As the cold air hit his cheeks Dave could feel himself reddening slightly. He'd been careless about condoms too, last weekend. He didn't understand what had come over him, or why he'd wanted everything that he had so badly. He'd practically begged -- Hell, he had begged -- for Carter's cock to go up his ass.
Dave shook his head, and zoomed through an orange light. He hadn't seen Carter since he'd been dropped off back at his apartment that day. Somehow Carter had swapped out of every shift they had together. Dave couldn't blame him. He didn't really want to see Carter either. Not after all the stuff that had happened.
He didn't know why he'd done it, and he didn't know why he still got hard when he thought about what they'd done. He did know that his injuries from that night and morning had healed -- his ass didn't ache any more, the hickies Carter had given him were barely perceptible orange marks on his chest, the bruise Adam had left on his stomach was orange and fading too, and he could barely remember what it had been like to be so cold. All of which didn't explain why he still swallowed hard sometimes when he thought about Carter.
Dave turned into the ambulance bay, and tried to remember who the attending on duty today was. If it wasn't the Chief he stood a better than 50/50 chance of getting to keep his bike in the lounge during the shift. The official schedule -- the one on his fridge at home -- had said that Greene was the attending on duty -- but Greene was getting nuked regularly so it wouldn't be him. For the last few days all the schedules had been upside down and inside out.
Dave poked his head through the automatic doors. He couldn't see the Chief. It was worth a chance. He casually walked through the doors, and sauntered toward the lounge, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be leading a bike there.
John stood staring into his locker. He felt like a chicken with the way he had been avoiding Dave since New Year's. But he really wasn't sure if he was up to facing the man yet. The feelings of love that John had felt were still there, and the hurt feelings -- the ones that came when he discovered that Dave didn't return that love -- well, they were still there, too. So, avoiding Dave had seemed to be the best course of action. Especially since John wasn't sure that he could even look at Dave without getting hard. Even now, as he was simply thinking about the other man, John could feel a stirring in his groin.
He draped the stethoscope around his neck just as the door of the lounge opened. John shut his locker and turned; ready to say a cheery 'good morning' to whomever it was that had just entered the room. The words caught in his throat though as he watched Dave Malucci trying to get his bicycle into the room.
Dave looked up from trying to get the unwieldy bike through the doors when he heard a locker shut. "H..." It was Carter. Dave stared at him, open-mouthed for a second. "You're on today?"
John nodded. "Yeah." He didn't trust himself to say more than that.
Dave tried to shove the bike through the door that was closing onto it. "You're..." Carter looked wonderful, tall and dark haired, clean. Well, he should be clean, he showered enough. "You're not on the schedule."
"I can't remember the last time I saw a real schedule. Weaver told me to be here at this time, so here I am. It will be better when we have everyone back to work at the same time." John said. He knew he needed to get to the admit area and start seeing patients, but it was too nice to just stand there and watch Dave move. He remembered how damned good Dave looked moving around while naked.
The bike went though the door with a final shove. Dave crossed the room to lean the bike against the far wall -- hopefully out of the way. "Chief on today?" Oh God, as Dave got closer to Carter he could feel himself getting hard. This couldn't be happening.
John shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think so. It's her or Kovac. Well, I've got to get out there." John walked past Dave, then stopped as he put his hand on the door. "You're looking real good, Dave." And then he opened the door and walked out of the lounge. Smooth, John, he berated himself. Really smooth. You're half-hard for the guy, he's hard for you and all you can say is that he looks good. Yeah, that will win his love, won't it?
Dave flopped down on the sofa after Carter had left. That was it? What the hell did *looking real good* mean? Had Carter noticed the bulge in his pants? Joking about that? This was just miserable. Dave looked down at the tent in the fabric of his scrubs. "Down boy." There was an entire shift to get through here.
John grabbed the first chart he saw, not caring what the complaint was. All that mattered was getting lost in his work so he wouldn't end up thinking about Dave. Or running into him. Staying out of Dave's way should be easy enough, John thought. Unless we get a trauma or two. And even then, we'll be too busy to really notice each other.
At least that's what John hoped would happen. It wasn't what he wanted to have happen. What he wanted was to be standing there at the admit desk, have Dave leave the lounge, walk over to him, put his arms around him and kiss him passionately in front of everyone. Claim him in public. Claim him for real.
John sighed as he pushed open the door to Exam One. That kind of claiming by Dave would -- could -- never happen. Not now and not in a million years.
*Boy* didn't go down until Dave got the bright idea of imagining Haleh naked, then Dave stood up and put his things into his locker. He wondered if he'd get hard again as soon as he saw Carter -- that would never do. All the same, he imagined Carter standing out by the admit desk, hard too, and waiting for him.
Dave had to think of Haleh again before he left the room.
Carter wasn't by the admit desk, Carter had gone. Dave grabbed a chart and set to work.
As he watched Benton leave with the victim of a drive-by shooting, John mentally congratulated himself on not letting Dave's nearness get to him during the trauma. They had worked side by side and nothing untoward had happened. John pulled off the plastic gown and shoved it into the hazardous waste bin, then peeled off his gloves and tossed them inside as well. "I think he'll live." John said to the room at large as he turned around. Only the room at large consisted of only him and Dave at the moment. John had no idea where Yosh had gone.
And the second he saw Dave standing there, John's body responded. Walking awkwardly, John retrieved his lab coat, hoping to cover up his erection until he could get out of the room.
Dave looked up at Carter. "Yeah." The whole morning and part of the afternoon had gone by with nothing except occasional glimpses of Carter -- far away, in the distance, doing who knew what. Now they were here, in a room, alone together, and all Dave could think to say was *yeah*.
Carter was moving to leave the room, leave like he always left. There was nothing to say but Dave didn't want him to go.
"Hey, after work. How 'bout gettin' a beer?" Dave didn't know where that had come from. He anxiously shut his mouth. It didn't matter if Carter said *no*, it didn't matter at all.
"A beer?" John looked over at Dave. "Just a beer?"
"Yeah, a beer. Nothin' wrong with a beer. Buds have beers all the time." Had he and Carter ever had a beer after work before? Dave couldn't remember. This was a nightmare.
So, just a beer and nothing else. John was tempted to say 'no', but the idea of sitting next to Dave at a bar was just too good to pass up. "Sure. A beer would be good. I've got the Jeep, so we can put your bike in the back when we leave." John checked his watch. "I'm off in about three hours. How about you?"
Dave grinned suddenly. "Seven till seven. Me too." Something was going right. He'd be having a beer with Carter. "Okay. Seven in the lounge?"
John nodded. "Or as close as we can get to seven." Yosh came back into the room then to start the clean-up, so John took the opportunity to leave. There was a spring in his step as he found himself already looking forward to going out somewhere with Dave.
Dave found himself grinning as Carter left the room. A beer with Carter sounded good. Very good.
Shortly afterwards Dave took his midafternoon break, and found himself going to the money machine, to make sure he had enough cash for the beers. Tonight should be good!
The rest of the day passed slowly for John, even though he kept himself busy with patient after patient. And it nearly came to a stop when Weaver asked him to do chart review. John found a desk in an out of the way spot, but keeping his mind on the charts and away from Dave was impossible. It was almost seven when John deposited the charts on the counter. "All done," he said to Kerry. "And I'm almost out of here."
Kerry smiled up at him. "It sounds as if you have a date."
John smiled back. "Not a date, but I do have something planned. What about you?"
Kerry's smile grew broader. "I've got something planned."
"Well, I hope you have fun," John said as he grinned, then headed into the lounge to get out of his lab coat. Could it be possible that Kerry Weaver had a hot date? No one would ever believe that, or if they did, they'd be too surprised to ever say anything. Not that Weaver's love life was anyone's business, just as his own love life didn't concern his co-workers. With the exception of one Dave Malucci, John thought. His love life should concern Dave very much, but Dave didn't love him and only wanted to be friends. So John's love life was being reduced to friendship. After nearly a whole week away from Dave, John was thinking that he could handle friendship with Dave -- if that was all that Dave could offer him. John's feelings of love for Dave could dwindle until they were normal feelings of concern and caring for a good friend and nothing more.
Much to John's disappointment, the lounge was empty when he walked in. Dave's bike was still there, so he hadn't sneaked away without saying anything. Whistling a happy tune, John headed for his locker.
At 7:03 pm Dave sauntered into the lounge. He'd put it off for as long as possible. He didn't want to have to hang around in there waiting. It was much easier to just gossip with Malik and then look at the clock and see it was after the appointed time. Much easier.
When he opened the door, he saw Carter in there. Dave's smile got wider. "Ready to go?"
John closed his locker door. "Ready. Got any particular bar in mind?" John asked. If it was a gay bar, then there was still a chance of sharing more than just a beer with Dave, although John wasn't so sure that having sex with a 'friend' was the best thing to do when you were trying to fall out of love.
Dave shrugged. "Not really." He hadn't thought that far ahead at all. Sorting out that they'd get the beers had seemed enough. "Sometimes go to Sportz Shortz." He more than sometimes went to Sportz Shortz - it was his favourite bar. A bar he went to with his friends. And so it was right that a drink between pals would happen there...Dave tried to encourage the idea. "Got this huge full wall TV - shows hockey games."
"Sportz Shortz?" John asked. "I don't think I've been there." It didn't sound like a gay bar. And the idea of watching hockey games on a full wall TV didn't hold much appeal to him. But sitting there with Dave sure did. "We can try there. Why don't you get your bike and I'll bring the Jeep around to the door."
"Yokay." Dave went to get his bike from against the wall. "See ya soon."
Two minutes later Dave was waiting impatiently on the street outside the ambulance entrance. He looked up thankfully when the red Jeep came past.
John stopped the Jeep then he got out and undid the back window so Dave could put the bike inside. After the window was closed, John said, "Since you know where this place is, I thought you could drive there." And before Dave could argue John got in on the passenger side.
Dave didn't usually drive. He hadn't driven for months. But you never forget -- right? Dave slid into the driver's seat, buckled himself in, and started the car. The Jeep went through three surging bunny-hops before stalling half way down the block. Dave turned away from Carter. "It's cold."
John laughed. "Are you talking about my transmission or your driving skills?"
Dave felt his face get red. "It'll be fine." He graunched the gears angrily as he restarted the engine.
John settled back in the seat, curious as to how long it would take until Dave gave up on trying to drive the Jeep. He didn't think Dave would be able to strip the gears, but if it looked as if the vehicle would come to serious harm, John was prepared to stop him.
Dave cautiously took the vehicle to the lights at the end of the block. Okay, he hadn't got out of first, but he hadn't stalled again either. He smiled at his success as he smoothly applied the brake that slowed them from five miles per hour to a total stop.
Green. Ease off the brake. Going forward now. Clutch and gear stick and second and release the clutch, and yes -- second.
Second! Dave sat up a bit proudly. He was doing okay. Accelerate, and clutch and stick shift and third. That was enough, they got to the next set of lights just as it changed from orange to red. An angry horn honked behind them. Dave turned around to give it the finger.
John felt relieved as the Jeep came to a stop at the light. At the rate they were going, he wasn't sure if they would make it to the bar before it closed. "Been a while since you drove a stick shift, huh?"
Dave half glanced at Carter as he prepared for the light to turn green. Clutch and shift, and first, and cover the brake. "I'm doin' okay."
"You're getting the hang of it, John nodded. Then he grinned. "Though I can see why you prefer to bike it to work."
Dave half-grimaced. He really didn't need Carter making fun of him. Okay, maybe 'okay' was overstating it. But he hadn't stalled again, and that had to count for something. The light changed and Dave accelerated forward, not smoothly, but not too bad either. He smiled in relief, and glanced at Carter in triumph, as they got through the next set of lights still on the green. "Okay."
John laughed as he considered Dave's definition of 'okay'. "Yeah, you're doing okay. How far away is this place?"
"Not far." Dave settled down to the task of driving through the city. It took all his concentration after being carless for so long, but he knew the route, that had to help. There was a shortcut soon here, that took off about 5 blocks of a one-way circuit. Dave carefully remembered to signal and made the turn into the alley.
It was a narrow alley. Plenty wide for a bike, but more problematic for a Jeep. Dave slowed considerably. The light was poor here too, and he had a bit of trouble seeing just where the walls edging the alley were.
John thought he had two choices - he could scream at Dave to stop and take over the driving, or he could close his eyes and pray that Dave didn't hit anything, or scrape the paint off the vehicle. After a quick glance in Dave's direction John decided to trust him and he closed his eyes.
Dave bit his lip. This was much easier on a bike. There was a graunching sound as he ran against a drainpipe; but luckily he didn't seem to have banged into the wall itself.
John's shoulders tensed as he heard the Jeep grate against something solid. 'Please don't let it be bad, please?' he silently prayed. It had been bad enough to lose his last Jeep to looters and fire, and he had really become attached to this one. He didn't want to have to get it repainted. He really didn't. Although a new paint job definitely beat having it set on fire. So John kept his mouth shut, half-afraid that any comments from him might startle Dave and result in more damage to the vehicle.
Dave drove still slower, then was rewarded by seeing the dark grey rectangle that was the street the alley let out onto growing appreciably larger. He stopped before turning, -- with any luck Carter wouldn't have heard that drainpipe -- it had been on the drivers side of the Jeep after all.
Dave suddenly realized that the street the alley lead out onto was one-way the wrong way. It didn't matter on a bike, but maybe it would in a bigger vehicle.
Dave glanced at Carter - who wasn't saying a word - and decided it might be better not to push his luck any further. He turned onto the street, facing the correct direction, and parked. "It's a couple of blocks that way." He gestured behind them.
John felt much better now that Dave had parked the Jeep. "I can handle a couple of blocks," John said as he got out. He looked at the vehicle and noted that the red paint remained unscathed. That meant the scrape, if there was one, would be on the driver's side. John wasn't sure if he should ask Dave if the damage was bad. He quickly decided it didn't matter. If it was, well, there wasn't anything that could be done about it right then.
Dave jumped out of the Jeep, and locked the door. He took a quick peek at the scratch on the door before he joined Carter behind the Jeep. It was scarcely noticeable -- especially in this light. And the Jeep probably had half a hundred other minor injuries. This one should go unnoticed.
Dave started walking -- after all that he *needed* a beer. Still, he didn't think that he'd done too badly for his first driving in a long time. He whistled softly and tossed the keys into his pocket. "This way."
John fell into step beside Dave, suddenly aware of how close they were on the narrow sidewalk. It would be so easy to reach over, grab Dave and pin him to the wall. Then he could kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. But, they were on their way for a beer. Just a beer. Nothing else. In a normal bar. Like they were real friends.
Two blocks later, as they reached the door of "Sportz Shortz", John felt quite proud of himself for managing to keep his hands off of Dave's body. Hell, he had felt proud of himself for keeping his hands off Dave during work. Keeping his hands off Dave on a public street was a piece of cake compared to that.
Dave pushed the door open, looking at Carter. "In here." The main feature in the bar was the much touted TV screen which dominated one wall, and which was currently showing a brawl on an ice-hockey rink. Dave looked around the area appreciatively. It was warm after the cold and snow outside, and there was a comfortable smell that was a mixture of beer and locker-room.
Dave walked up to the bar. "Hey there, Matt. Coupla beers." He pulled out his wallet as the bar keep grabbed two pint glasses and started drawing the beers down.
John followed Dave to the bar, then turned around to look at the place. It looked...manly. It wasn't a full house, but there was a decent sized crowd in there. And the only woman in the place was the waitress who was over at a table near the giant TV screen. She was dressed in shorts so tight that it was obvious she didn't have on any underwear and a tight T-shirt that didn't meet the top of the shorts. If it weren't for the presence of the man behind him, John would have been very interested in the sassy looking blonde. As John heard the bartender talk to Dave, he realized that Dave now had the beers in his hands and he turned back around so he could take his from Dave before they found a table.
Dave took an appreciative slurp of his beer. It was just what he needed after a long shift and a longer week. He looked around and saw an untenanted booth with a good view of the TV screen. "Over here, Carter."
Dave slid into the seat, and took another long and appreciative slurp. "Good beer, ay?"
John took a small sip, then nodded as he sat the beer on the table. "Yeah, it's pretty good." And it was. But John knew it would be the only one he would have, if they stayed then he would switch to pop. Getting drunk wasn't all that much different than getting high and he wanted to avoid anything and everything of that nature.
All of a sudden, John realized that with them not at work and with their clothes on, he didn't know what to say to Dave. Except for a few small details, John knew next to nothing about Dave's life away from County General. And he doubted if Dave knew much about him.
"You must hang out here a lot if the bartender knows you," John said in an effort to make small talk. Maybe finding out about what Dave did when he wasn't at work would lead to Dave opening up about other aspects of his life -- where he grew up, what his family was like, what university he attended before going to medical school in Grenada -- things like that.
"A bit." Dave kept his eyes firmly on the TV screen -- the hockey brawl had gotten much larger -- and the camera was panning around to show groups of supporters fighting too. "Look at that."
Dave settled back, and took another drink of his beer. When he glanced at Carter he saw the man looking pretty nervy -- maybe he didn't usually come to joints like this. And there was the sex thing. The sex thing that had happened last weekend. But Dave didn't want to think about that, he wanted things to be normal. And somehow now, normal should include Carter sitting behind him when he got a beer. Behind? Where the fuck had that thought come from? Beside. Beside him. Dave's glass was only half-empty, but he gestured to the waitress. "Roxanne. Yoo hoo. Over here. More beer." Beer was normal. Roxanne was normal. And there was no reason that Carter sitting astr -- across from -- him couldn't be normal too.
John waited until the waitress had left. Figured that she'd be another Roxanne, he thought, although she didn't look as if she had much in common with his ex-girlfriend. This one had more hip and a lot more bust. He glanced up at the game. He had never played hockey. Didn't much care for it as a sport. But he remembered Dave asking for someone to volunteer to be on his team. "So, how's your hockey team doing? The one you had Mark playing on that one time?"
Dave grinned. "Our punch ups aren't as good as that one. You play?"
John laughed. "Sorry. No. I do basketball and a little softball, but back when I was in school I wrestled and ran track. Did dressage," John explained. "Did you play on a hockey team back when you were in high school or did you wait until you were in college to play?" Even as John asked about ice hockey, he found himself thinking about how wonderful it would be to wrestle with Dave. A naked Dave. Covered in oil. He looked down at the table and took another sip of the beer in an effort to get his mind away from sex.
"Boarding school? You went to a boarding school?" Dave shook his head, and took another drink of his beer. "Played hockey, some way, since I could skate. No sense doin' nothing being on ice."
"I like ice skating, but I don't get to do it much. I went to regular school until I was about twelve and then I went to boarding school. Some stupid family tradition that was supposed to help me become an independent person. It's only about an hour's drive away from here, although at the rate my parents visited me, you'd think it was a hundred hours." John took another drink of the beer and shrugged. "It wasn't so bad. I could keep my horse there and I still got to come home every weekend."
"Your HORSE?" Okay, so Dave knew that Carter was rich. He'd been at that mansion last weekend hadn't he? He'd swum in that pool. And been fucked beside that Jacuzzi, and in that huge shower, and...there was the four poster bed, and the huge kitchen, and the driveway so long that he hadn't managed to get out of it. Dave looked up at Carter -- the memories of last weekend flickering in front of his eyes. He suddenly didn't know what he was doing here with Carter. This place was real, it wasn't some millionaire's mansion - real people came here, and did things here. It wasn't some play, make-believe place.
John smiled and nodded as he thought about Marigold. "Yeah. Marigold. He was a Thoroughbred. We won 18 ribbons one year. Most people don't know what I'm talking about when I say 'dressage', but when they see it, they recognize it. It's not easy to describe, but it does look good." John said. "When I was in...Atlanta, we had a trip out to a stable that had riding trails. It felt good to be on a horse again. I hadn't realized until then just how much I missed riding. And Marigold."
Dave downed the rest of his beer, and looked around for Roxanne to bring him his second. This was weird, Carter was making it sound like horses were real -- as real as ice-hockey. He shrugged, "Skating's cool. Ever been out on a lake, not just a rink?" On the TV screen, the brawl had finished and instead it seemed to be showing classic tackles of football, Dave was assailed by a vision of Carter pulling him down like that, rolling on top of him. He shouldn't be thinking like that -- this was a normal bar, with normal people.
"There's a small lake at my grandparents place. It freezes over enough for skating. When we were kids, my brother, sister and cousins and I would stay out there for hours on end. Gamma would finally send someone out to make us come into the house where she would have cocoa ready for us by the fire. We'd be huddled around the hearth, shivering as we tried to get warm." John's happy childhood memory quickly morphed into a memory of him in bed beside a shivering Dave, trying his best to get Dave warm. He pushed that image aside. "What about you? Where did you skate?"
"There's a little lake-pond thing in Central Park. And on a rink for school." Dave flashed a grin at Carter. "Nothing like a *private* lake though." Luckily Roxanne came with Dave's beer just then, and he was able to grab it before he started to stare into those eyes. It was stupid of him to still be looking at Carter like this. He'd fucked him last weekend. Everything should be back to normal now, he should be looking at women again -- not still at Carter.
Dave was aware that he was beginning to get hard again. This drink wasn't supposed to work out like this. He wasn't entirely sure how it was that it was supposed to turn out. But he was sure it wasn't supposed to be like this.
Dave picked up his beer from the table, and slopped a quantity of it onto the table in his agitation.
John grabbed a napkin from the dispenser and tossed it in Dave's direction. "If you're like this after only *one* beer, then maybe I shouldn't let you have two," he said. He grinned at Dave, then slid out of the booth. "I'll be right back. Which way's the men's room?"
"Round that way." Dave gestured behind the curve of the bar.
John nodded, then headed in that direction. While Carter was gone Dave watched Roxanne's ass. It didn't seem as pinchable as it usually did. He hadn't even tried when she brought him his beer. Why hadn't he? Dave wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. He just wanted to watch the sports and be normal. Classic tackles football *should* be safe, there weren't many things more manly than football. And there was nothing wrong with hugging your teammates after a goal. God -- if the guys on his hockey team knew what he'd let Carter do to him last weekend they'd never let him play with them again.
When Roxanne came close enough, Dave pinched her ass just to prove he could.