------------------------------------- Chapter Nine: Somebody Else -------------------------------------
Can't change this feeling
I'm way out of touch
Can't change this meaning
When it means too much
-------------------------------------
At this point and time in his life, John Carter was very, very confused. There were some things he wasn't sure about, some things that he was, and there was one thing that he definitely knew, but he wasn't sure if he particularly liked it.
One thing that John was sure about was that since the stabbing, he hadn't felt safe. There was always a feeling in the back of his mind whenever he entered the hospital - especially when he entered Curtain Area Three - which he couldn't exactly place. Relationships had gone awry because of this feeling; he never felt comfortable with his lovers, always felt as if something could happen, something like what had happened to him almost two years ago this coming Valentine's Day, destroying everything. He didn't allow that to happen the only way he could: he stopped the relationship.
He didn't go from one woman to another or anything like that, it was usually just a cycle. It would start out fine, he'd finally be glad that he found someone, and then a month or so later, this feeling, that stupid feeling, would creep up on him, invading his mind and drowning out his optimism about the relationship, and he'd have to end it before anything serious could happen.
With Dave, he felt safe. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe. That had to mean something, didn't it? It had to mean that this wasn't just some sort of experiment, some sort of walk on the wild side for him. He hoped that Dave felt the same way, because he wasn't sure if he could handle this experience and have the reputed lady-killer throw him away as soon as he was finished with him.
John rolled over, wrapping himself in a type of cocoon with the linens, feeling an emptiness that wasn't much unlike the one next to him in bed. Ever since Dave had left for work that morning from his apartment, he couldn't stop thinking about the man - and not just now, but since they'd first slept together, which had been weeks ago. He just couldn't get him out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. God, it was like when he was using drugs again, but this time Dave was the drug, and he was addicted again. He wondered what it all meant. He'd never done this sort of thing before, so how could he possibly know? He'd usually go to his Gamma for advice, but the risk of her having a heart attack and keeling over right then and there when faced with this particular problem.
His grandmother...now, she was a factor that would have to be dealt with sooner or later, probably more sooner than later, since she was beginning to become suspicious. Lately, John had been away from the mansion more often, sometimes seeing Dave in between their shifts at the hospital, and spending nights at his apartment. And as they saw each other every chance they got, and as the nights John slept over occurred more and more often, she was beginning to ask questions.
"When are we going to meet her?" she'd even asked casually one morning at breakfast.
"Who?"
"Your new girlfriend," was the simple reply, and John had almost choked on his scrambled eggs. He'd quickly managed to duck out of it, explaining that they weren't too serious about each other yet and he didn't want to have her meet his family until he knew they were in fact serious, and Gamma had let it slide - for now, he knew it was only for now. Eventually, if this thing lasted, which was the real question at hand here, she would ask him again, this time refusing to take no for an answer. Then he would be able to ask for advice, unless she *did* keel over and die of shock.
So for right now, he'd have to simply wing it and just go with the flow. And, for now, he liked the flow. If it wanted to take him somewhere, he would go willingly. Just where it would take him was the real question. This was one of the things that he wasn't sure of.
He was, though, sure of some things about Dave, little things that he'd discovered while spending time with the younger man. Dave loved to cook, making everything from simple burgers to fancy things like filet mignon. And he was good at it too. And John loved to watch him cook, loved watching the way his hands moved deftly over the stove, the way Dave slightly swayed his hips to the music he would play on the stereo while he did so, sometimes humming softly and sometimes singing, his voice beautiful, like a mating call, managing to summon John from any room in the apartment.
Dave also gets up in the middle of the night, puttering around the house, either cleaning or reading or watching television, or some other such thing. John had first found this out when turning over in bed, and feeling only the cold mattress. He'd gotten up and ventured out into the apartment to find Dave sitting on the couch, reading a medical text.
"Hey, Dave," he'd said, pulling his robe tighter around himself. Dave looked up from his book, smiling. "What are you doing awake?"
"Couldn't sleep," he'd quickly replied, closing the text and placing it on the coffee table. "What about you?"
"Got lonely," he'd said, sitting down next to Dave on the couch, curling his long legs underneath him. Dave yawned then, arching his back, and as his robe opened a bit, John caught sight of a scar on his chest. John knew the reason why Dave woke up in the middle of the night, sometimes out of breath, sometimes screaming, and why he generally stayed awake until odd hours of the morning. Once, he'd even asked what the nightmares were about, but Dave had made light of it, saying that they were silly and not worth talking about, brushing it off. But when John had persisted, he'd snapped that he just didn't want to talk about it. Ever.
And Dave was right: he didn't want to know, because he knew that whatever made Dave wake up in the middle of the night every night, drenched in sweat and screaming in terror, had to be horrible. So John had taken the easy way out and dropped it. And that was the end of that.
John groaned, turning in bed once more. It just wasn't as comfortable without Dave in it, but it was still far too early to get up and do anything; it was only six o'clock in the morning. He figured that he could feed the cat as he promised Dave he would, and then go home, but he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay here, until his half-shift started. And, yes, he had some clothes over here, along with some toiletries. He remembered when Dave had brought it up during dinner one day:
"You know, John..." he'd said casually, throwing some spices over the chicken cutlets he was cooking over the stove. John had looked up from the kitchen table, where he was drinking some soda, watching Dave cook. "Instead of having to go back to your house in the morning, why don't you just bring some stuff over here? Doesn't seem right to make you go all the way home if you want to spend the night, you know?"
"Sure," John had replied, though he wasn't sure why. This had been about a couple weeks into the...relationship? Could John even call it that? So, John hadn't actually known why he'd said yes in reply. But he did know that he'd been delighted that Dave had even suggested the idea, even as he wondered what was happening to him, to *them*.
Tonight though, John's half-shift started a half-hour after Dave got off. Dave had realized their dilemma while getting ready for work that morning, in search of something to wear, and he'd begun to mope about how by the time Dave came home, John would have to leave. John had simply smiled from his cocoon in the bedcovers, watching Dave scramble around the apartment, rushing before he was late, and had told Dave that he would leave early, and meet him at Doc's, and they could enjoy a late lunch or early dinner, depending on how you looked at it. He smiled now, glad to know that he'd be able to spend some time with Dave today.
Finally finding a position that he was comfortable with, John curled up into a fetal position, inhaling the scent of Dave from the covers. Dave had the most incredible scent. He closed his eyes, letting out a content sigh, burying his head into the pillows as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Oh, wait, that's right. What was the thing that John was definitely sure about but wasn't sure if he particularly liked it?
He was falling in love with David Malucci.
-------------------------------------
Never been so lonely
Never felt so good
Can't be the only one
Misunderstood
-------------------------------------
"Gina, stop that!"
"I'm not Gina!"
"Tammy, sorry."
"I'm not Tammy!"
"Well, whoever you are, just stop it! You're giving me a headache!!"
"Mommy gets headaches a lot."
"It's no wonder why!" Dave snapped at the little girl standing before him. She stopped pounding on the instrument tray table with a piece of metal that one of her brothers had broken off of an IV pole, and immediately burst into tears. Dave sighed, picking her up, and she began to get tears and snot all over his scrub top. "I'm sorry, sweetie, I'm just a little worn out, that's all. Don't cry, okay? Please stop crying?"
He held the crying six-year-old in his arms, his eyes closed as he rubbed his temples with his free hand, attempting to rub away his growing headache. During his shift, he'd encountered this family of seven - six kids and one exhausted mother. One of the children had fallen and cut up his arm, and Dave had been the unlucky doctor to be assigned to suture him. To make things worse, Abby, being the people person that she was, offered to take the mother to the cafeteria, because the poor women never got a break from her children. So, of course, Dave had naturally been stuck babysitting six screaming, whining, disruptive brats.
"You jerk!" That was the only warning he got before a swift kick to his shin. He turned to Gina's - Tammy's - no, *Eliza's* nine-year-old brother with surprise, wondering just what the hell that was for. "You made my sister cry!"
"I'm gonna make you cry in a second if you don't start behaving like a human being!" he said, something catching his eye in the corner of the room. "Tommy! Get out of that cabinet and you better put those down or I'm going to staple them to your head!" The boy immediately dropped the four-by-fours, running away from them before the mean doctor carried out his threat. Another kick. "Hey! Stop that!"
"You leave my brothers and sisters alone!" the little boy - whose name Dave could not remember for the life of him - said defiantly, his arms crossed over his chest. "You aren't our mother and you can't tell us what to do!"
"Kid, you are *lucky* I'm not your mother!" Dave said, aiming a threatening finger at him. "If I was I swear to God, I'd - " Suddenly, the little girl in his arms let out a sneeze right in his face, and he gasped in surprise as he closed his eyes, opening them once more to see the six kids laughing at him. He glared at the little girl in his arms, biting back a string of obscenities that would make a sailor blush. So instead, he said a simple: "Bless you."
"Thank you," Eliza replied sweetly, smiling innocently.
"You're fucking welcome," he said, losing his composure slightly. Almost instantly, the children gasped and pointed, giggling as they offered "Oohh's," otherwise interpreted as, "You're gonna get in trouble!" He sighed, rolling his eyes, and then checked his watch before turning to Eliza with a strained smile. "When Abby gets back here, she's going to get it."
-------------------------------------
I remind myself of somebody else
-------------------------------------
A few hours later, with the brats safely at home where they could no longer be a menace to society, Dave sat at the Admin desk, his headache a full-blown migraine by now. And, just his luck, a couple of those brats had been sick, and the Junior Resident had now caught the cold they'd been harboring. Great, Dave thought as he sneezed - and then proceeded to do so several more times.
"Would you stop it already?" Randi snapped from the other side of the admin desk, looking up from her Vogue with annoyance.
He glanced at her incredulously. "Shut up. As if I can help it?"
"Hello," Randi said, holding her hands out as if to show him his surroundings. He briefly looked around before returning his gaze back to her. "You're a doctor, and you're in an ER. Diagnose yourself, take something, and you'll be fine by tomorrow."
"Jeeze, Randi," Dave said sarcastically, standing. "I'm surprised you aren't a doctor yourself."
"Someone has to keep this place in working order," she said, shrugging, returning to her magazine.
Dave began to walk towards the drug lockup, smiling as he shook his head. Yawning deeply as he stepped inside, he glanced at his watch to see that his shift was over. His smile broadened as he remembered that John was going to be waiting at Doc's for him. He hadn't seen the older man since about five o'clock this morning, when he'd woken up to the alarm clock with a groan, having to work the morning shift that day, and he was glad that he'd finally get to see him after twelve hours of hell in this place.
"What're you smiling about?" he heard. He glanced up to see Abby restocking, balancing a large box on her hip.
"I'm off," he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned in the doorway. From the other doorway into this drug lockup, Luka entered, his eyes glancing over the two before quickly shifting to the cabinet, where he searched for some medication or another. Dave had only spoken with him briefly lately - when it was necessary - and from rumors he'd heard that the Attending was leaving for Bosnia soon, to spend a few months there for a Doctors Without Borders program. And Dave also knew that when he left, some much-needed space between the two would finally occur.
"Hey, Luka," she said to him, and he offered a small smile in response. She glanced at Dave, grinning. "That'd make anyone smile. I've still got nine hours left in this place. That reminds me: Are we still getting dinner tomorrow?"
It wasn't a rarity to see Abby and Dave grabbing a meal together, or hanging out outside of work. Over the course of the last few weeks, since they'd first shared a coffee in the cafeteria and she'd offered him wise advice, they'd become close friends, understanding each other, getting along with each other, and generally having a good time with each other. But this wasn't something that Dave wanted discussed in front of Luka, especially with rumors abounding that Dave was seeing the Attending's ex-girlfriend. Don't think he hadn't caught that brief look that Luka had given him just now.
"Uh...yeah, sure," Dave replied, rubbing the nape of his neck nervously. He caught Abby's eye, and she nodded subtly towards Luka. Dave nodded, answering her unspoken question of what was suddenly bothering him. "I just came in for some Benadryl before I left."
Reaching for the Benadryl, he caught sight of the Dexedrine. He still had a couple pills at home in his medicine cabinet, just sitting on the glass shelves behind his bathroom mirror. He furrowed his brow in thought, thinking about how John was at his apartment all day, and spent a good amount of his time there. What if he found them? Dave had snuck a few pills from the drug lockup over the past few weeks, but perhaps he should take those tonight just in case, so that there would be no chance of the Chief Resident finding them.
You could throw them away, his alter ego suggested as he took a couple Benadryls to ward off his oncoming cold. But at least if he did take them, then he'd have a little pick-me-up, some staying power in bed tonight, and it wouldn't be such a waste. And he could use a little pick-me-up after a day like today in the ER, especially after those six bratty kids.
Dave quickly said goodbye to Abby, and exited the drug lockup at that moment, suddenly in a better mood - but a bit unnerved as to why, though he allowed that thought to stay at the back of his mind.
-------------------------------------
Feeling like I'm chasing,
Like I'm facing myself alone
I've got somebody else's thoughts in my head
I want some of my own
-------------------------------------
"You two are close, aren't you?" Luka asked Abby as soon as he felt Dave was out of earshot. He'd heard the rumors about the two being involved, but at first he hadn't believed them. Then, he'd begun to see how Abby and Dave had slowly become friendlier with each other, too friendly for his liking. And after their exchange in the drug lockup just now, he wasn't sure if he didn't believe it so much anymore.
"Yeah," Abby replied as she pulled out a bottle of morphine, checking it off on her inventory and placing it on the shelf with the rest of them, pretending she hadn't heard that strange tone in Luka's voice.
"Closer than friends?" he asked as calmly as possible, though Abby sure as hell couldn't pretend she didn't hear that slight edge in his voice.
She turned to face him, glaring. Since the rumors had started, many coworkers had been warning her about Dave, especially people like Jing-Mei and Chuny, stating that sleeping with guys like him was just asking for trouble. Over lunch, she remembered telling Dave about it, and they'd both laughed it off, though she could see in his eyes that he'd finally realized the truth: those same people like Jing-Mei and Chuny didn't think much of him. And it had affected him greatly, and she knew that it had hurt his feelings more than he would let it show. Dave was a good person, and he didn't deserve to be treated like a chauvinistic pig or an egocentric whore.
"I don't think that's any of your business," she said as politely as possible.
"Excuse me?" He turned to face her, surprise written all over his face. He wasn't sure what he was expecting her to say, certainly hadn't expected *that* kind of an answer. She kept her glare fixed on him, her lips pursed. "Abby, I'm just trying to - "
"Trying to what?" she snapped. "Warn me? Because I've gotten enough of that from the rest of the staff. You know, Dave's a really great guy, and you and the rest of them would see that if you just got to know him."
"How well *do* you know him?" Luka retorted, his annoyance rising.
"Better than you ever will."
"Oh really?" Luka asked, his brow furrowed in anger. "Then I guess you know that Dave likes his men as much as he likes his women?"
"What?" Abby asked. She shook her head, hardly able to believe that Luka would stoop to say something so low. "Whatever, Luka, I'm not going to stand here and argue with you, you don't even know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" he asked her as she stormed from the room, leaving him alone in the drug lockup, his jaw clenched. He leaned his head against the open door of the cabinet, sighing. Dave and Abby were a couple, his ex-girlfriend and his ex - his ex-what? Fuckboy? Certainly not boyfriend or lover, they'd never gotten that close.
And that brought another thought to his mind: What had happened to John Carter? Had the Chief Resident backed out of the relationship as soon as he'd jumped into it? Had the he done the same thing Luka himself had done? Possibly missed his chance, just as Luka had? Perhaps Dave had misled him into believing that he was after John just so he could go for Abby without Luka intervening, knowing that the Attending still had some sort of feelings towards the woman?
Well, whatever *had* happened, Abby was still right, and he knew it. He hadn't gotten to know Dave, like she had, and now she had him, and he didn't. And their relationship only reminded him more and more of what he'd lost: both Abby *and* Dave.
He hated them all.
-------------------------------------
Can you see me up here?
Would you bring me back down?
Cause I've been living to see my fears
As they fall to the ground
-------------------------------------
John sat inside Doc Magoo's, checking his watch to see that it was already a few minutes past Dave's shift. It was late fall/early winter, which meant that the sun was already set at this time of the evening, but the lights of the hospital and ambulances illuminated the street, allowing him to glance outside to see if Dave was approaching the diner. After being unable to spot the Junior Resident, he rested his cheek against an open palm, studying the menu as he did so.
Growing considerably anxious after he'd decided what he would eat and drink, John glanced out the window once more: Still no Dave. Looking back to the menu, he found himself once again wondering what was happening to him. Every moment of his life seemed to be enveloped by Dave, and when Dave wasn't with him, that's all the Chief Resident thought about. And every time he found himself wondering this, he also found himself thinking that he could be falling in love with Dave. And if he wasn't falling in love yet, he sure knew he wasn't far from it.
This arose another question that John dreaded: Was Dave really serious about this? Was John just another fling for Dave? Or was this something that was going to last? John sure wished he were one of those people that could live in the here-and-now right about now, but he couldn't help but think about the future, *their* future.
He glanced around the diner, watching couples flirting and chatting, and he wondered why he couldn't be one of those people. Why did he have to be different? But he was happy, dammit, he could at least say that. With Dave, he was happy. Were *those* people really happy? Did it really matter how different he was if he was happy?
"Hey, handsome," he suddenly heard, and nearly jumped out of his skin. Dave slid into the seat across from him, smiling broadly, and, without even knowing it, John suddenly found himself smiling as well. Dave shrugged his jacket off, placing it on the seat next to him. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, I got tied up. God, I feel like shit so I took an Benadryl before I left."
"You're getting sick?" John asked, just as a waitress in one of those ugly pink uniforms came over, offering coffee. John nodded, as did Dave, and she immediately filled their cups before heading off to pour some more cups of coffee for other customers. "Thanks. What do you think you have?"
"A cold," Dave replied, glancing over the menu as he leaned an elbow on the table, proceeding to rub his temple with his forefingers as he'd done earlier. He glanced up at John with a small smile. "And a headache. My shift was hell. Can you believe that for an hour I was stuck babysitting six bratty kids? I know I can't."
John smiled. "Did Weaver put you up to that?"
"Ha!" Dave said, leaning back in his seat. "No, but that wouldn't have been surprising. Hey, listen, John..." The waitress came back around to take their orders, interrupting what Dave had begun to say. When she left after Dave ordered a bacon cheeseburger and fries, and John ordered a club sandwich and fries, the younger man leaned forward. "When's the next day you have off?"
"Wednesday."
"Damn," he muttered, leaning back again, this time in defeat. He looked up at the older man, pouting in that oh-so-very cute way that he could. "I've got Friday off. Maybe I could trade with Cleo..."
"I'll switch the days on the roster," John said quickly. Dave and he hadn't had a day off together in the few weeks that they'd been seeing each other, and it sure would be fun if they did. He knew Dave still had some tricks in bed hidden up his sleeve, as the younger man had put it the other night, and he'd love to see what exactly he did have hidden. He also knew that during these few weeks they'd been together, Dave had only fucked him, and he'd love to get the chance to return the favor.
Dave smiled broadly, and John smiled back. "I guess sleeping with the Chief Resident really *does* have its advantages!"
"Dave, keep it down," John hissed, leaning forward as his smile suddenly disappeared, his brow furrowing while he glanced around the restaurant. Jesus Christ, what if someone overheard what Dave had just said?! It didn't look like anyone had, but that didn't mean it couldn't happen the next time Dave decided to blurt it out.
"What?" Dave's brow furrowed as well, as he also glanced around the diner, wondering who could've overheard anything that John didn't want them to. And then it hit him like a ton of bricks: everyone. He looked back to John. "Oh. You don't..."
John didn't want to come out yet. John had always seemed distant and withdrawn at work or out on the town in places where they knew people. Dave had assumed that he just hadn't wanted to draw attention to them, knowing from experience what harassment two men in a relationship could get. But he didn't think that John would be afraid if complete strangers overheard, like the people surrounding them now. They'd never actually talked about this, never actually talked about anything meaningful like their feelings or coming out, but Dave guessed that that was all right for now. Eventually, they would. Unless...John wasn't *ashamed* of Dave, was he? No...John wasn't the kind of person to base things on class and money...but his peers were...his family. But that didn't matter to John, did it? John just wasn't ready to come out, that was all. He gave John another small smile, this one reassuring, though he wasn't sure if it was for John's sake or his own.
"Sorry," Dave said with a small smile. "I didn't realize..."
"That's okay," John replied, leaning back in his seat, the tension leaving his body as the waitress came over and placed their meals down in front of them. "Just...don't let it happen again. I mean...try to be careful, Dave...discreet. You can be discreet, right?"
"Sure," Dave said, holding his hands up to brush it off, giving one of those casual shrugs that John knew meant more than it seemed. He watched Dave look away from him and to the street outside, and then back to him, smiling. But his eyes always gave away his emotions, which is probably why he'd turned away in the first place - he didn't want John to see just how hurt he really was.
-------------------------------------
I remind myself of somebody else
-------------------------------------
With John having already left to start his shift at County General, Dave Malucci exited Doc Magoo's, snow gently falling but melting quickly in the wet street. He glanced up at the night sky, remembering winters in New York when he was a child, building snowmen with Miranda and then dressing them up in scarves and hats and mittens, because girls didn't like to have snowball fights, but she was his best friend so he helped her just to please her. And, then, of course, having a snowball fight with Miranda because he wanted to, and he was her best friend so she did it just to please him. He smiled as he watched the snowflakes fall onto his open palm, wishing he could have those fun times back again; his life was rarely that fun anymore.
Sighing, he crossed the street, dodging any oncoming ambulances rushing to get to the ER as he moved to the bicycle rack. It'd be a long ride home in this biting weather, but John would be with him in a few hours, and nothing could possibly be that bad when that reward would come soon. What it was a reward for, Dave didn't know, but he did know that he sure as hell didn't deserve someone as special as John.
Kneeling down next to his bike, he began to unlock the chain when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Taken by surprise, he spun as he stood upright, apprehensive with fists ready to fly because any type of psycho could wander to this dark corner of the ambulance bay.
"Luka," he breathed, relief washing over him. "You scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry," he said, but he didn't even sound remotely apologetic, and the fire in his eyes indicated that he certainly didn't *feel* apologetic either. "Didn't mean to startle you."
Dave narrowed his eyes, hesitant as to why Luka would approach him...in a dark corner of the ambulance bay. Stupid thoughts, he said silently to himself. Don't think like an idiot. But John's inquiry a few weeks ago hadn't been that far off: on some level or another, Dave *was* afraid of Luka. He knew that he could easily beat the older man in a fight, probably cause serious injury if he wanted, but Dave also knew that when he was a teenager, he could've easily beaten his father in a fight, probably cause serious injury if he wanted. But he hadn't. When people were afraid, they didn't think straight, and they didn't have enough wits about them to defend themselves.
But why did Dave always associate Luka with his father? Luka was not a mean person by nature, and before the huge fight that the two had had, ending their relationship for what he'd thought had been for good, he'd seen the good in him. It'd been what had drawn him to the Attending in the first place. But Dave couldn't help but see Luka's sporadic brusqueness and be reminded of his father. Dave couldn't help but see Luka's anger in an argument and be reminded of his father. And Dave couldn't help but see Luka's sudden - and sometimes violent - temper, and be reminded of his father. And he knew that Luka was not a bad person, was almost nothing like his father, but he couldn't help it.
"Is there something you wanted?" Dave asked, turning towards his bike again to finish unlocking it. But Luka reached out and grabbed Dave's arm, stopping him from moving any further. Dave looked up at Luka now, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What's your problem?"
"I just saw you in Doc Magoo's with Carter," Luka stated, his words edged with anger. He'd been standing outside in the ambulance bay, waiting for a trauma to arrive, when he'd noticed the two across the street, sitting at a booth by the window, talking, laughing and - he could even see it from across the street - flirting.
"Yeah, so?" he asked, yanking his arm out of Luka's grip. "We had lunch, what's it to you?"
"What is this to *you*?" Luka asked, his expression showing his disgust. "A game?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked, because he sure as hell would like to know.
"You're seeing Carter on the side, is that it?" Luka asked, stepping closer to Dave, and then recognition crossed Dave's face, and everything clicked, and he knew exactly what Luka was talking about. "You're dating Abby, and you're cheating on her with Carter? This is fun for you, to play with people's feelings like that?"
"Abby and I...John's..." He stopped, suddenly looking up at Luka defiantly. "My life is none of your business."
"When it deals with people I care about, it is," he stated, placing his open palms on Dave's chest, shoving him against the bike rack.
"Don't fucking touch me."
"Why? What are you going to do about it?" Luka asked harshly, grabbing Dave's collar and yanking the younger man towards him. Dave managed to repress his gasp of surprise, though he couldn't stop his heart from doing ninety miles per hour. Luka stared Dave down, standing flush to him. "Hurt her, and I'll hurt you."
He shoved Dave back against the bike rack once more, turning sharply on his heel and walking away from the Junior Resident, who immediately straightened out his shirt and jacket. He licked his dry lips, running his hand through his hair and then grasping at it, wondering just what the fuck he was going to do.
-------------------------------------
Feeling like I'm chasing,
Like I'm facing myself alone
I've got somebody else's thoughts in my head
I want some of my own
-------------------------------------
Several hours later, when the events of an almost-slip at lunch had dissipated in his mind, and all that was left was the fact that he'd seen Dave, John Carter was driving home after his half-shift, listening to the rock radio station, humming to the music and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. In such a great mood, he'd barely noticed that he'd called Dave's apartment "home." It was, in fact, where he'd been practically living for the past few weeks, so he might as well. Perhaps he and Dave could get an apartment together, a nicer and roomier one. But it was too early to think about that yet, he wasn't even sure if this thing was serious or not yet.
But what Abby had said earlier to him in the Lounge ran through his head, as it had been doing all day, over and over again, and the smile that had been plastered on his face then was still on it now, from just thinking about the exchange.
* * *
"Hey, John," she had said, leaning against the locker next to his as he sifted through his own, trying to find his car keys in this mess. His shift had been finally over, and he could finally go home - to Dave. And, yes, he'd even referred to it as home then.
"Hey, Abby," he'd replied. "As soon as I find my keys, I'm out of here, so if you need help with a patient, I'm going to refuse right now and save you the time of asking."
"No, listen, I just wanted to ask you a question," she said, and John glanced at her expectantly out of the corner of his eye. Gotcha, he thought as he felt the cool metal of his keys reach his fingertips. "You and Dave are close, right?"
He went still.
"What do you mean?" was the slow reply.
"Well, everyone's noticed how you guys have become friends over the past few weeks," she replied, eyeing him suspiciously. What was suddenly up with him? "You're a good influence on him, you know."
"Right," John said, a billion thoughts running through his mind. Everyone noticed? No one thought anything of it though, did they? Lots of people in the hospital were close friends, right? No one cared...Dave and John didn't share public affection, except for the occasional joking innuendo offered by either man, similar innuendoes that they offered other staff members. Should they stop those so no one would think too much of it and find out about them? He suddenly remembered Abby standing beside him. "So...what's your question?"
"Oh, right," she said, getting back on track. "Do you...happen to know who he's seeing?"
"Excuse me?" he asked, slightly surprised.
"He mentioned her at lunch a few weeks ago," Abby stated, "but he wouldn't tell me who she was, only that I'd met her. And his clues other than that were pretty vague, though I hear it's going well."
"She?" He immediately regretted saying that as soon as he had. Shit, how could he let that slip? It'd just surprised him that Abby had referred to who Dave was seeing as a woman, though he wasn't sure why. Certainly Dave wouldn't tell Abby he was seeing a man. He quickly recovered, pulling out his keys quickly and closing his locker door, then turning to face her. "I mean, what else did he say about her?"
"All he told me," she continued, and if she'd noticed his sudden surprise, she hid it very well, "was that she was smart, funny, good looking, special, and rich. And the only person I can think of is..." - here it came - "Jing-Mei. You don't think he's dating *her*, do you?"
"No," John said, compressing his sigh of relief. He grinned, instead. "I think she made it clear long ago that he had no chance with her. Moreover, rumor has it that the lucky lady is *you*."
"Oh, please..." She waved off the suggestion, shaking her head as she did so. "I'm sick and tired of hearing about that already. Half the hospital is warning me and the other half is asking me if he's really as great in bed as he says. Besides, I'm not rich."
"Hey," John said, laughing. "Four outta five ain't bad."
* * *
Special, John thought now, nearing Dave's apartment. Dave thought he was special. But just what did special mean? Always the question coming to mind, he thought to himself. What kind of relationship did he have with Dave? Were they friends who had sex or were they more than that? He knew he cared about Dave, but did Dave honestly care in that way about him? He recalled Dave explaining to John that he wanted something more than just sex, but did they really have anything more than that?
He furrowed his brow, thinking of all the times Dave had showed affection for him in other places besides the bed: Those soft smiles that John only got to see, the gentle caresses, the sweet kisses, the stolen glances, and that flicker of mischief in Dave's eyes when the younger man was up to something.
That was surely more than just sex. That was a full-blown romance, the same kind John had had with a few other women before. So why was it so hard for John to be able to think of it as serious? Because it was with Dave? God...all this thinking was causing him to overanalyze everything. He'd just simply have to ask Dave about this later.
Pulling up to Dave's apartment, he shut off the Jeep and stepped out, grabbing his knapsack and threw it over his shoulder, locking the Jeep and then heading up the front steps. He stepped inside, heading up the stairs rather than take the elevator, but only because the elevator was out of order, and from what Dave had told him, it'd been broken for several months and probably would be for many more. A new apartment was just looking more and more appealing by the moment.
John soon reached Dave's apartment, finding the door open, something Dave did when he knew John was coming over. The Chief Resident stepped inside and threw his satchel to the side of the door, where Dave kept his own knapsack that he brought to the ER daily. As he was removing his jacket, he could hear the shower running, but he could also hear music gently flowing through the air. But...it was classical music. Since when did Dave listen to anything besides Metallica or The Red Hot Chili Peppers?
"Dave?" he called out into the apartment, loosening his tie around his neck until it undid itself and hung around his neck. He began unbuttoning his shirt, getting ready to change into some sweats for bed. He stepped into the bedroom, which was directly across from the bathroom. "Is that you?"
The glass door slid open, and Dave stuck his head out for a minute, smiling broadly at John from across the hallway. "Last time I checked," he replied, before closing the door again and finishing up his shower.
John shook his head, smiling. So Dave listened to classical music in the shower. The man surprised John more and more every day. As Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" began wafting through the air, John stripped off his shirt, throwing it into a nearby laundry basket before pulling off his pants and then his undershirt, until he stood in only his undershorts.
Quite unexpectedly, and therefore taking him by surprise, John felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist, and a pair of full lips make contact with his neck, sucking gently at first, then biting and flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin, leaving a perfect love-bite so no one would mistake it for anything other than that, letting everyone know that John was taken, even if they didn't know by whom. He felt Dave press against his backside, feeling the slickness of Dave's hot wet skin from his shower - and also feeling the raging hard-on that the younger man was sporting.
John turned in Dave's arms, looking down into the younger man's eyes, smiling as he ran his hands over Dave's body, the fact that Dave's skin was still wet and warm from the shower causing him to gain a raging hard-on of his own. Dave moved one of his hands to cup the side of John's face, and John turned slightly towards it, taking Dave's thumb into his mouth and sucking on it gently. Over the course of their brief relationship, John had only given Dave a blowjob once. He remembered that both men had been very drunk that night, and that it hadn't been mentioned the next morning, or ever again. John had thought at the time he'd been giving it that he wasn't doing that bad of a job, especially since Dave had been moaning and almost begging for more, but he had to assume so now, since that was the only reason he could think for it to be brushed over like that. It wasn't to say that he couldn't get better with a little practice...but only if Dave would let him try.
Dave's fingers were now hooking at the rim of John's boxers, pulling at them playfully, a smile on the Junior Resident's face. But something was off about Dave tonight, and John couldn't quite figure out what it was. He pulled his mouth away from Dave's fingers, pausing to ask: "Have you been drinking, Dave?"
"No..." he said, keeping that smile. He bit his lip, looking down before looking back up at John from under his brow, his voice almost singsong as he said: "I want to fuck you."
"Oh really?" John asked, grinning, standing flush to Dave, knocking his hard cock against Dave's, draping his arms over the younger man's shoulders. Dave's smile broadened as he nodded, his eyes full of mischief and hunger, his fingers just itching to act out upon it. John leaned in close to Dave's ear, a thought coming to mind, and while he ran his fingers on one hand through Dave's hair, he whispered: "But when am *I* going to get a turn?"
"What?" Dave asked, his tone abruptly sharp and terse. He placed his hands on John's waist, moving him at arm's length, the Junior Resident's handsome face contorted with a sudden anger that John hadn't been expecting. "What do you mean: 'get a turn??' You don't 'get a turn.' You think this is some kind of game, where you 'get a turn??'"
"No! That's not what I meant!" John said hastily, as Dave let go of his waist and took a few steps back. Why was he suddenly so upset? "I just...I mean...all this time, you've been...fucking me, and I just thought that I might be able to return the favor, that's all."
This only seemed to make Dave angrier. "Return the favor? Return the - John, when I do things for you, it's because I want to, not because I expect you to 'return the favor.'"
"I know that, Dave," he said, trying to find the right words so he wouldn't make Dave more upset than he already seemed to be. "I just want to be able to pleasure you too..."
"Well, I don't get pleasure out of that!" Dave yelled as he began to pace around the room.
"I do," John replied honestly, watching Dave carefully. And certainly Dave had to know that too, from the many nights of passion they'd shared, from the many nights John had screamed out, begging for more.
"Good for you."
"Have you ever even tried it?" John asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, knowing that pride could be an issue in all this. Perhaps Dave hadn't let another man do something so invading and intimate to him, and he might be scared. Now, of course, the bravado that was David Malucci would never admit to that. But perhaps with a little coaxing and encouragement, John could get Dave to try it. After all, John liked it, so that had to be some sort of reassurance that Dave could possibly like it too.
"Yes!" Dave hissed, throwing that idea out the window. His words were too vicious for this conversation that should've never escalated to this. Why was he overreacting like this? There had to be something more to it than just pride, John was sure of that now. "I didn't like it. And I won't do it. So shut up about it."
"Fine..." John said, his eyes narrowing as he realized he was treading into unknown - and sensitive - territory. David Malucci's life before their relationship had started was still very much a mystery to John, still as much so as it had been a few weeks ago, in fact. But he could concur one thing: someone had taken advantage of him. What exactly had happened, he wasn't sure, but that thought alone upset him almost as much as Dave was upset now. He tried to offer some sort of reassuring words: "But just because you didn't like it then, doesn't mean you won't like it now."
"John..." Dave said, an odd tone in his voice that was somewhere between distress and weariness. He sat down next to John, his hands in his lap, his eyes lowered. Glancing at Dave, John could see that his hands were shaking, and Dave tried to cover it up by folding his hands and continuously fidgeting with them. He paused for a moment before looking up and at John, his desperation in his expression. "Please...just...just drop it, okay?"
John nodded, trying to understand this. And he suddenly recalled all the times he'd tried to touch Dave's most sensitive areas, and all the times that Dave had discreetly pulled away, distracting John while doing so, so he wouldn't notice. How could he - over the course of being intimate with the younger man for nearly a *month* - have missed the fact that Dave didn't like to be touched? No wonder why the only time he'd been able to give Dave oral sex was when the younger man was so drunk he was falling over.
* * *
He could remember the day that had happened about a week ago. Dave had been having a terrible day at work when a little girl had come in from a car accident, needing surgery. Her mother and father had died at the scene, and she was terrified inside Curtain Area Three, crying hysterically, and no matter how hard Dr. Corday or Dr. Finch tried, they could not calm her down. But Dave had stepped in against their orders thinking he would only worsen the case, talking to her soothingly, reassuring her that her mother and father were safe and she'd be safe too. He'd bonded with her within minutes. When she had to go up for surgery, she'd begun to cry again, but Dave was right there, promising her that he'd be waiting for her when she woke up, and then she'd been rushed away to the OR with hope and optimism in her eyes.
But she'd never woken up.
And, even though destined to be in a vegetative state for the rest of her now meaningless life, Dave had sat with her, waiting, waiting for hours, waiting until after his shift was over, just watching her, sometimes whispering to her words too low for anyone else to hear. Several doctors and nurses approached him, asking him if they could get him anything or do anything, and he'd just shaken his head, never taking his eyes off of the girl, always thinking of how he'd let her down, lied to her, broken his promise. He always broke his promises...
After his own shift was over, hours later, John walked up to Post-Op, watching Dave briefly through the window of the door before pushing it open and stepping inside. The younger man didn't even look up as John approached him, his expression showing his remorse. When John placed a hand on Dave's shoulder, the younger man flinched and looked up in surprise, not even realizing he'd been there.
"My shift's over," John stated, and then he indicated the door. "Want me to take you home?" Dave glanced at the little girl regretfully, as if he didn't want to leave her. "Dave, you can wait here all you want, but she isn't going to wake up," John said gently. He knelt down next to the younger man, catching his eyes and seeing the sadness in them. "If anything, you offered her comfort when she most needed it, and if that's the best thing you can do, then you did your job right."
"So lying to her is the best I could do?" Dave asked, finally saying something. John was about to comment when he continued: "Yes, that's what I did, don't try to convince me otherwise. I lied to her, John. I promised her that she was going to be okay, and I told her that her parents were okay. I lied to a dying little girl. That's not the best I could've done." He looked away briefly. "I could've..."
"Could've what, Dave?" John asked gently, his expression soft. "You weren't the surgeon, you couldn't help what complications occurred in the OR. You're not God, you can't control what happens, and you just have to accept that." Dave just sat there in silence, crossing his arms over the rail of the bed and resting his chin upon them, watching the little girl again. "Are you going to come with me?"
"No," he replied quietly. "But I'll be home soon."
Taking that as an invitation, John waited at Dave's apartment for him, keeping himself busy by watching television but unable to concentrate on anything that was on. He kept glancing at the clock, the minutes going on like hours. At three AM, four hours after he'd left Dave at the hospital, John got up and got dressed, locking up the apartment and driving to County, wondering if maybe Dave had fallen asleep during his silent vigil. But up at Post-Op, he'd found that Dave hadn't fallen asleep, he wasn't there at all. And the girl was gone too.
"Hey, Shirley?" John asked the nurse who was running the station at the time. "Have you seen Dr. Malucci? I left a few hours ago and he was here, but now he's gone..."
"Dr. Malucci?" she asked, glancing off as she tried to connect the name to a face. She suddenly looked back at him, her finger raised. "The young guy who was watching the car accident victim. An aunt came in and took the girl off the vent, and he called it about an hour ago. Left right after that. As for where he went? Sorry, but I can't help you."
"Thanks anyway," he said, heading out to his car.
"Did he know the little girl?" Shirley asked, stopping John in his tracks.
He turned back towards the nurse. "What?"
"Did he know the little girl?" she repeated, more slowly this time.
"No," he replied, shaking his head. "Why would you ask that?"
"Well, the way he just sat there and held her hand. I mean he read her books even though we all told him that she probably couldn't hear him," she said, remembering how awkward it had been for them to approach him and offer him information he probably already knew. She sighed. "When the aunt came in, he took his time with her and held her while she cried. She gave permission to disconnect life support but said that she couldn't watch her die, so she asked Dr. Malucci to stay until it was over, and he agreed. Then when he disconnected the vent and called the time of death, I went over to do the death kit, but he shooed me away and did it himself. He was so loving with her, even after she died..." She looked up at John, whose expression told her that he knew there was more. "When he left, he looked like he was crying. So I just figured he knew her."
"No, he didn't know her, Dave just loves kids," John said, remembering how close Dave had also bonded with that boy that had come in about a month ago after being abused by his father. That had also equally upset him, perhaps even more so because they shared a similar abusive background. "Thanks Shirley, I'll see you."
John walked to his car in a fog, thinking about what Shirley had said. Dave always took cases like those with kids hard, always. He sat inside for a few minutes, letting the car warm up in this winter weather, wondering where on Earth Dave could've gone. Perhaps he was home now, maybe John had missed him on the way over. But Shirley had said he'd left an *hour* ago? Where could he have gone at two o'clock in the morning? He smacked a palm for his forehead, the thought coming to him with a roll of his eyes. "The Game Room."
The Game Room was Dave's favorite bar. He knew the bartender and knew the regulars there. It was where he'd first taken John out for a drink, and where he continued to take John out for a drink often. He arrived there in about ten minutes, parking right outside the door. He caught sight of Dave's blue bike leaning against the wall nearby, which was pretty foolish because it could easily be stolen, so he hung it up to the back of his Jeep and secured it there before stepping inside of the bar.
His eyes scanned the still busy bar, even at this time in the morning, and he located Dave sitting at the bar by himself, rubbing his temples as if he had a headache while he took another long swig of his drink. John approached him, sitting down on the stool next to him, but Dave didn't even recognize his presence.
"You said you were going to be home soon," John said. Dave turned towards him with surprise. "That was over four hours ago."
"Shit. You scared the fuck outta me, John," Dave breathed. He'd been sitting by himself the whole night, other customers clearly knowing when he wanted to be left alone to drink. His eyes landed on the clock on the wall, but he couldn't focus on it, squinting in vain as he tried to get the numbers to clear. He finally turned to John. "What time is it?"
"A quarter after four," he replied, eyeing the four empty beer bottles and shot glass in front of Dave. Even though he knew that Dave could handle his liquor well, no one could handle that amount of alcohol in an hour. But still...he seemed drunker than he should be. "Come on, let's go home. It's late and I have an early shift."
"Shit, I thought it was earlier than that," he said burying his face in his hands and then rubbing his eyes, blinking hard to try to regain his focus. But he didn't want to go home to that shithole he lived in yet, he wanted to get drunker and *then* go home. "Let me finish my beer," he said, reaching for it. His hand jerked suddenly, knocking the glass bottle over, and the golden liquid ran over the counter and dripped onto the floor. But I only had four beers and a shot, Dave thought to himself, knowing from plenty of drinking games won in college he required a lot of alcohol to get intoxicated. And although he had a lot in a short amount of time, he knew that the Demerol he'd taken before leaving the hospital had helped speed up the process. He glanced up at John, a stupid smile on his face. "I'm drunk."
"Yes, I can see that." John nodded with raised eyebrows, using some nearby napkins to clean up the spill Dave had made. He glanced at the bartender, putting down twenty dollars to cover for the beers and the mess. "I'm sorry, but can you clean this up? Dave's had a little too much to drink, and I think I need to get him home."
"No problem," the bartender replied, using a dishcloth to wipe away the mess as he picked up the twenty-dollar bill. "You have a nice night, guys."
"You too," John replied, and Dave smiled lazily, totally smashed from the alcohol. The younger man stood hesitantly, unsteady at first but regaining his bearings in a few moments. John watched him carefully as he led him out of the bar to make sure he wouldn't fall, and then helped him get into the Jeep. He buckled him in, but before he could back away, Dave pulled him close and kissed him hard, his tongue running over John's closed lips. He reached inside John's loose jeans' pockets, briefly feeling around before he found his goal, but John pulled away quickly, surprise written all over his face. He held up a finger. "Dave..." he warned, glancing around, making sure no one had overseen that. "Discreet, remember?"
Dave just simply smiled and leaned back in his seat, licking his full lips. John sighed as he shook his head, closing the Jeep door. He circled around the front and climbed inside, leaning back in his seat to reach inside his pocket for his keys. His brow suddenly furrowed as he searched his other pocket, and then he sat there for a moment, perplexed.
"Where are my keys?" John asked himself out loud, checking to see if he'd left them in the ignition. No...then where could they be? He heard a jingling sound from next to him, and turned to see Dave holding up the keys, his smile now playful. John sighed once more, reaching forward. "Give me those." Dave pulled them back away from him, and John leaned forward more, but Dave continued to pull them away, giggling as he did so. "Dave, give them to me."
"Make me," he challenged, mischief in his eyes. John glanced at him with exasperation, making a final reach for the keys, but Dave pulled them just out of his reach, and the younger man took that as an opportunity to kiss him once more, this time pushing his tongue between John's closed lips, running it over his teeth and gums. John began to kiss him back, but it was only to distract Dave while he grabbed the keys and pulled back once more. Dave pouted. "No fair. You cheated."
John smiled as he started the car, putting it into the right gear and heading towards Dave's apartment. Halfway there, he felt Dave's hand on his knee, and, glancing down, he could see it traveling up his leg, his fingertips gently trailing over the denim and to his crotch, which was steadily growing a bulge. He tried to pull his knee away, but it was hard to do so while driving.
"Stop it," he said, but his cock obviously had other intentions. He briefly glanced away from the road and to Dave, who was also touching himself, and John shifted in his seat, trying to get his hard-on to go away by sheer will. He brushed away Dave's hand quickly. "Wait until we get home, okay?"
Another smile, and then Dave closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, one hand still cupped lazily over his crotch, between his splayed legs. John forced himself to concentrate on the road and not what was sitting next to him, and within minutes they were home. Now, getting inside was going to be the real problem. So, after some stumbling and a little effort, John finally led Dave inside the apartment, closing and locking the door behind him, securing the place for the night. He barely turned around when Dave was pinning him to the wall, kissing him hard as if there were no tomorrow, knocking his hard cock against John's.
"Dave," John managed to get in. Dave was so drunk he could hardly stand, and John was afraid he was going to fall and hurt himself. "Dave, wait, let's get to the couch at least, okay?"
Without parting lips, the two made it to the sofa, Dave sitting back and John straddling him. And, in between kissing, Dave managed to get out: "John" - kiss - "I don't" - kiss - "think I can" - kiss - "take care of you tonight." Another brief kiss, before John pulled back with questioning eyes. "I'm so fucked up, John," he said, remembering the Demerol he'd taken, plus the four or five beers he'd drunken. "If we even attempt to have sex, I think I'll fall over right on my face and kill myself. Or I'll pass out right on my face and kill myself." He suddenly smiled. "I might even puke. And that won't be pretty, especially if I puke on you."
Without discussing it further, John leaned in and began kissing Dave again, hard and passionately. It was an incredible turn on to be the one in control for once, and see Dave vulnerable while he called all the shots. Occasionally - okay, so most of the time - John and Dave engaged in tonsil hockey, just kissing and teasing each other senseless, especially when they were in a hurry or didn't have time for sex. And Dave had said he was too drunk to be able to engage in any type of sex tonight, so this would suffice just fine. Well, John thought, there was *one* type of sex that they could have...
He broke away from Dave's lips, leaving a trail of kisses down his jaw. "Where are you going with those lips?" he heard Dave ask as he hovered over the delicate olive skin of the younger man's neck just long enough to leave a perfect love bite. He moved down Dave's chest, kissing him through the fabric of his shirt before kneeling down in front of him, settling between his open legs. Dave glanced at him in puzzlement. "What are you doing?"
"You said you can't take care of me," John stated with a shrug, "so I'm going to take care of you."
"What?" Dave asked, the alcohol consumed causing his thoughts to be slow and fuzzy. Only when John began to unbutton Dave's jeans did he understand what John wanted to do, and he immediately shook his head. "No, don't. I liked what we were doing before."
"You'll like this a lot more," John said with a smile, slowly unzipping Dave's pants.
"John, don't..." Dave closed his eyes, memories invading his mind that he didn't want to remember. *You'll like it, Davey. You will like it...* No room for argument then. But, opening his eyes, he knew he could argue here. He had control here. He placed his arms on John's shoulders, gently holding him back. "You don't have to, really."
"I want to," John said, looking up at Dave as he unbuttoned Dave's boxers. Why was Dave so opposed to this? Was it because he knew John had never done it before, and he thought that he might not enjoy it? He could at least let John give it a try. "Come on, Dave. Let me do it because I want to."
*You'd do it if you loved me...*
"No," he said, shaking his head vigorously. He tried to sit up and out of John's reach, but the older man grabbed his cock, which - despite what he was feeling - was hard. Dave gasped at the contact, surprised. "John, please don't..."
"Just relax, Dave," he said, using his free hand to push Dave back onto the couch so that he was leaning back and gave John more room. "Just relax and enjoy it." He suddenly smiled. "I'm sure you'll tell me if I'm doing anything wrong."
*You're doing it wrong, Davey, you're not listening to me...*
"I'm sorry," Dave whispered too quietly for John to hear, and he gasped audibly as he felt John's mouth surround his cock. Dave closed his eyes, his breathing heavy and his heart racing as he felt that silky throat and that wicked tongue on his erection. And it felt good. Too good. It was wrong, it wasn't supposed to feel good. Christ, it wasn't supposed to feel good! "God, John, this isn't right...but it feels so good...wait, stop, you're not supposed to do that...stop..."
John closed his eyes, listening to what Dave was saying as he sucked on Dave's cock. So it wasn't right, but it felt good? Perhaps Dave wasn't into this sort of thing, maybe he'd never tried it before. But he was saying that it felt good, which had to be a sign that he was enjoying it. John heard Dave moan, his breathing becoming faster and faster, and he knew Dave was going to come soon, so he prepared himself. He wasn't going to ruin this now that he'd gone this far. Within moments, Dave came in John's mouth breathless, and John managed to swallow. Leaning back, he looked up at Dave expectantly, whose head was tipped back and facing the ceiling, eyes closed.
"Dave?" he said, waiting. The younger man opened his eyes, slowly looking at John, his eyes glistening. John furrowed his brow, his expression worried; Dave didn't look very happy or even satisfied, he looked...traumatized. "Dave, what's wrong?"
"It wasn't supposed to feel good," he whispered, looking away but staring at nothing.
"What?" John asked, confused.
"It wasn't supposed to feel good..."
"I don't..." John started, but trailed off, not sure what to say. Dave was expecting John to do badly, and now that he hadn't, was he surprised? But that didn't explain why Dave looked as if he were about to burst into tears. "What do you mean? Did I do it wrong? With some practice, I can - "
"No!" Dave exclaimed, tucking himself back in his boxers and pants, and then zippering himself back up. He stood abruptly, knocking John back onto his butt, but could barely stand himself, nearly falling down and needing to grab onto the couch to gain balance. Once slightly steady, he quickly moved away from the couch and tried to get to the bedroom, but only if he could stop the room from spinning.
"Dave, stop, you're going to hurt yourself," John said, standing hastily. He approached the younger man and reached out to him, trying to help him steady himself so he wouldn't pass out or fall onto his face and kill himself, as he'd predicted before. But upon touching him, Dave flinched and spun around, tripping over his own feet and falling hard onto the floor, hitting the back of his head and getting the wind knocked out of him. "Dave!"
"Don't touch me," he pleaded, trying to sit up on his own, but the room was still spinning, and he couldn't hold the floor steady. John reached out and helped Dave sit up, whose feeble attempts at getting John to leave him alone weren't working. "Please, don't...it wasn't supposed to feel good, it's wrong...it's so wrong, so bad...I'm so bad, so dirty...just...oh, God...I'm sorry, but I don't want to...go away, please...stop...I...I..."
"Dave, what the fuck is going on?" John asked, his eyes wide with fear. Dave was acting crazy, hysterical. Perhaps he was drunker than John had thought, and maybe that combined with the fact that he really didn't like getting blowjobs might've contributed to this behavior. The younger man suddenly put his hand to his head, moaning, and within moments his eyes slid closed and he was limp in the older man's arms. For an instant, John thought that he was dead, but when he checked his vitals, he saw that Dave was just passed out. "Jesus Christ..."
Too worried to sleep after he'd managed to get Dave undressed and into bed, John watched Dave sleep, watched the younger man's chest rise and fall, watched the younger man toss and turn, and even talk at some times, but the words were inaudible and unintelligible, though John knew whatever was happening in his subconscious was not pretty.
The next morning, Dave had woken with a terrible hangover and lump on the back of his head from where he hit it, immediately taking two Aspirins and drinking lots of water with it. John had woken up a few minutes later, asking Dave if he remembered what had happened last night.
"No," Dave replied after briefly mulling the thought over.
"Really?" John asked, almost incredulously, his mind racing with thought. From the look in the Junior Resident's eyes, he could tell that he'd been lying about the fact that he didn't remember anything. But why would he do something like that? Was it because he'd been embarrassed about his behavior? But that still didn't *explain* his behavior? Perhaps Dave couldn't himself, so maybe he'd said he didn't remember to avoid the subject. He looked up at Dave, his eyes full of doubt. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," Dave said lightly, shrugging. "Don't remember a thing."
But he did remember, he remembered everything that had happened right down to the last moment when he'd passed out. And he still felt so dirty that he immediately took a shower, as if that would wash away the feelings right down the drain.
He only wished it were that easy.
-------------------------------------
Am I hiding behind my doubts?
Are they hiding behind me?
I'm closer to finding out
It doesn't mean anything
-------------------------------------
Now, a week later, Dave smiled thankfully at the fact that John would not ask anymore questions about the sensitive issue of Dave not liking to be touched intimately, and John returned the gesture, his eyes traveling downwards to see that the younger man was still at half-mast, almost causing his own cock to spring to life. Dave then reached up to touch John's cheek, leading him towards his lips, encasing them in his own, and he pushed his tongue through John's closed lips and into his mouth, needing to feel his cock inside of John's ass, which had readily regained it's previous hard-on.
They lay back on the bed, on their sides, still kissing, their arms wrapped around each other, and Dave began thrusting his hips against John's. Between the rough kissing and the rough thrusting, John was getting harder by the second, if that was even possible; this was a side of Dave that he'd never seen before, and it turned him on. That wasn't to say that he didn't enjoy taking it slow and steady, but this quick pace and brusqueness was a delightful surprise.
They scrambled up the bed near the headboard, and Dave grabbed John's arm, turning him expertly onto his back, straddling the older man between his knees. He took John's wrists in his hands, raising them above John's head and pinning him down, then leaning in and kissing him hard, leaving both men panting when he pulled away. Glancing up at the younger man, John could see that there was a fire in his eyes that he hadn't witnessed before, an intensity that sent chills up and down his spine.
Dave thrust against John's hips once more, arching his back and tipping his head back as he did so, a low moan escaping his lips. John tried to thrust against Dave, but with Dave sitting on top of him and holding his arms down, he couldn't move very much. It was somewhat scary to let Dave have all of the control, but he knew that Dave would never hurt him, that it was the last thing he ever wanted to do. He'd said so himself.
The Junior Resident's eyes strayed from John for a moment, searching the nightstand for the lube that he kept there. He had to let one of John's wrists go to reach it, but he didn't want to let the older man go just yet...there was something about having total control that drove Dave wild, that almost made him *loose* total control over what he was doing. Some people liked the roughness that came with it, but some of Dave's former lovers did not. John seemed to be enjoying it, so it was a double-bonus for him.
Placing both of John's wrists in one of his hands, he held tight to make sure the Chief Resident could not move them, and then he reached for the lubricant, uncapping it with his teeth and then spitting the cap to the side of the bed. Dammit...to do this right, Dave would have to let go of John's wrists...he couldn't do this with only one hand. So, he finally let go of John's wrists, squeezing the gel into his hand and warming it up a bit before moving his fingers to John's ass.
John had seen Dave's hesitancy in letting go of his wrists, so he kept them where Dave had been holding them - on the bed above his head - and he watched as Dave rubbed the lube between his fingers, warming it up. Without the least bit of warning, John suddenly felt Dave thrust his finger into his ass, surprising him so much he gasped. He felt Dave moving his finger in and out in long, slow strokes, and soon another finger joined it, and then another, each stroke triggering his prostate and sending waves of pleasure through him.
"You like that, don't you?" Dave said huskily, his voice barely recognizable to even himself. He watched John carefully as he thrust his fingers in and out, getting off on John's pleasure. His cock was leaking already, but he knew that he had to stretch John first before he could enter him, or else he could cause the older man serious injury. Finally, he felt that John was stretched enough, and he pulled his fingers out, grabbing his already lubricated cock and putting himself in the right position. "Well, you're gonna like this a lot more."
A low, guttural moan escaped Dave's lips as he slid inside of John in one quick thrust, feeling the older man's tightness around him, his cock enveloped by John. God, he loved this feeling, the feeling of being inside of John and feeling John surrounding him and taking him inside of him. For a fleeting moment, he wondered what it would feel like if their positions were switched, but he quickly pushed that thought aside after immediately getting sick to his stomach, and with another hard thrust it was totally eradicated from his mind.
"Dave..." John grunted as he felt another hard thrust from Dave. He was being a little *too* rough now, and it was beginning to hurt. But Dave either ignored him or hadn't heard him, because he kept thrusting vigorously, picking up the pace as he did so, nearing his climax. But if Dave wouldn't - or for some reason *couldn't* - listen to him, John couldn't even stop him, because Dave was straddling him and had begun to hold his wrists down again. "Dave, you're hurting me. Slow down, you're hurting me."
Whatever John was saying, the words weren't even reaching Dave's ears. He was lost, lost beyond words in what he was doing, lost in the thrusting and lost in the feeling of John around him and lost in the control. So gone he couldn't come back until he was finished - and maybe he didn't *want* to come back. Hard thrust after hard thrust, faster and faster, feeling himself going over the edge, wanting to come but unable to just yet, needing to come, God, he needed this relief after the day he'd had, the week he'd had, the life he'd had.
"Dave, you're hurting me," John said, grimacing, wishing that Dave would open his eyes so that maybe he could catch them and bring Dave back from wherever the hell he was. He could tell that the younger man was close to coming: his breathing was harsh, near hyperventilation, and he was moving faster and faster. But he hadn't come yet, it was taking him longer than usual for some reason. And John had totally lost his erection long ago, when Dave had begun to thrust too hard. It was too much already. "Dave, stop. Dave, you're hurting me, stop. Dave, stop! Dave...!"
What was John saying? It didn't matter, it didn't matter, all that mattered was thrusting and thrusting and thrusting, harder, God, harder, needing to come, needing to come, needing it, he needed it so fucking bad, and then finally, finally, finally with one final hard thrust, he came hard and fast, screaming as he did so, his head dropping to his chest. And it felt so good, too fucking good to be right, but he didn't care, right now all he wanted was to be wrong.
John lay totally still for a moment, his eyes screwed shut and a grimace on his face, pain ripping through his body. He felt as though Dave had split him in two. He finally remembered to breathe, and opened his eyes once it was over, watching Dave's motionless body lying on top of his. When he finally regained thought processes, he said quietly, "Dave?" The younger man opened his eyes and glanced up, and John halfway expected Dave to be surprised to see him there; he'd been so wrapped up achieving release that John didn't think Dave even knew he was there. "What the fuck just happened?"
"Sorry," he said immediately, pulling out of John and moving off of him and across the bed, deliberately putting distance between them, though John wasn't sure why. He watched Dave cross his arms over his stomach and curl up into a ball, sniffling as he took one arm away from his stomach to scratch the back of his neck. "Guess I got carried away..."
"A little," he said, the sarcasm apparent in his voice. Something had just happened, but he wasn't sure what. "Where did you go just now?"
Silence.
"Dave?" John reached out a hand into the darkness, his wrist stinging slightly from the pressure that Dave had exerted on it, and he touched the younger man's shoulder apprehensively, but there was no response. He called Dave's name again, but, again, received no reply. He was out cold; perhaps he *had* been drinking...but why would he lie about it?
Sighing, rubbing his stinging wrists, John turned his back towards the younger man and closed his eyes, wishing for sleep to come and knowing that it probably wouldn't anytime soon. He was too worried about Dave to rest; something was defiantly wrong with the younger man. And tonight proved it.
Now, John had always known that Dave had a bad temper, and he'd seen it many times, but Dave had never been anything but loving and gentle with him, especially in bed. So what had happened tonight? Was it simply a case of Dave having too much to drink? But wait...Dave had said that he hadn't had anything to drink at all. Had he lied? He had to have, because he was defiantly under the influence of something tonight. But why would he lie about that? And John had certainly had sex with Dave when he was drunk before, and it'd never ever been like *that*. If anything, Dave was more submissive when he was drunk, less in control than usual.
Perhaps it had been the conversation about John penetrating him. That had freaked Dave out, and now it was freaking out John too. He was shocked that it'd taken him so long to realize that Dave didn't like to be touched. But why? Did John really want to know? Would Dave even ever tell him? It seemed as if it was a memory that Dave wanted to forget and not mention at all, but even if he'd achieved that in his consciousness, his subconscious - his dreams - weren't ready to forget just yet.
Proving so was just how restless Dave was in his sleep right now: tossing and turning, moaning softly sometimes. Full of worry and unable to sleep, John leaned over and turned on the light on Dave's nightstand, turning to watch Dave sleep. The bed sheets had slid down Dave's chest, and John caught sight of those terrible scars again. But there were new marks...not scars but something else. Upon closer inspection, John could see that they were scratches. But why would Dave scratch himself so heavily?
Before John could mull over that question any further, Dave let out a short scream and shot up in bed, his body beaded with sweat and his eyes wild, searching the room but unable to focus on anything. John jumped in surprise, but quickly recognized when Dave had had a nightmare.
"Dave," he said gently, knowing that if the nightmare had been bad he might not know where he was, so he hoped his voice would bring Dave to reality. "Dave, are you okay?"
"I...I don't feel well," Dave said, clutching his stomach as he rushed out of bed and ran to the bathroom, tripping over the bed sheet and nearly falling as he did so. John quickly followed him, watching as the younger man knelt in front of the toilet and proceeded to vomit violently, his body shaking with each heave.
John reached for a washcloth, wetting it with cold water before kneeling down next to Dave, rubbing comforting circles on the younger man's back while he finished throwing up. The Junior Resident wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, moving away from John to slump against the wall. With the washcloth, John wiped the sweat from Dave's brow, hoping the cool cloth would make him feel a little better. He must've been sicker than John had previously thought.
"Come on," John whispered, gently moving the cloth to Dave's cheek and neck. "Let's get you back to bed."
Dave barely registered the cold cloth against his skin. John was being so gentle with him, and just hours earlier, he'd treated the older man as if he were nothing more than a fuckboy to fuck, not a lover to love. How could John care about him so much? He didn't deserve it...hell, he barely deserved living.
"Dave, let's go back to bed," he repeated, watching Dave for a reaction. The younger man looked up at John with eyes that the Chief Resident barely recognized: they were wild and frightened, full of fear and anxiety. And then he quickly looked away, breathing heavily. "Dave...?"
"I..." Dave started, whispering, barely able to get the words out. He looked up at John again, licking his dry lips. "I hurt you tonight."
"It's okay, Dave," John reassured him. "I'm not hurt."
"No! No, it isn't okay!" Dave suddenly shouted, running his hands through his hair, grabbing and pulling with a scream. He moved one hand down to his chest, scratching it again, scratching at the fucking itching that wouldn't go away, scratching so hard he drew blood. "Fuck! It isn't okay!!"
"Dave, stop it!" John yelled, his eyes wide as he grabbed Dave's wrists, stopping him from pulling out his own hair and clawing at his own chest. Jesus H. Christ, what was going on here? Dave was certainly not only drunk and certainly not only sick, that was for sure. "Dave, did you take anything tonight?"
His head snapped up to look at John, his heart skipping a beat. "What?"
"Did you take anything," he repeated, more slowly this time.
"Cold medicine," Dave answered quickly, scratching again. "I...I told you that already."
"Did you take more than you were supposed to?" John asked as he grabbed Dave's wrists once more. "Stop scratching!"
"I can't!" Dave cried. "It itches!"
"Why?!"
"I don't know!" he exclaimed. But he did know. He knew exactly why. It was because of the two Dexedrines he'd taken combined with the amphetamines in the cold medicine, side effects: dry mouth and throat, nausea, and itching when you'd taken too much.
"Dave, did you take more than you were supposed to?" John repeated urgently, checking Dave's pulse. Shit, it was racing! He knew right then that Dave was having a reaction to whatever he'd taken; he was showing all the symptoms of a minor overdose, something that wasn't life-threatening but potentially dangerous.
"A little," Dave lied. What the hell was he supposed to say? That he took two Dexedrines with two Benadryls?
"Shit," John muttered, his head dropping before he raised it again to look at Dave, watching him carefully. God, the man looked like Hell. "I think you're having a reaction to it."
"What?" If Dave's heart was racing before, it was galloping with anxiety now. He was having a reaction? What kind of reaction? Was he overdosing? He looked up at John, licking his dry lips again. "I...I..."
"Shh..." John said, helping Dave to his feet. He led Dave into the bedroom, allowing the younger man to put most of his weight on him. "I'll help you get dressed, and then we'll go to County."
"What?!" Dave shouted, suddenly pushing John away, who glanced at him with surprise. God, this was almost too much to handle. If Dave didn't calm down soon he was going to call an ambulance and get him to the hospital with help if he couldn't do it by himself. "I don't - I don't need to go to the hospital! I'm fine!"
"Dave, you're having a reaction to the medication!" John said, taking a step towards the younger man. "We need to get a tox screen and treat you! You could be overdosing, for God's sake!"
"No!" Dave yelled. He instinctively took two steps away from John when he stepped towards him, and John saw the unmistakable look of fear in Dave's expression and in his eyes, so he froze in place. Then Dave began pacing the room like a caged animal, pleading with John. "I don't want to go...I told you, I'm fine. I'm fine, John, I just..."
"Okay, Dave," John said, holding his hands out, stepping towards Dave slowly and cautiously. "We'll stay here, but you need to calm down, okay?"
"I'm tired, John," Dave suddenly said, looking up at the older man with glistening eyes. John stopped moving towards him, waiting for Dave to elaborate, though it was unnecessary. He knew that Dave didn't mean he wanted to go to sleep. The younger man buried his face in his hands for a moment, and John was almost sure he was going to cry, but Dave looked up instead, his eyes portraying his desperation. "I'm so fucking tired."
"I know," John said, approaching Dave, remembering Dave in a similar state a few weeks ago, when he'd talked with him in the Lounge after he'd been caught by Dr. Weaver having sex in the back of an ambulance with a pretty paramedic. Then he'd been worried, but now he was worried sick. Could it possibly get any worse than this? He wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Come on. Let's go to bed."
John reached out to Dave, gently touching his shoulder, but the younger man flinched and pulled away, startled. John reached out again, and this time Dave did not startle in surprise, and he led the Junior Resident to bed, covering him with the bed sheets. He rolled up in a ball again, raising a hand to scratch at another itch when he saw John watching and thought better of it. The Chief Resident then moved to the other side of the bed, glancing back at Dave before he turned out the light.
"Are you all right now, Dave?" he asked softly. Upon receiving no reply, John raised his head off of the pillow. "Dave?"
He was passed out again. John's eyes shifted to the phone. Perhaps he should call the hospital and get an ambulance... He checked Dave's vitals just to reassure himself that Dave would be fine right here, but he kept the light on and watched Dave for a long time before finally giving in to his heavy eyes and turning it off, falling to sleep as well.
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I remind myself of somebody else now
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A scream. A throaty, bloody scream of pure terror ripping through the night, tearing the silence in two and mutilating it until it was gone. It awoke John almost immediately, his heart beating in his chest as if it were trying to escape, and he sat straight up in bed, turning to where the source of the scream was coming from: Dave.
He looked to the younger man, expecting to find him being brutally murdered in bed by an intruder who had somehow broken into the apartment without them waking. Instead, however, he saw that the younger man was, in fact, still asleep, being tortured by a nightmare that often visited him in his dreams. But never like this, never in such a way that John had awoken fearing for Dave's life.
"Dave!" He placed his hands on Dave's shoulders, gently shaking him in an attempt to wake him up. The Junior Resident's body was slick with perspiration, and John's hands nearly slipped off of Dave's shoulders. "Dave, wake up!"
"No!" Dave moaned, though it wasn't a response to John's command, but a response to whatever was happening to him in his dream. "Please, stop...please, let me go...!"
"Dave, it's me, John," he said urgently, shaking Dave harder. He squinted his eyes, trying to see in the darkness, and upon closer examination he saw that it was not only sweat on Dave's face, but also tears. God, what could be happening in his nightmares, the nightmares that he would not share with John or anyone else? "Dave, please wake up! Dave!"
"Let me go!" Dave whimpered, his voice desperate as he tried to push John away from him. Dave, though, sleeping and seeing someone else besides John in his dreams, reached out blindly, and he ended up grazing John's jaw with his hand. John pulled away in surprise, turning back to Dave with his hand to his face. He grabbed him again, this time shaking him hard. "Christ! Wake up, Dave! Get up! Get up!!"
"Stop it!" Dave screamed, sobbing. His eyes flew open, but he still fought against John, not recognizing where he was. "Please, just stop it!"
"Dave!" John said, reaching over and turning on the light. "Dave, it's just me, it's just John. It's John, Dave...it's just me. You're safe, you're safe..."
He took the younger man in his arms, forcing him to stay still. At first, Dave struggled, but soon, he clutched at John like a life buoy, sobbing openly into his chest. John began to rock him back and forth, rubbing soothing circles on his back, hoping that he was comforting him as much as he could. He'd comforted Dave like this many times since they began sleeping together, but no nightmares had ever been this terrible, had never been this violent and scary.
The cries died down, and then there were a few moments of silence, and then finally, John said: "Dave...? Are you all right now?"
"Yeah..." he said, his voice hoarse from sobbing. The Junior Resident sniffled, pulling away but not out of John's arms, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. He leaned the side of his face on John's shoulder, regaining his composure. "I'm sorry about that." He suddenly laughed, but there was no humor in it. "And that's not even one of the worst I've had."
"It's okay," John said, mostly because he couldn't think of anything else to say. He wished that he could ask Dave what the nightmare had been about, but Dave had specifically asked that John not ask, so he didn't. They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of the night for a long time. Then: "You were alone before, Dave. And now you're not. So nothing can be that bad anymore."
Dave looked to John's face, which was slightly visible in the darkness, and he smiled softly before hugging John tightly. "God, I wish I could believe you, John. I really do..." There was a pause and then. "Thank you," he whispered into the older man's ear. He sniffled again, taking in a shaky breath before disentangling himself from John. He cleared his throat, wiping away his tears quickly, suddenly embarrassed about his outburst. "We've both got early shifts tomorrow...let's get back to bed, okay?"
"Sure," John said, sensing Dave's discomfiture. He pushed the covers aside and stood, his bare feet touching the carpet as the cold of the winter night and a poor heater reached his naked body. He indicated the bathroom. "I just need to use the bathroom. I'll be back in a second."
"Okay," Dave replied, lying back in bed and curling up into his usual sleeping position. John watched him for a moment before heading towards the bathroom, turning on the light once he was inside and leaving the door open, bathing the bedroom in a soft yellow glow. Dave glanced at him, squinting against the light. "Take your time."
John relieved himself, and then washed his hands, turning his face slightly to see if Dave had caused any damage to his jaw. There was a slight bruise forming, but it probably wouldn't be anything too noticeable. But it did hurt a little, so he decided to take an Aspirin, and he opened the mirror, revealing Dave's medicine cabinet.
That morning, John had opened the medicine cabinet as well, searching for a shaver that he could use because he'd forgotten to bring one over again. He'd seen the Dexedrines that Dave had accidentally grabbed from the drug lockup at County, and made a note to tell Dave to take them back to work. It'd been a few weeks since he'd taken them, but John had forgotten about them as well, so he guessed that Dave had forgotten about them too. But they were gone now. Dave must've taken them back to work...but when?
He went still. Dave hadn't...? Had he? He turned to look at the younger man, lying in bed, curled up into a fetal position, the bathroom light drifting upon him, giving him a surreal effect. Tonight, Dave's behavior had been very, very odd, but he'd said he hadn't drunken anything, and John had thought it was due to the cold medication...but could it have been something else causing him to act that way? He glanced once again to the now empty shelve, where the Dexedrine used to be. Was it more than the cold medicine?
It was. Deep down inside he knew.
"God," he said to himself, shaking his head. "What am I thinking?"
"Huh?" Dave mumbled from the bed, half-asleep. "Say something, John?"
"No," John said, shaking his head still, shaking the thoughts from his mind. He rubbed his face with his hands, knowing that when people were tired they didn't think straight, they thought stupid things that didn't make quite that much sense. That's what this was: stupid. Dave wasn't using drugs, he was just emotional...he was just...Dave. He turned off the bathroom light, heading back into bed, joining Dave and moving close to him, spooning with the younger man, feeling Dave's heart beating against his own.
Tomorrow, he'd be thinking straight, and he wouldn't be thinking this at all.
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Feeling like I'm chasing,
Like I'm facing myself alone
I've got somebody else's thoughts in my head
I want some of my own
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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