- Text Size +
----------------------------
Epilogue: Like This Forever
----------------------------

He knocked on the counter twice and rang the bell once, holding on to
a takeout box and balancing two Styrofoam cups on top of it. He was
smiling and visibly energetic, shifting from one foot to another
anxiously. His cheery (and awake) mood was almost obnoxious to the
groggy nightshift workers, who passed by with glares and hopes that he
wouldn't try to talk to them.

"Anybody home?"

Jerry came in to view from behind the front desk window, a phone to
one ear and a chart in hand. "Hey, Dr. Carter. Hold on a second."

"I'm just looking for Dave."

"I think he's sleeping in Exam Three," the desk clerk replied,
pointing, and then suddenly turned back to his phone call. "No, I said
that he was sent up to Radiology, he isn't here anymore..."

"Perfect." John flashed an appreciative smile before heading towards
Exam Three, one of his cups nearly spilling and that would've ruined
the entire surprise. Carefully, he made his way to the door and nudged
it open, light from the hall spilling onto his lover's sleeping form.
He looked so peaceful John almost didn't want to wake him up. Almost.

He crossed the room, sitting down on the edge of the exam bed, Dave's
back to him. He studied those broad shoulders, envisioning them behind
the fabric of Dave's scrub top, and then he started envisioning
everything else...broad shoulders and strong back, leading down to
that tight butt and muscular legs. He could see that sexy tattoo at
the small of Dave's back, and he could see the scars too. It didn't
faze him to think about them, they were so normal, so Dave. It was a
part of him, and John loved every part of him, scars included.

He pictured the newest one Dave had received - well, besides the one
Dave had gotten when John had nearly accidentally killed him as they
redecorated their apartment, but that was a whole other story. (But,
boy, the look on everyone's faces when Dave had come in with a cut on
his forehead and his hair full of blue paint.) The one he was really
thinking of was the one on Dave's leg, the one he'd garnered while
saving a young boy from a sinking school bus. The dumbest and bravest
thing Dave had probably ever done. Thinking about that day two months
ago always gave John the worst and best feelings in the world, because
it always made John remember how he'd almost lost Dave, but it always
made him remember just how much he loved him too.

In a way, everything and nothing had changed since then. Dave and John
were out, but no one really minded. In fact, John had been surprised
to find that people were even *happy* for them. So life went on as
usual, sort of. Abby and Luka were still dating, even though now they
were the ones trying to hide it. For a while, it hadn't mattered,
County's Rumor Mill had been too focused on Dave and John to give them
the time of day, but now that the hype had died down rumors of
marriage and babies and living together were starting to abound. The
four of them tended to double date, and John had to admit it was nice.
It was also nice that Kerry Weaver and Sandy Lopez had become closer
to them as well. Dave and Sandy tended to stick together, watching
games and drinking (soda) together, being generally loud and rude and
crude. Luckily for John, they spoke Spanish to one another, so he
didn't have to hear it. Kerry, on the other hand, wasn't so fortunate,
and occasionally while she and John were making dinner as Dave and
Sandy watched television, John would have the pleasure of seeing his
boss yell at the two of them in another language for having said
something offensive.

He smiled at the image. He smiled at his new life, with his lover and
their friends. John knew, after everything that had happened - drugs
and fights and secrets and confessions - all in all, life wasn't that bad.

Now, placing the takeout box down on the tray table nearby, he picked
up one of the cups and took off the top, leaning down and blowing the
steam towards Dave's face. Immediately his lover stirred, and only
then did John remember how much of a light sleeper he was.

"...The hell?" he murmured, turning quickly and knocking into John's
hand, spilling the hot chocolate over John's arm and his own shoulder.
They both shouted obscenities as they sat back with surprise, startled
and scalded.

"Dave!" John exclaimed, grabbing some of the napkins he'd stuffed into
his pocket and using them to wipe Dave's wet scrub top. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, as he began to wipe up John's sleeve.
The scene John envisioned was pretty amusing; John wiping up Dave's
shirt, Dave wiping up John's, like two old lovers that had been
together for decades instead of just months. "What're you doing here?"

He indicated the Styrofoam cups and the takeout box nearby. "Midnight
snack. I actually intended for you to eat it though."

Dave grinned, already over his wet scrub top and burned skin, now
focused on the takeout box. "Oh, yeah? What's is it?? And who has hot
chocolate in the middle of August?"

"I do," John retorted. "And it's almost September. Let's get
comfortable first and then I'll show you what I brought you."

"Okay."

John grabbed the box from the tray table and sat back on the bed with
Dave, and with the back of the bed up it was almost like how they'd
sit by the pool at the mansion on chase lounges, Dave tanning and John
burning. Once they were settled side by side, ankles crossed, hot
chocolate in hand, John pulled open the box.

"Brownies!" Dave exclaimed with a childlike grin. "Yes! Homemade?"
Suddenly he looked at John with a grimace, and then smiled. "Just
kidding."

John elbowed him. "Jerk. And no, they aren't homemade, they're
straight from Doc's."

"I'm not sure how much better that is," Dave quipped, and in fifteen
minutes the brownies were gone and their cups were empty, both items
strewn hastily on the floor. Dave had pulled John to him and now they
were snuggling up to one another, and this position reminded John of
last night. They'd made love in the heat of the night, the air
conditioner broken and the windows wide open, and after they'd
finished Dave had held John close, singing softly to him. John hadn't
recognized the song, but he recognized the meaning behind it: could
everything feel like this forever? And John smiled, then and now,
because with Dave anything was possible.

"John?"

"Yeah."

"Do you love me?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to be with me forever?"

He laughed softly, amused by the conversation but wondering where it
was going. "Of course I do. What are you getting at?"

"You know..." Dave replied, shrugging, "if you love me and I love you,
and you want to be with me forever and I want to be with you forever..."

He glanced at Dave with puzzlement. "Dave, what exactly are you
proposing?" His lover grinned broadly, almost giddy, causing John to
become even more confused. "Dave - "

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "I want you to marry me!"

"What?" he asked, pulling back and laughing with surprise. "Dave - "

"No, I mean it!" he interrupted fervently. "I really want you to marry
me."

"Dave," John said, sobering at the sincerity in Dave's eyes. He
couldn't be serious. "You can't be serious."

"Why not?" he asked, pouting.

"Because," John replied, as if it was the most obvious thing on the
planet. Except it was, because they couldn't get married! "We can't
get married."

"Is it a religion thing?" Dave asked. "Because if it's a religion
thing, you can convert to mine."

"It's...no, it's not a religion thing," John replied, not even trying
to comprehend how Dave could think it was because of that. A thought
struck him, so silly considering what Dave was asking him, but he had
to know: "And how come you can't convert to mine?"

"You don't practice yours. I practice mine."

"You do not."

"Do too," he insisted. "My mom makes me go to church Christmas and
Easter. That's practicing."

He shook his head, brushing the brief interlude off. "Dave..."

"Well, if it's not a religion thing," he said, when John trailed off,
"then what is it? Is it because we're two men? Or is it because we
can't have a priest at our wedding? Or maybe because you can't wear
white, since, you know, we've already consummated our relationship."
Playfully, he pushed his hips towards John, who pulled away with a
grin, swatting at his lover. "Come on, John. You know you want to."

John looked at him. "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

"Hell, yes," he stated, nodding vigorously with a broad grin. "David
Malucci is ready to be tied down, and there is no one on this planet
that I'd rather be tied down by than you."

"Thanks...I think."

"So what do you say?" Dave asked, nudging him. "Will you marry me?"

John grinned, as if any other response was impossible - which, of
course, it was. "Of course I will."

"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, punching the air in victory. "I don't have a
ring or anything because I just started thinking about it, but I
couldn't wait to ask you. But guys don't wear engagement rings, right?
That's weird. We just get rings and give them to each other, and then
get married right? Oh, man, I can't wait to tell my mom, she's going
to be so psyched, I - "

"Dave."

"What?"

"Shut up and kiss me already."

"I knew I was forgetting something," Dave replied with a sly smile,
before slipping his hands on either side of John's face and pulling
him into a thorough kiss. Slow and intoxicating with just a little bit
of tongue, and John was left breathless once they eased out of it. He
was also grinning like a fool, but that was beside the point. "I can't
wait to kiss you forever. Man, I can't wait to marry you."

"When should we do it?"

"Now."

John smiled. "I mean marry."

"Saturday."

"Dave."

"I don't know," he replied, lying back against the bed with his head
resting against John's shoulder, who was trailing fingertips over
Dave's thigh. "What about May? I love May. But that seems so far away."

"Weddings take a long time to plan," John pointed out, and he got a
warm feeling in his belly just thinking about planning it with Dave,
his future husband. He smiled as he laced his fingers with his
fiancé's, already loving the way that sounded. "So who gets to be the
bride?"

"I will," Dave replied brightly. "I can wear a white tux and you can
wear a black one."

"What, no wedding dress?"

"Ha-ha, I don't think so," Dave said, pulling a face. "So since I'm
the bride, do I get a bridal party?"

"Sure. Who's going to be your bride's maid?"

He paused only briefly. "Abby. I'll pick out a really nice dress,
she'll love it." John could almost imagine what Dave would pick out:
some skimpy red dress and fuck-me heels, fishnets a strong
possibility. "Who's going to be your best man?"

He smiled. "Dr. Benton. I'm sure he has nothing better to do in
Schaumburg."

"Make sure I'm there when you tell him," Dave stated. "Imagine the
look on his face!"

"So who's going to walk you down the aisle?" John asked, but he
already knew the answer.

"My mom," he replied, and they settled into a comfortable silence. He
felt Dave kiss his shoulder and had to smile, and that got him
thinking about Dave kissing his lips, his neck, his body...Dave's
shift was over in a few hours, and John began to plan ways to
celebrate their engagement. Maybe he'd get some sparkling cider in a
bottle, make a little picnic on the coffee table. Dave would open the
door and see everything and be amazed, then they'd shove all the food
aside like they do in the movies and -

"John?"

"Yeah."

"Just to let you know," Dave continued matter-of-factly, "that just
because I'm the bride, *still* doesn't mean I'm the woman of this
relationship."

Yeah, John thought with a laugh, and Dave protested with a kiss, and
John protested by tickling him. And as Dave began to hiccup with
laughter, as John realized that everything *would* feel like this
forever, he had to admit that life really wasn't that bad at all.

-------------------------------

The End.
You must login (register) to review.