A sound came again. Someone was knocking on his door. Suddenly Dave's heart began to thump absurdly loudly in his chest.
He got up and pulled his robe on, telling himself it could be anyone. Someone could be wanting to borrow something. The building could be on fire. It didn't need to be Carter. Carter hadn't even said he'd be over tonight. There was no reason to expect him. He'd known there was no reason to expect him all evening. Just answer the damn door. And don't think about it.
Dave pulled the door open.
John was just about to leave, certain that Dave was either not at home or so deeply asleep he couldn't hear the knocking, and John wasn't going to knock louder And then the door opened and Dave stood there, darkness looming behind him as the light from the hallway shone on his face. "Hey," John said, his voice a little hoarse from his earlier bouts with crying and spilling his guts. "Mind if I come in?"
Dave stepped back. "Um, sure." It was Carter. Carter had come. The light coming in from the hallway was blinding to Dave's dark adjusted eyes, but he'd have known that silhouette anywhere. Carter had come.
John stepped into the dark entryway. "You were asleep, weren't you? I can go if you're not up to company right now." But John didn't want to go. He just wanted to collapse into Dave's arms.
"Uh, yeah. It's okay though." Dave shrugged in the darkness. "You okay?" Carter's voice didn't sound okay. "Guess the Chief started your restrictions again, huh?"
"Uh, yeah," John said. He shrugged out of his coat as he walked the rest of the way into Dave's living room. "They were actually better than I had expected. I'm not headed to Atlanta again, so that's something." John stood there, suddenly unsure of what to do with his coat, as if he'd never been there before. He took another step forward and cracked his shinbone against Dave's coffee table. "Shit!" Hopping on one leg, John fell onto the couch, grabbing his leg with both hands, his coat forgotten as it lay across his lap.
"What? Good 'bout Atlanta." Dave walked toward the sofa where he heard Carter's voice coming from.
His leg still in pain, John nodded. "Yeah. Some day we had, huh? Seemed like every time I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did."
Dave's eyes were slowly, if sleepily, becoming accustomed to this level of light. He hadn't pulled the drapes this evening, and the street lights a floor or so below cast a pale light on the ceiling. "Yeah, they just kept on coming. And half of them couldn't even talk to the docs." Dave reached out for the corner of his sofa, and found instead Carter's shoulder.
Dave's hand felt warm and comforting on John's shoulder and he hoped that Dave would leave it there for a bit. A lot of people had put comforting hands on John during the NA meeting, but none of those hands had felt quite like Dave's. John took a deep breath and finally lowered his knee, the pain in his shin now a dull throb. "Good thing you speak Spanish isn't it?"
"Yeah." He hadn't been enough though, and Chuny hadn't been enough, and...there hadn't been enough to go around, just like there hadn't been enough docs to go around, and even if there had been some would still have died, their injuries too severe. Dave pivoted around the sofa -- images of today flashing in front of his eyes. He intended to also sit on the sofa, but misjudged the distance and found himself falling over Carter's legs.
The minute John felt Dave's body against his legs he knew that Dave wasn't trying to step over them. He reached out, not able to see the details of Dave's body as his arms wrapped around it. It was enough that he was able to stop Dave from falling to the floor. He ended up with Dave half on and half off of his lap, the bathrobe covering John's legs. And one of John's hands was touching bare skin and he remembered that Dave slept naked. But he hadn't come to Dave so he could touch his skin. He had come because he just needed to be with Dave. To hear his voice. To be held.
Dave let out an "Ummph" of surprise as he fell. But Carter seemed to have grasped hold of him, and he wasn't falling any further. It seemed safe, at least temporarily. Dave felt around for a bit of sofa to hold on to as he extracted himself from this mess. "Why...?" He let his voice trail off, maybe he didn't want to know why Carter had come around so late -- or at least not until he'd had a drink.
As soon as he knew Dave was safe, John jerked his hand away from Dave's body, not wanting him to even begin to think that he had come there for *that*. "Sorry. You okay?"
"Yeah, fine." Dave pulled his legs over Carter until he was more or less all together. This seemed to be weird. Dave looked where he knew Carter's face had to be but saw only shadows and darkness.
"I..." John wasn't sure what to say. He knew what he wanted, but he had no idea what would happen when he asked. Still, it was why he had come. "Cou...would you just hold me?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper and yet it seemed to echo in the dark room.
"Uh?" Definitely weird. "Want a drink or anything?" Maybe after a drink this would all make sense. But he couldn't help but remember how Carter's hands had felt as they encircled him in the darkness.
"No," John said, realizing he had made a big mistake in coming over. Clutching his coat in his hands, he started to get to his feet. "I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry."
What? Something was going very wrong here, and Dave didn't have a clue how to set it right. "Carter?"
"You're probably tired after today and I..." John ran out of things to say as he stood there, but for some reason his feet wouldn't take him in the direction in which he knew the door lay. He looked through the darkness, making out Dave's form on the couch, looking up at him. His eyes were used to the darkness now and he could make out body parts, but not the smaller details. And he didn't want to go, but Dave didn't want him there or didn't want to hold him or something like that. John didn't blame Dave much for that. They had endured a rough day and were both expected at work early in the morning. "You need to get some sleep and I should get home," he said. But he still didn't move to leave.
"Don't go." Dave didn't know what else to say. Everything in the last few minutes had been so unexpected. He stood and repeated, "Don't go."
They were standing so close to each other that John could feel the heat emanating from Dave's body and Dave's words created a lump in his throat. "Hold me?" he asked again. "Please just hold me?"
Dave reached out and touched Carter's arm with one tentative hand. He didn't know what was happening here, or why Carter had suddenly arrived. He thought of something else to say though. "The shift ended hours ago."
Dave's touch seared through the material of John's suit jacket and then his shirt. But the touch was an invitation and John stepped into Dave's embrace, resting his head on Dave's shoulder and wrapping his arms around Dave's waist. It was a million light years away from when Benton had held him after the intervention and yet there was something strangely similar in the position. In the need to be comforted. "Seems like a million years ago, doesn't it?"
"Yeah." The evening had seemed a million years long in the empty apartment. The clock had ticked each passing minute very loudly. Dave tentatively put his other arm about Carter. It was okay to hug guys undrunk -- it happened after games all the time. With that reassuring thought he tightened his arms about Carter a bit. The hours between the end of the shift and now had seemed very, very long.
When John felt Dave's arms tighten around him he relaxed against Dave's body. The bathrobe was still open and John could feel every curve and plane of Dave's body, but he was too emotionally wrung out for his own body to respond. As they stood there, John remembered that he had told Dave the night before that he'd tell him today -- yesterday -- whenever it was, that he'd tell him what was going on with Chase. But it wasn't an easy story, or a pretty one and Dave hadn't asked again, so John decided it was something that could be put off. But there was something that needed to be said. "Tonight I told my cousin that I thought about getting high every morning when I woke up and then every night before I fell asleep. That not a day goes by when I don't think about it. I lied to him, Dave, because I've come to notice that I never think about it when I'm with you." John tightened his arms around Dave and raised his head up, looking into Dave's eyes, eyes that were cloaked by the night. "I love you," John whispered, even though he knew Dave didn't want to hear that.
John slowly pulled away. "I could use something to drink. Juice or water. Something like that. My throat is a little sore from tonight."
Dave backed away from Carter. "Sure." Why did Carter have to bring that *L* word into it again? What did it mean anyway? Dave headed toward the kitchen and took a slug of his whiskey from the bottle before opening up the fridge and staring into it, unseeing despite its muted light. Not fair. Carter wasn't playing fair. Still he grabbed himself a bottle of beer, and opened it, taking a few mouthfuls before reaching for the jug of water that he'd begun to keep in there, and getting a glass to pour it into.
When Dave walked away John went over to the window, looking out into the city. Dave's window wasn't as high as the roof at County, but it was still a muted view of Chicago. There were people out on the street, walking in pairs and groups. People driving down the street. For some reason John found himself wondering if one of those cars belonged to Dave's friend, Jimbo. Maybe he was coming home from work after a long day at the station. Or from a bar. Maybe he was noticing the Jeep out in front of Dave's building and wondering why John was there. He turned around and rested against the window sill, trying to shut down those thoughts. They were just there to distract him from everything else. But John remembered how upset and hurt his grandparents had been when they discovered he had known about Chase's addiction and had never said anything and he knew that when -- there was no 'if' about it -- Dave found out about Jimbo that he would be upset with John as well for keeping that a secret.
Dave trotted out to the living room, water glass in one hand and beer bottle in the other. "Here." It was safe, he even managed a half grin at Carter. Whatever happened tonight from now on was not his responsibility, he was in the clear. He took another drink out of the cold bottle, and suppressed an involuntary shiver.
John walked over to Dave and took the glass of water. It felt soothing to his throat. "Thanks." He grinned as he looked in the direction of the couch. "Think we can manage to sit down without trying to hurt ourselves this time?"
"Sure, or..." Dave managed a casual shrug. "Bedroom's warmer."
Dave's comment made John think that Dave was getting cold standing there in an open robe with nothing on under it. "I didn't come here just so I could end up in your bed. I want you to know that. Hell, right now I don't even think I could get it up. It's been a Hell of a night for me and I'm wrung out, so...so, if you want to go in there just because it's warmer, then that's okay. But I didn't expect that." He wished it were a little lighter so he could see Dave's eyes and maybe be able to tell if what he was saying was upsetting to him. But it seemed to John that there were other times when Dave had been upset over thinking that John had been expecting sex and he didn't want Dave to get the wrong idea this time.
Dave shrugged, and kept his eyes fixed out the window. He didn't know what he'd expected Carter to say, but.... "Up to you."
"Then we'll go on in. No need for you to freeze out here." He waited for Dave to lead the way.
Dave headed for his bedroom, and immediately slipped under the covers without even bothering to take his robe off first. As he hit his previously warmed spot he let out an automatic shiver -- and felt his muscles begin to relax in the warmth. This was good, and somewhere in the darkness even greater than that in the living room, as he *had* drawn the drapes in here, was Carter living and breathing and walking. Dave smiled.
John walked into the bedroom, once more blinded by darkness. He knew he should have stopped in the doorway to get his bearings. He really did know that. But he didn't. And he walked into Dave's chest of drawers, hitting his other shin in the process. "Damn," he muttered, and his maneuverings to get away from anything dangerous brought him in contact with the bed. Only it was the back of his legs that made contact, and he dropped the glass of water to the floor as he fell backwards. He waited for the unmistakable sound of glass shattering, but that didn't come and he realized the glass had most likely landed on one of the area rugs on the floor by the bed.
Dave wiggled down as he felt Carter thump onto the bed. The bed itself gave out an ominous creak -- he'd really have to look into sorting the crack out soon. "Better isn't it?" He reached an arm out from under the blankets, and probed the air about him, to see if Carter was within reach yet.
"Um, as long as you stay in the bed. I dropped the glass of water, so I'm sure your rug is soaking wet. I can go get a towel and clean it up." John turned in the direction of Dave's voice. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm so clumsy tonight."
"What?" Dave blinked in the darkness. "Don't worry. Water dries."
"Yeah, but..." Dave did have hardwood floors under those rugs. Old hardwood floors, but wood nonetheless. Still, if he wasn't going to worry about water damage, then John certainly wouldn't. He stood and began to remove his suit jacket. He pushed the rug aside with his shoe, then slipped his shoes off, then crawled over the bed to the other side so he could get under the covers.
Now that Carter was here, Dave was beginning to really want his touch. To be able to sleep within those arms like he had the last few nights. He was drunk so he was allowed to want it, and he did want it. Still, thinking about that, however briefly, reminded him of the way that Carter had arrived. "You okay, big fella?"
"I'll be okay. I just had an emotionally draining day and night, that's all. It started off bad and ended okay enough. But it was still hard."
"mmm" Dave wiggled regretfully out of his warm patch and over to where Carter was, and began to interweave his arms with Carter's. The shirt was annoying, but having the warm body there to lie against was more important than worrying about buttons. "It ended okay?"
"It ended with me here, so I'd say that's pretty okay," John replied as he wrapped his arms around Dave's warm body. He was acutely aware that Dave hadn't asked him to stay overnight, which was why he hadn't disrobed, but John didn't see why he couldn't enjoy the two of them being together. "Up to this point though, it pretty much sucked."
Having Carter to hold on to in the darkness was wonderful. His voice rumbled out of his chest as well as his mouth so Dave felt as well as heard it. Dave shut his eyes, if he thought about it at all, his cock would come to attention quick smart, that would be good. But maybe later. Right now just holding onto another body -- more particularly Carter's body, was spectacular in its own right. "Weaver was hard assed?" Dave shut his eyes, then opened them again. "You said something bout a cousin?"
"Weaver was pretty cool. Like I said, the new, or rather, old restrictions aren't so bad. Same as before but for another ninety days. If I relapse again then I'm fired." He shrugged as best he could while lying down with Dave snuggled next to him. "I can live with that because I have no intention of relapsing again. But my cousin..." John sighed. "Chase is a long story. Sure you feel up to hearing it?"
Dave was warm and sleepy and just drunk enough that he was allowed to be happy. He snuggled closer, idly wishing for a hand to caress his butt or back or maybe even to start making suggestive movements, but being just a little too sleepy and content to initiate any such movements himself. "Got a Reader's Digest version?"
John chuckled. "I'll give it my best shot." He thought about it for a few moments, then began. "Chase is...was, a photographer and artist. But Grandfather wanted an 'heir' to be groomed to take over the business. I became a doctor, so that left Chase, for reasons too numerous to go into as to why none of our other cousins were suitable. But Chase didn't want that. Problem was, Chase didn't have the nerve to stand up to Grandpa, so he ended up turning to drugs to...feel better, I guess, or to numb his personal pain. I found out about it accidentally. He assured me he had it under control, that it was just recreational use. It was heroin and I should have known better, but I let myself believe him. Then he came to me asking for me to detox him. I turned him down and instead got pamphlets for various rehab centers. My mistake with that was giving him a choice. They didn't give me a choice and I should have never given Chase a choice." John sighed, remembering that time all too clearly with Anna always present in his thoughts and how scared he was for Chase.
Dave wiggled, and clenched his eyes shut. He hadn't expected this. Back home he'd seen people...he didn't want to think about it at all. He mumbled, "People don't get better if they don't want to." Then shut up.
"I know," John said, then he continued. "I gave in though. Went to his place with what I thought he'd need to get through detox. Anna showed up to help and she brought stuff. Together we got him through it. I thought he'd be fine, I really did. When I saw him after then, he seemed fine. And then...one evening the EMT's brought in a bunch of junkies who had been shooting up some new and deadly batch of heroin. I was working on one of them when Anna called me into the trauma room. It was Chase." John shook his head. "They kept telling me that he'd been down for twenty minutes, maybe longer, but I didn't give up, Dave. I kept at him, determined that my cousin wasn't going to die. And he didn't die. he lived. If you can call his days living. He was brain damaged, but he's gotten better over the years. Gamma and Grandpa blamed me for what had happened, saying I had no right to keep Chase's addiction a secret from them. When his parents finally arrived here from Singapore they just looked through me. Not that I blamed them. It *was* my fault. If he had been any other patient...I would have let him go, you know? But he was my cousin, the guy I had played with when we were kids. Tried to pick up girls with when we were teenagers and I couldn't let him go. Anyway, over the years there's been a bunch of stuff, me losing my trust fund, partially over Chase. Gamma and Grandpa basically keeping their distance until last February. I hadn't been to see Chase since that Christmas, before the stabbing. At first I didn't want to go because I was in too much pain, and then it was because I was afraid he'd know I was high. And then there was Atlanta...and once back from there I felt guilty. You see, I had felt so superior to him. *He* was a drug addict. A junkie. A user. Me? Well, I had a valid reason to take drugs. Or so I kept telling myself. I told myself that in Atlanta and I've been telling myself that ever since I got back. But I quit telling myself that tonight. And I have Chase to thank for that."
Dave was silent. There was a lot that Carter had just said, and his brain wasn't firing on all cylinders. "Oh," Dave settled for something easy to ask. "You went to see him today?"
"Yeah. He's at the Kenner Institute. Been there ever since I turned him into a partial vegetable. Anyway, they called because he'd quit eating. The nurse thought maybe he was just lonely. His folks are like mine, they travel a lot, but I know that when they're here, they see him. But he was angry that I hadn't been to see him in such a long time. Just about kicked me out of his room. And then at work, when I was ready to leave, I found out that Benton knew about the relapse. God, he was so cold to me. He hasn't been that cold to me since I quit surgery for the ER." John shook his head. "I tried to convince him it was nothing. All the same shit I was telling you and Abby. But as I left I knew then that it wasn't true. So, I went to see Chase again, and I told him all about it and finally admitted that I'm just like him." John laughed. "Just like him and all the other junkies that walk through the doors or the ER, or come in on gurneys. But, Chase listened and then he ate and we talked. And...well, you know that I can go to NA or AA meetings, right?" John continued, not really expecting a response from Dave, "Well, the last time I went to a NA meeting was in Atlanta and they made me go to it. I went to one tonight. And I got up there and started talking and didn't stop. You always say I talk too much and tonight proved it. Hell, I think the meeting ran over because of me." John ran his hand up and down Dave's side. "But you know what? I think I'm going to be all right. For the first time since before I was stabbed I really think I'm going to be all right." John smiled into the darkness, then he chuckled. "Bet you're glad you asked for the condensed version, aren't you?"
Dave chuckled. "Yeah. Never got that though. Why do people who aren't going to be tested on a book want the Cliff notes for it? But..." Dave paused for a second, then went on "You mad at Chase for gettin' himself locked up in that shithole?"
"Sometimes. There were days when I was in Atlanta that I sat there and cussed him out. I could do it, rehab, I mean, he could have done it, too. And there were days when I sat there and cussed out everyone at County for making me go there. Mostly though I get angry with Anna for calling me into that trauma room. If she hadn't...well, she or Mark or one of the others wouldn't have kept working on him. Wouldn't have made him live. But, at least he's not a babbling gork, so it could be worse."
Dave's barely listened to Carter's last statement as his mind was irresistibly drawn to Mike. How he'd sat and sweated through the trial. How the prosecuting bitch had said that Mike's punishment should be worse because Dave himself was a doctor. The way he'd been led away afterwards with one panicky backwards look, as if he'd just begun to really believe it was going to happen. How there wasn't one fucking thing Dave could do to help him. How, when they were kids and hungry Mike had got him food. And when there was fighting Mike had got them out of the apartment. And.... "The other stuff...it doesn't stop counting just because he's locked up."
John frowned, wondering why Dave kept talking as if Chase was behind bars or something. "He's not locked up. It's just that he can't live on his own. Not physically anyway."
Dave half shrugged. "Sounds as good as jail. Can't do what he wants when he wants to, 'n all that."
When Dave mentioned jail, John began to think that Dave was maybe thinking of his own brother. "Guess so. Do you ever get angry with Mike for getting himself put away?"
Dave half shrugged again. "Yeah. A bit. He's a real good guy. The best. An' he's just stuck there for years. Waste." Dave burrowed his head into Carter's shirt.
"Yeah. Seems a shame. Two great guys who wasted their lives away. Grandmother, my Mom's mother, told me once not long after Chase's overdose that you can't help people who don't want to be helped. It took me a while to realize how right she was about that." John sighed. "Hey, enough of this sad shit, I think we've both had quite enough of that, don't you?"
Dave twisted his head. "Yeah. You 'kay now?"
"Yeah, I am. You?"
"Yeah." It felt good in an odd way, that Carter might understand about Mike a little. He hadn't really seemed to before. But this cousin sounded just like Mike on heroin not cars. Same difference. "Yeah." Dave kissed the bit of shirt in front of him. "Yeah I am."
John felt the kiss through his shirt and he smiled. This seemed to be a good time to ask about the charity ball. "Um, I wanted to ask you this the other night, but never got around to it. Every year my grandparents host a charity ball at the Children's Museum. As I was leaving the other night to come over here to help you celebrate your excellent eval, Grandpa told me that I could invite you to come." John skimmed his hand over Dave's back, "So...do you want to go with me?"
"Mmm sure. That's good." Dave tightened his arms around Carter as he felt his back being touched -- then wiggled a little to dislodge the robe so that Carter could touch his flesh more easily. Here in this little cocoon of warmth and darkness he couldn't quite imagine ever wanting to let go of Carter. "Is it fancy dress?"
"Yep. I can help you get a tux. Unfortunately, I happen to own one. That's awful to say, isn't it?" John asked as he found himself suddenly able to reach *all* of Dave's skin and he took advantage of that by caressing any body part of Dave's that he could reach and feeling slightly frustrated that his cock wasn't responding. But he could still make love to Dave. "I still can't do anything, but I'm more than willing to do something for you," John offered. "Your choice?"
"Do something?" Dave's mind was blank about what Carter could do if he wasn't hard. But the guy seemed to know everything. Everything about making Dave feel good.
"Yeah," John said as he slipped his hand between their bodies, seeking out Dave's cock. "I could suck you off, you like that. I could give you the best hand job you've ever had. Or you can fuck me. That is, if you want me to stay until the morning."
Dave didn't want to move. He liked cuddling face to face. He liked it a lot. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to get any harder than the half-mast he was already at -- the cuddling was just too nice. That was weird and worrisome. Dave didn't know what was happening to him. He wiggled a little way up Carter's body to try and catch his mouth in a kiss, then quietly whispered, half ashamed of himself for wanting nothing more, "I like it like this."
John brought his hands up to cup Dave's face and he kissed him, lingering there slightly. "This is good. There's nothing wrong with this. Although I think I might like it a bit better if we were skin to skin." John smiled, then frowned. "You do know that me not being able to get it up isn't because of you? I'm just tired, drained, all of the above. I wish like Hell I could get it up for you. But, yeah, I can handle this. So, undress me already so we can both enjoy it more." John kissed Dave again to punctuate his words, then let his hands drop from Dave's face as he waited to be stripped.
Dave started to work on Carter's buttons. All he had to go by was feeling since the room was dark, and the covers obscured his non-existent view anyway. Carter's shirt seemed to be a fine cotton -- still crisp after all these hours. And the buttons were small, round and hard. Unbuttoning them was surprisingly difficult -- everything happened on the wrong side. But it was worth it to unwrap Carter -- Dave's hands worked steadily lower.
John was tempted to help Dave, but for some reason it had become important to him that Dave be the one to undress him. To show him that he really did want him to stay. The only concession John made was to raise his hips slightly so that Dave could pull the shirt out from the waistband of his pants.
Carter's chest was smooth as it always was under Dave's hands. Almost unbelievably smooth. He ran his hands across the hairless surface. "It just comes out like this -- you don't wax it or anything?" He pushed the shirt off Carter's shoulders -- taking the suspenders with it.
"Yeah, just born this way. Why? You don't like it?" John's mind was racing as he tried to think of some way to chemically get hair on his chest.
Dave shook his head. "nah. It's just strange. No hair at all." He lowered his hands to the waistband of Carter's trousers and found the button and fly. He undid them, and began pushing the trousers down. "You got hair here though."
John laughed. "I *am* a normal male. But, if you'd like, I can shave that off, then I'll be all smooth. Well, mostly all smooth. I won't shave my underarms for you, or my legs." John was then serious. "I'd do just about anything for you, Dave."
Dave chuckled. "Be damn prickly growing back." He didn't want Carter smooth or hairier or any different than he was. It was just odd -- not being able to see him, only feel him and smell him and hear him. Different things seemed to come to his attention. When Dave ha