense..."

"Yes, yes, yes," Moe interjected, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "It sounds like a job description, Einar!"

"It's the only way I know," Einar brushed Moe's cheek lightly, testing the waters. "Will you teach me how to communicate in a way that suits you?"

"Fair enough," Moe, touched by Einar's sincerity and change in tone, nuzzled his cheek against Einar's hand, grateful. Einar leaned in, his lips seeking a kiss. Moe responded tenderly, inhaling Einar's alluring, suggestive scent, relieved that Einar didn't reproach him for anything. Einar kissed him gently, occasionally nibbling on his lips, keeping the kiss light and affectionate, and whispered between kisses, "I love you endlessly, Moe. I'll wait for you as long as it takes. Please, let yourself be fully mine, live with me, Moe."

"Wait," Moe pulled back slightly, meeting Einar's gaze openly and directly, then whispered on a breath, "I love you too, Einar."

Einar breathed heavily and unevenly, closing his eyes tightly, his complexion pale with emotion. He pressed his sweaty forehead against Moe's, absorbing his response, and slowly opened his shining eyes.

"Thank you, I'm happy. So, are we together now? Are you mine?" he asked.

"Yours," Moe rubbed his nose against Einar's, planting a brief kiss on his lips. "We're together now."

Einar eagerly kissed Moe's lips, cheeks, and nose before moving lower to his neck, planting a wet kiss on his throat. With a growl, he buried his face in Moe's neck, leaving behind a bright flash of pain that quickly turned into a surge of emotion as their mental connection deepened. Startled by the sensation, Moe cried out.

"Ah! What are you doing?"

Einar didn't respond immediately. Instead, he licked the bleeding mark on Moe's neck, rumbling with satisfaction, and settled over him like a contented animal, grinning predatorily.

"You said you were mine, so I marked you," he explained. "Or you might come up with something else. You're quite resourceful, Moe."

"You... you bastard!" Moe swung a retaliatory hand, but Einar easily intercepted it, gently smacking the plaster cast on Moe's other hand. "You're taking advantage of me being bedridden! I'll get back at you!"

"I look forward to it," Einar smiled, unfazed, utterly content. "I can't wait, my love. Soon, I'll take you home, where you can continue to give me a hard time, but you'll be confined to my bed for a while. And don't curse; the doctor said you'll recover faster with the mark, so I've invested in your healing."

"You're a bastard," Moe grumbled, his fingers tracing the fresh mark on his neck, finding a strange comfort in its presence. "And an asshole. A terrible host."

Einar smiled as if Moe had uttered affectionate words, gently stroking Moe's chest and rubbing his nose against his cheek. He purred contentedly and embraced Moe lightly, mindful of his still-sore body, resting his face against Moe's neck. Moe gazed at Einar's light, wavy hair, feeling his resentment gradually dissolve into a warm wave of cleansing emotion, and pressed his cheek against the top of Einar's head, silent. There was a mess between them, but Moe felt a glimmer of hope for their relationship.

"In my family, whenever there was a disagreement, we used to recite our favorite counting rhyme," Moe said softly, sensing Einar's attentive presence and opening up. "You remember the names of my relatives, and my father came up with a solution during an argument between me and Miny. We would sit down together after dinner and recite a rhyme. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, grab the tiger by its toe, if it hollers let it go; Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Whoever the rhyme landed on would say something heartfelt to each person, recalling all the good things that happened that week. You know, even if you're still angry, remembering that Miny helped me chase down a huge spider, despite his fear of spiders, makes the anger dissipate. You and I have our own version of the counting game now. You're Eeny, Manny is Meeny, Miny is Miny, and I'm Moe. Would you like to give it a try?"

"Sure," Einar lifted his head, resting his chin on his fist. "I'll start. Eeny, meeny..."

"Hey, there are only two of us here," Moe teased, trying to hide his excitement. "Naturally, it'll land on me. That's not fair."

"I'd like to hear something good from you too, considering I've been called a bastard, a terrible host, and an asshole," Einar grinned warmly, his eyes filled with affection.

"You saved me, put up with all my tantrums, came to see me every day despite my reluctance to talk," Moe's voice wavered, wiping away tears. "I really appreciate it, Einar."

"Don't cry," Einar wiped away Mo's tears, kissing his eyelids tenderly. "I love you, Moe. It was only natural. I would have done more for you, you know?"

"I understand now," Moe sniffled.

"Good," Einar reluctantly pulled away, lightly stroking Mo's cheek. "Don't get upset, Moe. Use all your strength to recover."

"It's not working," Moe sighed, feeling discouraged.

"It will," Einar's eyes sparkled mischievously as he backed away. "I didn't tell you this, but I've already moved into our house."

"What? So your sentimental plea for us to be together was just a formality? You were already certain I'd accept you?" Moe's rage flared, blindly reaching for a heavier object on the nightstand.

"Yes, my love, because I wouldn't have let you go anywhere," Einar dodged the object, laughing heartily as Moe growled in frustration.

"You're a bastard, I hate you!" Moe exclaimed.

"I love you too, Moe!" Einar exclaimed, planting a playful kiss on his fingertips before blowing it into the air. With a mischievous grin, he dodged the book aimed his way and dashed out of the room, his laughter contagious. Despite Moe's initial growl of annoyance, he found himself unable to resist Einar's infectious joy, and soon found himself grinning as well, albeit reluctantly, as he hurled an apple at the door in jest. Chuckling to himself, Moe couldn't help but admire Einar's cleverness, even if it was a bit predictable. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't deny the warmth and goodness in Einar's heart. The prospect of retaliation only added to Moe's amusement, and he settled back with a smile, silently relishing the playful banter between them.