Luka and John were busy moving full trays from the kitchen to the carts, but it was Luka who noticed that Gillian kept looking at them, an odd expression on her face. At first he told himself he was imagining it, that it was his own mind tricking him into thinking that she suspected he and Carter had been together. But as he worked, there would be time he'd see her watching Carter, and then looking over at him, always smiling coyly before looking away from him and back to her task of filling the plates on the trays.
Okay, it was getting to be too much, Luka thought, and as he reached for the last of the trays needed for his cart; he paused long enough to talk to her. "Good morning, Gillian. I trust you slept well."
She chuckled as the coy smile once more returned. "I slept, but it would have been much better if I hadn't slept alone, wouldn't it?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, a frown now on his face.
"Gillian?" Carter's voice interrupted them, and Luka's body could feel it as the man neared them. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, I am." She wiped her hands on her apron, and then walked around the counter, linking her arm with his and taking one last glance back at Luka. "So, tell me, John, did Luka put you to bed all right last night?"
It took all of Luka's self-control to not step forward and separate the female barracuda from Carter, but he knew that to react that way would not only confirm her suspicions, but would most likely scare Carter away, and that was something Luka never wanted to have happen. But he continued to stare at them until he felt a hand on his arm.
Jerking as he turned to the side, Luka found himself looking at Charles. "You were a million miles away," Charles observed. He had called Luka's name several times, but with no answer. "Are you ready?"
"Sorry. Yes. I'm ready. Let's go." Luka carried the last trays to the cart and then he and Charles headed to the section of the hospital where they were assigned to distribute the trays. Once there, nurses would help them pass out the food, although what was served to the patients was no different from what the staff ate. Which basically meant it was close to inedible, at least to Western stomachs. Most of the patients though, having spent months living hand-to-mouth, were grateful for the food, leaving nothing behind on their plates. Luka had gone hungry before, and could empathize with them. He only wished that they could eat just as 'well' once they were released, but knew that it was a vain hope as long as the country was torn apart by war.
He also wished that he and Charles were working in the same part of the hospital as Gillian and Carter, so he could keep an eye on them, and he found himself staring at their retreating figures as Charles began to push the cart.
"Relax, Luka. She's been flirting with him since the day he arrived and he hasn't done anything yet. She's still your girl, even if you did get caught fooling around on the side. Although, I can't blame you. Moira had a very nice body, didn't she?" he asked with a leer.
"I'm not worried," Luka replied. And he wasn't. Even if they weren't a 'couple' in Carter's eyes, Luka knew that Carter wouldn't fall into Gillian's bed now. Not when there was still unfinished business between them. It just wasn't Carter's way. No, the worry would come the next morning, if Carter decided that the then finished business wasn't what he was looking for in a relationship.
Working quickly, John and Gillian had distributed all of their trays and were now waiting to pick up the empties. The patients had about thirty minutes to eat, which gave them time to sit and gather their thoughts before the day truly began.
Gillian smiled at him. "So, it doesn't take much to knock you out, does it?"
"Excuse me?" John asked, his thoughts about Luka interrupted by her question.
"I didn't give you all that much vodka, but it seemed to hit you hard. You don't drink, then?" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering him one even though he had turned her down each and every previous time she'd offered.
John shook his head and watched as Gillian lit one for herself. "I'm O-negative and Angelique asked me to give blood last night since the surgeries had left us a bit low. I shouldn't have drank on an empty stomach, but..."
"But you made the exception for this Abby person." Gillian blew a smoke circle, then looked sideways at him. "She must be very special for you to feel that much for her."
"She is very special. But it's over between us. Things have been rough for her these past few months. Family trouble, mostly. And she didn't want me coming here. I'm not sure if she just didn't want to be alone or if she was afraid I wouldn't come back. Abby's not really used to men coming back, you know?" John sighed and leaned back in the chair. "I could have understood her reaching out for one time, needing comfort or something like that. But...I called her and he - the other guy, that is, answered her phone. I'd obviously interrupted them fooling around."
"And what did she say about him being there?" Gillian asked as she flicked the ashes from her cigarette.
"She didn't say anything. I ended the call without talking to her. I called a friend of ours, and Susan told me that Abby's been seeing this guy. That she'd been with him since about the second night after I left." John shook his head. "I can't forgive that, Gillian. I just can't. That's a lot more than just reaching out for comfort."
"Especially while you were being so noble and turning me down every night," she commented.
John looked closely at her, thinking that Gillian was making fun of him, but she looked serious. "You never gave me any invitations. Until last night, that is."
She laughed. "When I look at a man, it's an invitation, John. You just never saw that. She's a stupid woman."
John smiled weakly. "Thank you. I think. I should probably call her. I'm sure she's heard from Susan by now, and is aware that I know. I just...I'm not interested in hearing her excuses."
"Especially after spending the night with her ex-boyfriend," Gillian commented as she crushed out the end of her smoke.
"Excuse me?" John asked, wanting to pretend that she wasn't as confident about that as she was sounding.
Gillian got to her feet and walked over to him, a small smile on her face as she reached out and adjusted the collar of his shirt. "After undressing, Luka stayed in your room all night." She gave him a light kiss on his cheek. "When dressing in the early morning, without any other light in the room, you have to extra careful to make sure that you're putting on your own clothes, John. You're wearing each other's shirts."
John looked down sharply, only just then realizing that Luka's scent had never been far from him. He could feel his cheeks growing warm as he wondered if anyone else had noticed.
"It's okay, John. I won't tell anyone. You're lucky, though. Luka's very, very good in bed."
"I wouldn't know," he heard himself admitting. "I...ah...I more or less fell asleep before anything could happen."
"I see." She said, and the amused tone of Gillian's voice made John look up at her. "You want to, though, don't you?"
"I really don't think we should be discussing this, do you?"
She laughed. "Oh, yes. What else is there to talk about here? Tonight, John, stay away from giving blood and drinking vodka and go to bed as soon as it gets dark. Morning comes all too quickly around here."
"We really need to collect the trays now," he said, looking for any excuse to end that particular line of conversation.
"Yes, we do," Gillian agreed. But there was still an odd tone in her voice and John didn't quite trust it. He knew he'd have to tell Luka what she had surmised, and the idea of getting close enough to the man so they could speak without being overheard was a nice one. A very nice one.
"Come on, lover boy," Gillian's voice snapped him out of his reverie and John realized that he had been getting hard just thinking about being near Luka. That wasn't good. It wasn't good at all. With a sigh and a demand that his body behave, John headed toward the ward to collect trays, hoping that no one, but especially Gillian, noticed his half-erection. He didn't want her to have any further indications that her suppositions were true.
At breakfast, which for John consisted of coffee and bread since he had no real appetite for the kitchen prepared food, he found himself unable to keep his eyes away from Luka. Damn, but the man looked good wearing his shirt, he thought. And it was lucky for John that eating while seated hid the result of that kind of thinking. Of course, it didn't help matters any that Luka kept looking down the table at him, or that Gillian kept nudging him in the ribs to bring his attention to the fact that Luka kept looking at him. At one point the devious women even leaned close enough to whisper in his ear 'Think you can last until Chicago?' The witch.
Work was, thankfully, less stressful than breakfast had been. When John had stepped into the waiting area and saw the already growing sea of patients, all thoughts of Luka had disappeared. This was what he was here for, to help these people as best he could. Despite the war, despite the conditions and lack of supplies. They had lost one person yesterday, and John so desperately didn't want to lose another, but he knew that he'd see more death before he went home. He didn't have to like it, though.
He sighed as he looked at Gillian. "Let's get started. The kitchen has extra food today, right?" It was the policy to feed the outpatients whenever possible, even if it was just a slice of bread.
Gillian nodded. "There's food today, yes." She grabbed a chart and walked to the old woman seated on the floor nearest the desk, obviously the first patient to have arrived.
John surmised that people had been gathering for over an hour, maybe more. The old woman held a child in her lap, grandchild most likely, he thought, but as he stepped up beside Gillian, he was shocked to discover that the 'old' woman was in fact a young mother. Once more he found himself railing against mankind, the world, God and universe for conditions that made a twenty-five year old look as if she was nearing 70. Starvation, too many pregnancies, being brutally raped and left infected with HIV by the rebel forces had taken their toll on her. Ravaged by malnutrition and disease, she was barely holding on, and her child was in just as bad shape. Her only remaining child out of ten live births since her had her first pregnancy when she was only 14. Some were dead from malnutrition, the some shot by rebels, and this last one was also dying from malnutrition and AIDS. All John could do was to make the dying easier on the child.
He gave Gillian the orders and his gaze passed over the rest of the patients while Gillian translated his words into French so the mother could understand what was going to happen. All of the millions already dead in the country since the various wars had started, since food became a luxury instead of a routine part of life. And his family was throwing money away to build a damn concert hall...
As much as that ate at him, John knew that the reality was that his family didn't have enough money to even make a dent in what needed to be done. The rest of the world had just sat by and did nothing while all of this happened. It wasn't their problem, they would say. We can't interfere. All of the usual bullshit answers. John spied Luka on the other side of the room, talking to a young man with only one leg...the rest of the world had said those words while Luka's country was being invaded by the Serbian forces, had said those words while Luka's family was bombed to death. How could the man keep on volunteering like this? Going to places that had to remind him of the conditions he had once lived under?
Luka looked up and their eyes met, and the compassion and sadness that John saw in Luka's eyes, even from across the room, went right to his own soul, giving him the answers to those questions. Luka volunteered over and over again because he knew exactly how these people felt, and it would be unthinkable for Luka to NOT do what he could to help. John felt a twinge of guilt over the fact that he had waited so long to volunteer. Look at all the years he had wasted feeling sorry for himself when he could have been out in the world helping those who would be lucky if they had had just one portion of his 'problems'.
He sent a quick smile Luka's way, and then knelt down beside his patient, letting Gillian take the child while he gathered the underweight mother into his arms. "They need food," he told Gillian as he headed in the direction of the dining room, not caring that they usually didn't take patients there. This was one person who wasn't going to go back outside to sit and wait under a tree for someone to bring her a plate of rice and gravy.
The day passed, one patient after another, a short break for a lunch that John felt guilty eating when so many people were going without, then more patients. It was nearly dark when Angelique started to turn people away, telling them to return in the morning unless they were seriously injured.
John was on his way to the dining room when Gillian intercepted him. "Come with me," she said, taking him by the wrist and leading him through the hallways.
Too tired to argue with her, John allowed himself to be led away, not really noticing until they came to a halt that they were on the hallway where they all slept. "Gillian, I don't drink. That much should have been obvious."
She smiled and shook her head. "I noticed, but that's not what we're here for. Marsillia owed me a favor of a hot bath and I decided to call in that favor now." She opened the door of one of the unused rooms, revealing that the bed had been pushed against the wall to make room for a metal tub halfway filled with steaming water. Towels, a washcloth, soap and his shampoo were on a stool at the side. There were several candles on the night table, and a few more on another stool. The window was shuttered, but the slats were slightly ajar to let in fresh air. In all, it was a very inviting room, and despite the fact that they were already living in humid conditions, John was quite tempted to take advantage of it.
"Gillian, thank you, but I can't. You've been here much longer than I have...it's your bath. You take it." It was cute though, that women the world over seemed to think that candles were a natural part of a bath.
"I can settle for a shower tonight. So, it's like this. You can get in there and graciously accept my gift, or I can pull you in there and bathe you. Which will it be?" She asked, her grin more than lecherous.
"I'll accept it, thank you. After today..."
"I know," she quietly replied. "Oh, I almost forgot something. Wait here."
John leaned against the doorjamb, fighting the call of the hot water while he watched Gillian disappear into her room, then reappear, two cans of Coke in her hand. He laughed as she handed them to him, but then his amusement gave way to wonder as he realized they were cold. "How'd you get them cold?"
"My secret. Let's just say that many people owe me favors. Now, get in there before I start to strip you down." She playfully pushed him into the room, then closed the door behind him.
John put the cans down on the floor near the towels, and then quickly stripped. As he eased himself into the soothing water, he discovered that he was achy in more than one place. His back, never the best anyway, was extremely sore, and he knew the hot water would do him good as far as that was concerned. He closed his eyes and scrunched down as far as he could in the metal tub, his lower legs hanging over the end in order to get all of his body under the water. But what the heck, it wasn't as if there was anyone in there to see him looking awkward, John thought. Although it would be close to perfect if Luka had been there, but he hadn't seen Luka since the middle of the afternoon and had no idea where the man had gone. He supposed that he'd see him soon enough, though, and his body was definitely looking forward to Luka fulfilling his promise from that morning.
Luka pushed the rice around on his plate while several things ran through his mind, the least of which being trying to figure out just how many different ways the cooks could prepare rice, and the most important one being where had Carter gone off to. He had last seen him that afternoon, right before he had been called away to help Angelique in surgery. He had spent some of that time telling Angelique that Carter had been a surgical intern several years ago and that she could certainly use his assistance the rest of the time he was there. Angelique had agreed with that idea, saying she'd start using Carter's skills the next day, so Luka could go back to the clinic.
He had forgotten all about the clinic, and he found himself loath to return there. What if Abby called Carter while he was gone, begging for his understanding? Despite Carter's assertions that things were permanently over between them, Luka feared that Carter would change his mind once Abby started to 'explain' things to him and begged for forgiveness. Carter was the forgiving type anyway, and the fact that he loved Abby would make it even more likely that he'd take her back and return home to Chicago as if nothing had happened.
Luka didn't want that. He wanted to get back to Chicago, tell Abby what a complete and total fool she was and then be the one waiting with open arms at the airport for his lover to return. The question though, was what would Carter want? Aside from a few glances and smiles during the day, they'd never had any contact. For all Luka knew, Carter had changed his mind about things, was already willing to give Abby another chance, was still madly in love with...
"Luka?"
Luka's head jerked up and he frowned at Gillian. He really wasn't in the mood for her endless questioning. "What?" he coldly asked, hoping she'd just go away. And God forbid she tried to invite him into her bed, having decided that she'd forgiven him the affair with Moira.
"Bring your plate, grab some more bread and follow me," Gillian said, a smirk playing around her mouth.
"Why?"
"Luka...don't make this difficult. I have a surprise for you and you need to bring those things with you. Now, come on." She took a few steps away from the table, then turned to look at him. "Don't forget the bread."
Luka frowned, then got to his feet, ignoring the stares and snickers from the other table. He was sure they all thought that Gillian was going to make him pay for his fooling around before and he really didn't care. Let them think what they wished...just as long as Carter wasn't one of the ones thinking that. He went to the kitchen and grabbed more bread, then caught up to Gillian just outside of the room.
"I have no intention of sharing your bed tonight, Gillian," he told her, getting things clear between them right from the start.
"Of course you aren't," she said, that smirk still in place. "Come along."
Luka followed her to the dormitory hallway, thinking that perhaps she was planning to seduce him right then, which would be in keeping with her agreement that he wouldn't be sharing her bed that 'night', since it was early evening. She passed her room, though, and kept on walking, until she reached the end of the hallway.
"Go on inside," she said as she gestured toward the door, her smirk finally changing into a secretive smile. "And enjoy."
Luka stood in front of the door, watching her hips sway seductively as she walked away, leaving him alone. He had no idea what there could be inside a room he knew to be empty that would be enjoyable to him, but curiosity got the better of him and he placed the bread on top of the rice, then turned the handle. The first thing he noticed as the door opened was the candlelight flickering in the room, which was a bit more humid than usual. Then as the door opened fully, he found his heart beating faster and his cock growing hard as he was rewarded with the sight of John Carter lounging in an old metal tub, steam rising up around his body. The man's legs were hanging over the end, and his eyes were closed; yet a look of bliss was on his face.
Moving quietly, Luka stepped into the room, then closed and locked the door behind him. Damn that woman, he thought, but God bless her as well. He walked to the foot of the tub and looked down at the body he desired so very much. "Hungry?" he softly asked, breaking the silence.
"Starving," John replied, opening his eyes and smiling up at Luka. "Oh, you were talking about food?"
"Brat," Luka said with a laugh, but the fact that Carter's cock had hardened as he spoke hadn't escaped his notice. He walked over to the side and saw a stool there, with a few bath items on it. He moved them to the bed, and then sat down, his foot knocking into an unopened can of Coke. He balanced the plate on his lap, picked up the can, then opened it to take a wonderfully refreshing swallow. Living in the United States had given him a taste for chilled beverages, and he wondered how John had managed to get his hands on not one, but two cold cans of the soda.
"Gillian's surprise for me," John said, still smiling. "The bath, the cold sodas...you."
"You told her about us?" Luka asked as he passed the can to Carter, who sat up to take it from him.
John shook his head. "I didn't have to. It seems that when someone was in a hurry to get dressed this morning, he threw his shirt at me and then put mine on. I have to say, Luka, that you do look pretty sexy in my shirt," John said, smirking.
"Oh." Okay, so he had been in a bit of a rush and should have been paying more attention to details like that. "I wonder what she'd have thought if she knew I was also wearing your underwear?"
"She'd think it was very lucky underwear," John replied as he passed the can back to Luka. "What did they do to the rice tonight?"
Luka looked down at the plate. "I'm not sure, but it tastes good for a change. Open up." He scooped a small bit onto his fork, then held it toward Carter's mouth. The look that Carter was giving him was amusing, and Luka knew the man was about to protest being fed. Then he had the most wonderful idea, and he grinned broadly at Carter. "Since this is your special treat, then not only do you get to have me feeding you, but I will also bathe you. And then I will get a quick bath and after that...after that I will..."
"Fulfill me in a way I never before dreamed possible?" John asked, his dark eyes growing darker as he spoke.
"Exactly," Luka hoarsely replied, and he watched with growing desire as Carter's lips wrapped around the fork, then slowly slid off of it, taking the food.
"Mmmm," John said, his eyes glued to Luka's. "You're right. It does taste good. But then again, I think that everything is going to taste good tonight."
"Most definitely," Luka said. He moved the plate to the floor and leaned over, capturing Carter's mouth, his tongue probing, needing to taste the man over and over again. The kiss ended reluctantly, leaving him wanting more.
"Are you going to climb in here with me?" John asked, his twinkling eyes giving away his amusement since he wasn't smiling.
"Not yet. I'll let you enjoy your soak for a while longer. Besides which, it's too humid for me to enjoy such a hot bath right now." The humidity in the Congo was bad enough, but Luka's shirt was now entirely soaked through due to the additional humidity of the room. He wasn't sure how Carter was able to stand the sheer oppressiveness of the air, even with the slight breeze that was sneaking in through the louvered shudders.
"It's not so bad," John replied with a small smirk. "If you like steam rooms, that is."
"You've got that part right," Luka agreed as he reached for the plate once more. "Maybe by the time we're done eating, the water will have reached a decent temperature." Even as he spoke, Luka knew very well that once he was done eating, he was going to be touching Carter one way or the other, and the water temperature wouldn't keep him from it.
John closed his eyes once more as he relaxed into the water, and they ate in silence, Luka feeding John forkfuls of rice in-between bites of bread and sips of Coke. Luka wasn't quite sure just what Carter thought about being fed, but since the man wasn't arguing about it, Luka kept doing it, and enjoying it. Especially some of the more imaginative ways he found to share the soda with Carter, since it didn't matter if any of the Coke spilt.
Maintaining the silence, Luka put the plate and fork down, then got to his feet, his fingers working on the buttons of his shirt - of Carter's shirt - letting it drop to the floor while he kept his eyes on the completely relaxed form of Carter in the tub. His cock, which had backed from its aroused state while they ate, sprang back to life, rigid and throbbing against the binding of his underwear - Luka grinned as he once more had to correct himself - Carter's underwear - and pants. It wanted to be released, to feel the cooling night air against its flushed skin. It wanted to be escape the heat and humidity of the room and instead find its pleasure in the warmth and heat of Carter's mouth. It wanted to bury itself deep inside of Carter's body, joining them together as one being that shared two hearts. And Luka wanted all of that as much as his cock seemed to want it. It was possible that he wanted it even more.
Luka undid his belt and quickly unzipped his pants, and that sound made Carter's eyes flutter open. Their eyes locked at first, Luka couldn't help but grin as he watched Carter's glance move down his body, widening slightly as Luka's erection came into view, bobbing in the thick air of the room. As Luka bent over to get his pants from his legs, he heard movement in the tub, and as he straightened, he saw that Carter had sat up, and was now leaning his arms on the side of the tub, a grin on his face as he watched Luka disrobe.
"Still like what you see?" Luka asked, feeling slightly anxious as he waited for Carter's response. He knew he had a nice looking body, despite a scar or two, and he'd never had complaints on it. But, aside from his wife, he hadn't really cared all that much about whether or not his partners actually liked his body. It had been enough that they wanted him. But now, with Carter, it mattered.
John smiled slowly and nodded as his hand reached out to caress Luka's thigh. "I like it very much. But I think I'd like it better if it was in the tub with me."
Luka's grin was broad and amused. "Not yet. I still have to bathe you, remember? And then you get your turn." He picked up the shampoo, then walked to the end of the tub. "Get your hair wet for me."
John sighed, but moved anyway, bending over and dunking his entire head under the water, then slicking it back with his hands as he sat back up. "If you bathe me first, then you'll have to have your bath in dirty water, and that won't be any good. We should do this together."
While Carter had been getting his hair wet, Luka had poured shampoo into his hand, and he now began to work it into Carter's hair, his fingers massaging the scalp. "In Chicago, you argue with me. Even here, in this hospital, you argue with me. But in here, in this room?" He shook his head. "In here I won't allow you to argue with me. In here, John Carter, you WILL listen to me, and you WILL do as I say." Luka leaned forward a bit and sucked softly just under Carter's ear, letting his action soften the force of his words. "There are things we will do together, but not this."
A moan caught Luka's attention, and he could see through the water that the soft sucking was already causing the desired reaction in Carter's body. He smiled and kept washing Carter's hair, taking care to keep it out of his eyes, as he didn't want anything to mar this time they shared.
"Now to rinse. Scoot down so that I can lean your head back into the water," Luka commanded. Despite his earlier words and Carter's apparent acceptance of the situation, Luka found himself wondering if Carter would argue with him over the instructions. It was a doubt that seemed to gain ground when Carter didn't immediately move. "Any time next week..." Luka muttered.
"That's 'anytime tomorrow', and I'm trying to figure out a way to move that low into the water without drowning," John lightly replied. "I don't think this tub was made for a tall person."
Luka was pretty sure it wasn't, since he could have sworn he'd seen that tub, or one just like it, in the laundry area of the hospital the previous week. But he remained silent about that since he wasn't sure about the level of Carter's fastidiousness. "Just move forward as far as possible and lean back. I won't let you drown, Carter."
Luka moved to the side and placed his arm behind Carter's back as the man moved, scrunching his long body as much as possible against the front of the tub. "Good. Now, lean back against my arm and I'll lower you toward the water."
"I'm not so sure I like this," John said, but he moved anyway, letting his weight rest against Luka's arm, the movement itself showing how much he trusted the man.
"It's not so bad," Luka commented. He smiled as he lowered Carter's body to the water until just his hair was underneath it. With his other hand, Luka began to ladle more water over Carter's head, still keeping it away from his eyes while rinsing away the shampoo. "I've had practice doing this, so you have nothing to worry about." How many hours had he spent on his knees beside the bathtub washing his children's hair, Luka wondered. After all the years, he was surprised that he remembered how it had felt to run his fingers through Jasna's clean hair, through Marco's curls...how odd that he needed photographs to remind him of what they looked like, but could, at that moment, anyway, remember how their hair had felt?
The image of the man below him blurred and Luka realized that he had tears in his eyes. It had been a long time since he'd cried over his children, and doing so right then definitely destroyed the delicious erection he'd been experiencing. How could a person think of sex when they had memories of children in mind?
"Are you okay?" John's voice softly broke the silence.
Luka looked down into Carter's eyes. Eyes that looked right into your soul. Eyes that told him everything about Carter's soul. God in Heaven, but he loved those eyes, those lips - he loved everything about Carter, including the way he always argued with him. But Luka didn't love him enough to want Carter to see him crying, so he nodded. "Some soap splashed up into my eyes. I'll be fine. There, you're all rinsed clean. Now sit up so I can wash your body." Luka helped Carter back to an upright position, then sat back on his haunches and reached for the towel, drying his own eyes before passing it to Carter so he could dry his own face.
To be continued
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