------------------------------- Chapter Four: Walk the Sky -------------------------------
Skin as my shield
But who's to save me from inside?
Retched as if
To procreate for genocide
-------------------------------
He was running. Running where? Running upstairs. Running up stairs? Yes. He was running up stairs. Running up the stairs to get...to get where? To his room. It was safe in his room. There was no danger in his room. It was safe. There was no danger. But...why was he running at all? To get away...to get away from something. But to get away from what or whom? Was someone chasing him? Yes. Someone was chasing him. Why? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember...but that didn't really matter. All he knew was that he had to run up the stairs to get to his room because it was safe there, and apparently, he was in danger now.
No matter how fast he ran, no matter how long, he seemed to stay in the same place. He wasn't going anywhere except nowhere, and he had to get somewhere fast, or else whoever it was that was chasing him was going to catch him.
Oh God. He could hear who was chasing him, he could hear HIM. He could hear HIS heavy footsteps on the stairs behind him, he could hear HIS ragged breath, and he could hear that HE was getting closer.
And he knew that it was too late when he could feel HIS breath on the back of his neck. He knew that it was too late when HE grabbed him by the hair and yanked him downwards, causing him to lose his balance and fall. Then suddenly, HE was gone, and all that was left were the stairs, though it seemed now that all of those stairs he had climbed had caught up with him, and were now an endless stream of stairs. But he knew there was a floor because he could feel it coming as he fell, he could feel the end coming, he could feel *his* end coming.
Drunken laughter floated through the air as a sharp pain ripped through him. But it wasn't from the floor, he hadn't hit the floor yet. What was it from? Had he been struck? No...he'd been...God, what was happening? The pain was too excruciating to handle. But where did it come from? He couldn't figure it out, he couldn't figure any of it out. When was the floor coming? God, when was the floor coming? He need the floor, because with the floor came his end, and he wanted it to end, please, God, just let it end, let the pain end!
And with the floor the end did come. But not of him, of his dream.
-------------------------------
See how we tried to fly
Wings are our kryptonite
-------------------------------
David Malucci opened his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dim glow that came with sunrise. It was one of those rare times when he didn't startle awake like he usually did, but he knew it was only because of the many beers he had consumed last night. He had been hoping that in his intoxicated state he would have had no dreams at all; Dave knew it wasn't the best way to avoid the nightmares, but it worked. Much to his dismay, he *had* dreamt last night, and although that dream had been frightening, it was far better than usual the dreams, which weren't really dreams at all, but nightmares.
Sometimes he would awaken with nothing but the memories of the fear and anger and hatred he had felt during his dreams. Sometimes he would awake with the images so vivid that he could actually still see them in front of him, and would have to take a few moments of screaming and fighting until he realized that nothing was there, that it had just been a dream.
He didn't like going to sleep, it was one of the reasons why he got so little of it. He was always up until odd hours of the morning, only finally going to bed when his body didn't allow him to stay up any longer.
Memories of last night came to him, slowly but surely. He was almost afraid to turn around in fear that it had all been a fantasy, something that his imagination had created, and maybe something that he wanted to happen so badly he actually believed it had. Perhaps he was finally losing his mind. Or perhaps the drugs and alcohol were causing him to hallucinate. He hoped that that wasn't the case, but he couldn't will himself to look, so he lay there, facing the wall with his back turned to the other side of the bed.
If it wasn't his imagination, then last night, he and John Carter had gone out to a bar, came back to his apartment, and had soon come into his room, their lips locked in a kiss and their hands roaming each other's bodies. Soon clothes had been discarded, both of them undressing each other as their kiss never faltered. When they were both down to their boxers, Dave had led Carter to the bed. He sat down on the bed, and Carter stood between his legs and in front of his growing erection. Dave reached out and took Carter's hands, as if to pull him down onto the bed with him, when the senior resident caught sight of the tent in the younger man's fabric. Then he had suddenly stepped back, looking away as if he were almost ashamed.
"What's wrong?" Dave asked, slightly confused, sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to make Carter make eye contact with him.
"I...I don't think I can do this," Carter said, not allowing himself to look at Dave. How could he have been so stupid? He had been so wrapped up in that moment he had mentioned earlier that he hadn't thought about where this was eventually going to go. Well, sure, he knew where it was going to go, but he hadn't actually thought about it. And he wasn't ready for it. "I'm sorry, Dave. I really wanted to do this, but I can't..." There was mutual hesitation. "If you want me to leave, then I'll leave."
"Hey...Carter," Dave said, taking the older resident's arm in his hand as he started to bend down and pick up his clothes, which were strewn about the floor. Carter stood upright, but still wouldn't make eye contact. "I told you: we don't have to do anything that you don't want to. If you just want to get in bed and cuddle, then that's fine, man."
"Can we do that?" he asked, finally looking Dave in his eyes. Dave smiled softly and nodded. He'd actually only been kidding when he'd said that, but if Carter wanted to, then that would be just fine with him. "You wouldn't mind?"
"Of course not," he replied, keeping his smile. He wanted to show Carter that he wasn't just in this for the sex, that he was in it for everything. Dave had this need to be needed, and wanted desperately to feel - no not just feel, but be close to someone. Dave nodded towards the bed, which was looking mighty inviting, especially since he'd be sharing it with the one person that he'd had the hugest crush on since they'd run to the construction site together and worked with one another to do a blind intubation and save a life. "Come on."
Carter dropped his clothes and Dave took his hand, leading him to the bed. They crawled under the covers and finally wound up cuddling, at first coming together awkwardly but soon enough embracing. Carter lay with his head on Dave's chest, wrapped in the junior resident's arms, both resting comfortably under the linens.
"Dave?" Carter asked tentatively, though Dave could hear the curiousness in his voice. "When did you first realize that you were...gay?"
"First of all..." Dave said, a smile playing on his lips. He played with Carter's brown hair, twirling it about his fingers, then stroking his head gently. "First of all, I'm not gay. That would just be a sin against womankind. And I first realized that I was attracted to guys too when I was in high school, probably freshmen year. At first I was sort of in denial about it, I didn't really want it to be that way. I didn't want to be different, you know? But then...I guess I kind of embraced it, though I kept it to myself."
"How did you...come out to all of your friends?" Carter asked, feeling as content as a purring kitty as Dave stroked his head. He placed his hand on Dave's chest, slowly and softly trailing it down the side of his torso, feeling his ribs and muscles. Dave flinched slightly.
"That tickles, Carter."
Carter smiled and stopped, letting his hand rest on the side of Dave's stomach. "Sorry. And try calling me John."
"Okay...John. Now how did I come out?" Dave asked himself, thinking back to high school. He smiled at the memory of his first boyfriend. It had sure been an experience - one that he wouldn't forget ever. They had been together for almost a year, and they had really been in love. "I was a sophomore. His name was Steven Drake and he was a junior. I'd had the hugest crush on him for years, and I'd heard some rumors that he was gay. I'd never talked with him because we ran with different crowds. I had my group of friends and he had his."
"What did you do?" Carter asked, intrigued by the whole story.
"I didn't do anything. *He* talked to *me*." Dave smiled, remembering the day in the cafeteria at high school.
-------------------------------
I wanted to feel this
I'm thinking of trying to try
Cause if I get my ins
I'd walk the sky
-------------------------------
"Look who it is..." Miranda whispered, nudging Dave in the ribs. Dave tossed her a look. As if he hadn't noticed that the guy he had had the *biggest* crush on forever was standing in front of him in line. She nodded towards Steven. "So..."
"Yeah?" Dave asked. Like he was just going to hit on Steven Drake in the middle of the cafeteria? Miranda suddenly "tripped" over her own feet and knocked into him, causing him to bump into Steven. He quickly regained his own balance, then, looking away abashedly, he apologized. "Sorry."
"It's all right," Steven replied, a grin on his face. Dave reached for an apple, but Steven grabbed for it and handed it to him.
Dave smiled. "Thanks."
"Malucci, right?" he asked. Dave stood there in shocked silence. Steven Drake, the junior he'd been head-over-heels for, for about two years now, knew his name? He suddenly couldn't find his voice. It's not like he would've been able to tell him if he was Malucci or not even if he could find it - he couldn't even remember his name.
Another nudge from his best friend. "Yes," he replied quickly. Steven smiled at his awkwardness. This sophomore had obviously never done this before. But Steven had noticed the way Dave looked at him when he thought he wasn't looking, and he was flattered, really. This sophomore was actually kinda cute. "Call me Dave."
"I'm Steven," he said, keeping his smile. Steven reached the cashier and paid for his food, and Dave wasn't that delighted that their encounter with each other was going to be over so quickly. Now they would go their separate ways, and probably never speak again. His chance was over, gone like fallen leaf caught in the wind or some other really bad metaphor. He was pleasantly surprised when Steven waited for him. "Hey, uh...you want to sit with me today?"
"Sure," he answered, then glanced at Miranda. She smiled slyly, silently wishing him luck. "Where should we sit?"
Miranda knew Dave better than he probably knew himself. They'd been friends since childhood, and with her living on his street, it made it easier for them to stay together throughout the years. She'd discovered that he was bisexual about three years ago, and discovered that he'd been totally in love with Steven about two years ago. She was glad that something was finally happening.
Dave turned away from Miranda, then moved toward an empty table in a secluded part of the cafeteria. He sat down next to Steven, and was surprised that the conversation flowed easily. He had always assumed that he and Steven were very different people, but he discovered that they had similar likes and dislikes. Both enjoyed hockey, though only Dave played for the high school, both of their favorite classes were science, which they were in together (which explained why it was Dave's favorite class) because Steven had failed it last year, and both enjoyed reading, though Steven was more into science fiction while Dave was into realistic fiction.
The bell rang all too soon.
"Uh..." Dave said, looking down with a sheepish smile. He looked back up to Steven, whose knowing smile showed that he was almost amused. Stutter, then frustrated breath. God, he was so terrible at this. "What're you doing this Friday?"
Another knowing smile. "Nothing. But *you* have a hockey game."
"Right," Dave remembered. Jesus, he was so embarrassed. He was just talking about how much he loved hockey and now he didn't even remember their big game was on Friday. He wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there. "What about -"
"What about tonight?" Steven asked as the next period of lunch started filing in. They weren't even getting up from their table yet. Dave knew he'd be late to class, but that was the last thing on his mind right now.
"I can't go out during the week," Dave said, rubbing the nape of his neck. Steven tossed him a questioning look. "Strict dad..."
"Then Saturday?" he tried.
"Sure. Saturday's good," Dave replied. They stood from their table, grabbing their trays and dumping them on the way out.
"See you in bio, Dave," Steven replied, his hand brushing over Dave's. Dave didn't let himself jerk in surprise. He stayed cool, he had to stay cool.
"Right," he said, wishing today wasn't Wednesday, but Friday at the least. "See you in bio."
-------------------------------
All that is ill
And all I fight to keep inside
Rips me until
The point of breaking's no surprise
-------------------------------
"All I remember thinking is how Saturday was so far away," Dave said, gently tracing his fingers over John's neck. "But Saturday did come, and we ended up going to a movie. Of course, we didn't end up actually *watching* the movie, if you know what I mean."
-------------------------------
See how we tried to fly
Wings are our kryptonite
-------------------------------
Dave stood in the theater lobby, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as he glanced around the place. There was an arcade next to him, where kids of various ages were playing games, mostly kids around his age, this being a regular hangout for a lot of them in his high school. He recognized a girl from his school playing some sort of car racing game with her boyfriend. Dave couldn't help but think about how...normal that was, and here he was waiting for his *male* date to show up.
It was strange to think of this as a date, because Dave had never been on a date with a guy before. He wondered what that would be like. Would they do stuff usual people did on dates, like hold hands and flirt and...kiss? Were they going to kiss? Dave knew he was good at kissing girls - at least no one had ever complained before - but he'd never kissed a guy before. What if he was bad at it? What if he totally messed the whole date up because he sucked at kissing a guy? He'd never be able to live with himself after that, he'd swear off guys forever.
Dave's eyes shifted to a couple playing tonsil hockey near the photo booth. His eyes shifted to the floor. He was suddenly having second thoughts about this whole "coming out" thing. He was sure he was prepared for this, prepared to be seen on a date with a guy, but now he wasn't so sure. He knew that he was still the same guy he'd been before he discovered he was bisexual, but what if *they* didn't know that? What if people started talking, calling him names or shunning him just because he was bisexual? What if he got beat up? Dave knew he could handle himself, but what if his friends on the hockey team ganged up on him? What would his father say? Oh, God. He didn't even want to think about *that*. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this.
"Hey, Dave," he heard from next to him. He turned to see Steven standing before him, looking as magnificent as ever. God, the guy was hot. What the hell was Dave doing with a stud like him? They headed towards the ticket line together, the movie "Batman" on the agenda for the night. Dave suddenly found himself wondering if people knew that Steven was gay. He had, what made him think that others didn't? What if they saw them together and assumed something - assumed the right thing: that they were on a date together? "I'm glad you showed up. On the phone you didn't sound so sure that you were going to come."
"I wasn't sure if I could get away," Dave replied with a shrug, flashing a winning smile in hopes that Steven wouldn't ask any more questions. He was relieved when the older boy didn't. They reached the end of the line, and Steven asked for two tickets, then pulled money out of his wallet to pay for it. "I've got money."
"Don't worry about it," Steven said, waving Dave's hand away before the younger boy could reach into his back pocket and pull out his wallet. He cast a smile at Dave as he gave the clerk the money. "The whole night's on me."
"Okay," Dave replied slowly, almost reluctantly. Okay, so now he was officially on a date. But on any date that he'd ever been on, he'd always been the gentlemen and paid for his date...but now *he* was the date and *he* was being paid for. It was an odd feeling that he had right now, but yet it was a pleasant one. Dave stuffed his hands into his pockets once more as they moved towards the snack bar, but Dave's appetite was totally gone due to his nervousness and slight apprehension. He was almost sure if he ate anything he'd puke.
Fairly soon, they were sitting inside the dark theater, off to the side, away from the few people that were in the theater that night, watching Michael Keaton moving across the screen in a black cape and cowl, fighting the Joker's cronies to save Gotham City. Dave had wanted to see this movie, having always been a fan of the comic book character, but now that they were actually here, together, he couldn't concentrate on anything except Steven. The beautiful young man was sitting so close to him, the only thing separating them being the armrest. If Dave wanted - if Dave had the balls, actually - he could reach out and touch him.
Dave knew that if he'd been with a girl, he'd be a lot closer to her, so to speak. He'd be holding her hand or touching her. He would've kissed her already. They'd probably be engaged in a lip-lock right now. So why couldn't he do it now, when he was with a guy? He wished he could do it now...
Steven turned to look at Dave, and the sophomore was so surprised he couldn't look away. So they sat there, staring at each other, their faces illuminated by the movie screen, the shadows complimenting their facial bone structure. Steven reached out with one hand, and Dave watched with amazed eyes as it touched the side of his face. Then the hand led his face towards Steven's, and very soon their lips were very close to each other. Tentatively, with his heart pounding in his chest as if it were trying to get free from his ribcage, Dave touched his lips to Steven's. But the kiss was short-lived, Dave pulling away quickly and leaning back in his seat, his heart hammering even harder than it had before.
He had just kissed another guy.
And it felt good.
Then, abruptly, Dave turned back to Steven, cupped Steven's face in his hands, brought Steven's lips to his, and gave all he had to kiss Steven. And he made sure he kissed Steven like he hoped he had never been kissed before.
-------------------------------
I wanted to feel this
I'm thinking of trying to try
Cause if I get my ins
I'd walk the sky
-------------------------------
"Weren't you afraid someone would see you?" John asked, mild surprise in his tired voice.
"Well...not really," Dave replied. "I mean, it was pretty dark in the theater and we were pretty much by ourselves. And the point of outing yourself is to...I don't know...out yourself?"
"Oh," John replied, mostly because he couldn't figure out what else to say, really. They fell into contemplative silence, both lost in their own thoughts, though both weren't really thinking of anything in particular. John yawned while saying: "Did it work out between you two?"
"Yeah," Dave replied, though there was a hint of something in his voice that John couldn't quite figure out in his tired stupor.
"I'm glad..." he heard John softly say as the senior resident snuggled up to Dave even more, if that was even possible.
Dave smiled as he felt John's slow, even breath on his chest as the older resident fell asleep in his arms. He listened to John's breathing, then tried to breathe with him, but wasn't able to because he couldn't get his breath that shallow and slow.
Dave stared into the darkness, still stroking John's hair. This was everything he'd ever wanted, but he wondered how long it would last. As much as he hoped that it would be the same in the morning, Dave knew, from experience, that usually it wasn't. But John was different...he would understand and accept tonight, wouldn't he? And if not? Dave didn't want to think about that, he just wanted to be right here, right now, in the moment, in John's arms, in a warm bed, with a warm feeling. Finally, hours later, the junior resident had fallen asleep.
Now, as Dave stared at the gray wall in front of him, he finally mustered up the courage glance over his shoulder, and when he did, he could see John Carter lying in bed next to him, could see John Carter's back facing towards him, could see John Carter. He smiled, then turned fully and moved closer to him, wrapping his arms carefully around him so he wouldn't wake him. Closing his eyes with a content sigh, he once more was enveloped by sleep.
-------------------------------
I wanted to feel this
I'm thinking of trying to try
Cause if I get my ins
I'd walk the sky
-------------------------------
John opened his eyes slowly. He was in an unfamiliar environment, one that he couldn't even remotely recognize. The walls were a dull gray with a blue patterned border at the ceiling. The bed sheets he was surrounded by were a blue pattern as well, with some splashes of gray. He tried to move, but then realized that there were arms wrapped around his waist.
Wait. Last night...what had happened last night? The night slowly came to him in bits and pieces. He managed fit them all together like some outrageous jigsaw puzzle without all of the pieces included, and finally could remember what had happened.
He had slept with David Malucci.
Well, he hadn't *slept* with him, but he had slept with him. He was, right now, in David Malucci's apartment, with David Malucci sleeping behind him, wrapped up in David Malucci's arms, wasn't he?
The feeling of having Dave's strong arms wrapped around him was oddly pleasant. During his previous relationships - which had been all with women - he had always been the one to hold them in his arms. But now that he was the one with strong, comforting arms wrapped around him, he had to say he could get used to this.
What was he thinking? He was talking about another *man*. He was talking about Dave Malucci! Was he really prepared to form a relationship with a member of the same sex? Was it really what he wanted?
On the other hand, he was curious. What *would* a relationship with another man be like?
Jesus! What in God's name was *wrong* with him?! What would his Gamma think? What would his *parents* think! This certainly wouldn't blow over with them well at all. But did he really care about what they thought? God! He was talking about getting into a relationship with another man! With David Malucci! Not the most discreet man to ever walk the planet, that was for sure.
To take his mind off of it before it drove him insane, which, by far, it already had, he studied Dave's hands; one was lying on the bed, trapped underneath him, and the other hung limply over his side. He picked up the hand that was free and looked at the silver ring on it. There wasn't anything particularly special about it, it was just a plain band. He found himself wondering where Dave had gotten it and why. He turned Dave's hand, looking at his fingers and his palm, then lightly traced his lifeline with his thumb. Following it to his arm, he recognized a faint scar that he hadn't noticed before: one long slash going down his wrist. Upon inspection of his other wrist, he saw the same scar.
An alarm clock went off, startling him and causing him to flinch involuntarily, interrupting him from his thoughts. He felt Dave move in the bed, slamming an open palm over the clock to shut it off as abruptly as it had turned on. Then Dave wrapped the arm that he had taken away from John's waist back around him.
"You have work?" John asked, daring to break the silence with a simple question. Just don't ask about last night, he thought. Don't ask about last night. If Dave mentioned it, then he mentioned it. Otherwise, do *not* ask about last night.
"Yeah," Dave murmured in his barely-awake-half-asleep mode. He buried his head in the pillow, holding his breath as he did so, then turned onto his back and let his breath out. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his hand, he glanced at the clock. Six o'clock. Too early, too damn early. He closed his eyes again, slightly grimacing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck. I need an Aspirin."
"Maybe you shouldn't go to work," John suggested, scooting to the other side of the bed once he was out of Dave's arms to put distance between the two. "If you're not feeling well, I mean."
"I'll be fine. It's not the first time I've worked with a hangover," he said, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair. He scrubbed his face with his hands, then glanced back at John with a sleepy smile. "But thanks for caring."
John smiled back, almost unaware of it until it happened.
A gray ball of fluff jumped onto the bed, causing John to furrow his eyebrows before casting Dave a puzzling glance. He cocked an eyebrow as the cat nuzzled Dave's arm, obviously having taken a liking to him.
"You kept him?" John asked.
Dave shrugged, petting the cat. "I promised the kid I'd make sure he got a good home. I figure mine is as good as any."
"I thought you were allergic."
"I am," Dave replied, petting the cat and cooing gently to it. "They're called allergy pills. Right, Kermit?"
"Kermit?" John asked, raising both eyebrows now.
Dave looked away sheepishly. "I never got the furface's name. Why? Is Kermit stupid? Should I name him something like John Carter?"
"No. Kermit's fine. You just act like you never had a pet before."
"I never did," Dave replied, rising from the bed and picking up the cat in his arms. He held it up to his face and smiled at it, Dave cooing again. He placed it on the floor and turned to John again. "I told you, my old man never let me have any pets."
"Right," he remembered, feeling stupid for asking.
"I'm going to take a shower," Dave said as he moved to the adjoining bathroom, closing the door behind him. A few moments later, John heard the shower running. He contemplated leaving, just gathering his clothes and getting out of there as fast as possible, but then he thought better of it. He at least owed Dave an explanation for his behavior last night, which was something he could barely explain to himself, let alone Dave.
"Damn it," he breathed, pressing his palms to his eyes until he saw nothing but disconnected shapes in funny colors. He brought his hands down from his eyes, then let out another sigh. He had a feeling he'd be doing that a lot in the future. He turned in bed, getting a better look at the room. It was pretty dull now that he thought about it. There were a few spots on the wall near the ceiling that had peeling paint, and the carpet was permanently only a former color of what it once was after much use, probably from Dave and the tenants before him.
After about fifteen more minutes, Dave emerged into the room wearing only a small towel around his waist. John quickly looked at the ceiling, studying a small stain from water. He heard Dave shuffle through his closet, then pull out clothes.
He wouldn't look at him. John willed himself not to look at Dave. It wasn't right. You didn't just suddenly feel attracted to your *male* coworker! His alter ego screamed at him: you weren't yourself. That was one hell of an excuse. If Dave asked, he could just say he was wrapped up in that moment and pure passion he'd been talking about. As much as he knew it was going to kill Dave to hear that, his alter ego was going to win this one.
Now fully clothed, Dave stood next to the bed. He had tried to catch Carter checking him out, and was very dissatisfied that he hadn't done so. But the senior resident was probably just a little insecure about himself right now. Dave knew he was when he was faced with a similar situation.
"I gotta get to work now," Dave said. "I think I'm going to be late."
"You can take my Jeep if you'd like," John found himself saying, then immediately chastised himself.
"I can't drive," he replied, shaking his head.
"Why not?"
"I never learned how," he answered with a shrug. He looked away briefly, pursing his lips, then turned back to John, running his tongue over the front of his teeth, deciding what to say now. He suddenly sat down on the bed. Pursed lips again. Several more times. Now a deep breath. Then finally: "Listen...Ca - John..."
"Yeah?" he said before Dave had time to say anything more.
"Last night - "
"What about it?" John quickly interrupted, not daring eye contact.
Dave looked at him in surprise. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to ask him if he was okay with last night, and then John was supposed to say yes, that he was. And that he wanted to go all the way next time. Now he hadn't even had the chance to get past two words. This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all.
"Uh..." Dave looked away quickly, suddenly confused and utterly mortified. What had happened? Last night...last night what, Malucci? he asked himself. Last night you took your *straight* coworker to your apartment, and you almost fucked him. He backed out, and now he wants nothing to do with you. He probably thinks you're disgusting. What did you expect? John's not that kind of guy, idiot. He probably never wants to speak to you again. "I guess...I guess I'll, um..." He stood abruptly. "You can show yourself out. Just remember to lock the door behind you."
"No problem," John said, playing with the bed sheets. He wasn't into these types of relationships, but he almost felt somehow obligated to explain himself to Dave. Glancing up, he could see the clear hurt and astonishment in Dave's eyes, and now he knew he had to. "Dave...listen...I'm sorry about...I'm sorry if I led you to believe anything, but I'm not..."
"No, it's okay," Dave said, waving it off before he could finish. John got the feeling that this was something Dave was used to. Great. Now on top of having to deal with this whole inner conflict he was having with himself, he was also going to feel guilty. Dave looked up at John and smiled, but it soon faded. "I'll, uh...I'll see you...*Carter*."
Dave turned and grabbed his jacket off of the chair in front of his desk, and then picked up his bookbag off of the floor and quickly left the bedroom, closing the door rather roughly behind him.
Sorry if I led you to believe anything...
He scoffed. Yeah, so was he. But what had he been expecting? He had made that mistake with Luka, and now here he was, making that same mistake with John. At least he'd spent one night with the man of his dreams. And if that was all he could get, then he was at least thankful for that.
-------------------------------
I wanted to feel this
I'm thinking of trying to try
Cause if I get my ins
I'd walk the sky
-------------------------------
Copyright Footer', 'This site is not affiliated in any way with "ER", its writers or production company, or NBC, and makes no profit from the show. The ERROS skin is by Brihana. The script is eFiction version 3.4.2© Tammy Keefer, http://efiction.org\r\n