"Sure, that's fine." The cold air outside had a steadying effect on Dave's nerves -- whatever had happened in there, he'd just imagined it. "Could walk from here."
John shook his head. "I brought you here, I'll take you home, too." The ride to Dave's was quick -- too quick. And after he dropped Dave off, John found himself looking in the rear view mirror as he drove off -- so he could watch Dave walk into his building. Nearly hit another car in the process, but it was worth it. John felt very conflicted. He wanted to be Dave's friend, *if* that was all Dave would offer him. But was it? Dave wasn't the one who had pushed him away last weekend. He had been the one to push Dave away, to turn down Dave's last advances because he wanted Dave to be in love with him. That had been stupid. Yet, John wanted Dave to feel something for him besides friendship. So maybe it wasn't so stupid after all. But his body -- John's body wanted Dave. Craved the man, even. If Dave were willing, would it be so wrong to have lots of wild sex? Maybe that would get Dave out of his system, John thought. He had taken all week to decide that he could handle friendship and seeing Dave two days in a row had blown that decision out of the water. What John couldn't quite figure out was if it were a good thing or a bad thing.
Coffee and breakfast had woken Dave up thoroughly. If he went back to bed now he was very sure that he wouldn't end up sleeping. Not until he'd done something else anyway. Dave glanced down, but his hard-on couldn't be seen through the jersey. He needed to think, or maybe not to think. Dave scrambled upstairs to get his bike, and go for a really long, long ride.
**********************************************************
Dave had intended to take a nap in the afternoon after his ride. He'd even taken a shower and gone to bed. He hadn't managed to sleep though. He'd done a night shift and exercised, but he couldn't sleep. And he couldn't sleep because he was thinking about Carter and the movie tonight, and breakfast, and Carter refusing to touch him Friday night (which in retrospect he had to be grateful for), and everything they'd done the last weekend, and Carter's eyes, and Carter's ass, and Carter's smile, and that he was going to a movie with Carter tonight.
He couldn't sleep, and he didn't want to jerk off. Dave reluctantly got out of bed and began tidying the apartment -- it was a way to spend his nervous energy. And if Carter came up here after the movie -- just for a drink, nothing weird -- then maybe he wouldn't think him a slob.
He tidied the kitchen and lifted the paper out of his cutlery drawer to get rid of all the little bits that had accumulated in there -- dried peas and strands of hard spaghetti. He tidied the living room and the blanket on the back of the sofa was square and straight. He even got the broom out, and swept both floors -- then greatly daring went through to his bedroom. Not that Carter would see the bedroom but if he was tidying he might as well do that, too. He put his clothes into drawers and some of them even onto hangers, and clean sheets on the bed, and the duvet all square and beautiful on top. And the bathroom -- he cleaned the shower and vanity top and even the toilet, and hung fresh towels up. No reason a guy couldn't have a clean bathroom, even if no-one was going to stay over. No reason at all.
Then he had a huge pile of laundry, so he went downstairs and did that and came home. Then it was time for dinner -- and after he'd cooked that -- leaving plenty over just in case he got hungry later for any reason -- then the game was on TV, and he watched it -- cheering on the Giants -- and thinking about Carter watching it, and seeing his cash float away at work. And then there was still spare time before the movie so he put everything he'd washed away.
The apartment looked immaculate. It gleamed. Dave paced through it, too impatient to sit down. Maybe he should have exercised harder this afternoon -- yeah that must be the problem.
John sighed as he stepped out of the elevator and made his way down the hallway to Dave's apartment. It had been a rough day. He'd been vomited on, bled on, peed on, then vomited on yet again. He had gone through one set of green scrubs, then his extra clothes, then another set of scrubs. Now he was fully dressed in dark blue surgical scrubs and his cashmere coat -- that was a jarring combination -- but there was no time to go to home to change and then make it to the movie on time. As it was, he and Dave only had about twenty minutes to drive to the movie theater, purchase their tickets and find seats.
John rang the bell, then rested his hand against the jamb as he waited for Dave to answer. Hopefully Dave would be ready to walk out and they wouldn't have to waste time inside of Dave's place while he looked for his coat and stuff. It also occurred to John that staying out in the hallway if Dave wasn't ready would be a good thing to do as it would keep him from being distracted by things like Dave's body and the proximity of Dave's bedroom.
Dave jumped at the sound of the doorbell. This had to be it. Suddenly he couldn't believe how much time he'd wasted today -- he wished he had the whole afternoon ahead of him again. He sauntered to the door, and opened it. "Oh hi, Carter. It's you."
John laughed. "Just who else were you expecting at twenty minutes after midnight? You ready to go?"
Dave shrugged. "Just get my jacket." It was further away than usual -- hung up in a closet and not thrown over the back of the sofa, but Dave had it in a flash. "Ready?"
John stepped away from the open door. Despite his worries about being distracted, he had been tempted to follow Dave into the apartment but had held back. Especially since Dave hadn't been all that enthused to see him. "Yeah. Hey, if you're tired or something...well, we don't *have* to go to the movie tonight."
Dave shrugged. "It's okay. That coffee this morning musta wired me or somethin', haven't slept. Let's go."
They made good time getting to the movie and ended up seated in a nearly empty theater -- only seven other people that John could see -- by the time the previews started. John propped his feet up on the back of the seat in front of him and held out the popcorn toward Dave. "Want some?"
Dave grabbed a handful, "Sure" as he brought it out of the carton his hand grazed Carter's, and he suddenly became hyperaware of the body of the man sitting next to him.
John tried to ignore the way that Dave's hand had touched his -- Dave felt warm and John really wanted to pull that hand over to his mouth and slowly lick the salt and butter from each and every finger. Bad thought, he chided himself, very bad thought.
John settled the bag between his legs then took a sip of his soda before putting it in the cup holder. "If you want any more popcorn, just help yourself," he told Dave.
Dave grinned, and chucked a chocolate raisin into his mouth. "Ya owe me big time, my friend. The Giants slaughtered Philly. Tore the wings right off of the Eagles."
"Okay." John raised up on his right hip a bit so he could reach his wallet, which was in his left back pocket, forgetting again that he was wearing scrub pants and those had no pockets for things like wallets. "Hold on." John reached over to the seat to his left and pulled his wallet out of an inside coat pocket, then withdrew a fifty dollar bill before putting the wallet back. He handed the money to Dave. "There you go. So, you willing to place a bet for next week, too?"
Dave took the bill eagerly -- relishing as much the second he touched Carter's hand as the money itself. "Sure am, my friend. The Viking's will be kicked back to their ice age."
John laughed. "In your dreams, Malucci, in your dreams. But, you've got a bed...I mean, bet."
Dave grinned. "Fifty AND a shift's scut work."
John grinned. "You've got it. Fifty and scut work. So, be prepared to work next Monday."
Dave grinned, "In your dreams, my friend. You are going to be scrubbing bedpans."
But then the house lights dimmed further, and Dave sat back for the movie itself
John quieted down as the last preview ended and the movie began. It was difficult to keep his attention on the movie as he was tired from the hard day in the ER, and more than once he found himself jerking his head upright as he nodded off. When that happened he would take a long drink of his soda and grab another handful of popcorn -- but much to his disappointment there were no more accidental touches.
Dave watched in silence, the fractured narrative of the movie kept on getting more fractured until he put his head back against the seat and shut his eyes -- the long day catching up with him.
The next thing John knew, a bright light was stinging his eyelids. His head jerked back as his mind remembered the way it had hurt when Deb had shone a penlight into his eyes the previous February. "What?"
"The movie's over, sir. You have to leave now."
John blinked hard as the beam of the flashlight moved from his face to Dave's. The usher was right -- the movie was over. Long over in fact, as the credits had stopped rolling and the screen was blank.
John gathered his trash and his coat, then waited for Dave to fully wake up.
Dave blinked twice, and rapidly orientated himself. Oh yeah, he'd been at a movie -- with Carter. Dave hastily stood, and swayed slightly. "Great flick Carter, good choice."
"Yeah, wish I could have stayed awake long enough to enjoy it," John said with a chuckle. "I really need some coffee before trying to drive home though. Do you mind if I stop off somewhere?"
"No. Where? Whatever." Dave started clumsily putting his jacket on. "That's cool."
"Anywhere. First place I see, I guess." As they exited the row, John asked the usher, "Do they still have the concession stand open?"
The teenager shook his head. "Sorry, but there's a diner about two blocks down and they're still open."
John smiled at him. "Thanks." He turned to Dave. "How about we go to the diner and grab some coffee? Decaf for you, I think, or else you won't get any sleep at all tonight."
Dave shrugged and yawned. It seemed that Carter had interrupted his sleep twice in one day. "'kay."
John pulled on his coat and they left the theater. The icy outside air woke him up quite a bit and there were more than a few snowflakes swirling around. It didn't take long to reach the diner and John went to the counter and quickly ordered a cup of coffee, then stood aside so Dave could order something if he wished.
"Um chocolate." Dave's mind still wasn't functioning on all cylinders. After a second he added. "With marshmallows, and a cookie."
John nodded, then turned to the waitress. "That'll be it." He handed her a ten dollar bill then sat down on a stool while waiting for her to get their drinks and Dave's cookie.
"So, did you manage to see *any* of the movie?" John asked with a grin. He couldn't really remember much of anything -- except how good Benicio Del Toro had looked in the few scenes he remembered seeing him in. Dark brown hair and eyes, muscles. A very nice dream of a man, John thought.
Dave shrugged. "Dunno. Don't think so." He was in a comfortable half-awake state that didn't question why he was sitting in a diner with Carter at almost 3am, but just accepted that he was and it was good.
The waitress arrived back with their drinks, and Dave dumped three of his four marshmallows into his chocolate before pausing. "Want one?"
John shook his head. "No thanks." He grabbed his cup and after blowing on the coffee to take the immediate heat off the top, took a long drink.
Dave stirred his chocolate, watching the marshmallows melt. "So you like it?"
"Hot chocolate? Yeah, I like it all right. I prefer cocoa, but hot chocolate will do when there isn't any of that available. It's definitely cold enough tonight for hot chocolate, isn't it?"
Dave nodded. "Yeah, meant the movie though."
"Oh," John felt his cheeks warming up as he realized his mistake. "What I saw was okay, I guess. What about you?"
Dave grinned, Carter must be as sleepy as he was. "Told ya, didn't see much." He took a slurp of his chocolate, and felt a half-melted marshmallow enter his mouth. It was sticky and sweet and warm. He smiled at Carter.
John laughed. "Guess we paid a lot of money just to take naps, huh?" John turned his face away from Dave, not wanting to look too much into those dark brown eyes and at those smiling lips that were dripping chocolate every time Dave took a drink from the cup. Then there was that little bit of melted marshmallow on Dave's upper lip -- it would be so nice to just lean over and lick it off. John sighed and shifted position on the stool, his thigh brushing up against Dave's. A shot of white heat went through his body and it was with great reluctance that he pulled his leg back.
"So, you like hot chocolate with marshmallows," John said, trying to find something to talk about so he wouldn't think about how he and Dave were the only customers in the place. "What other hot drinks do you like?"
"Coffee," Dave frowned, that didn't sound very adventurous. He grinned. "Mulled wine."
"Mulled wine? Heard of it, but I've never had it. So you like it, huh?"
"It's one of the good things about being in the north in winter." Dave grinned. "In Grenada there was no point, but here..."
"What was Grenada like? I've been down to St. Barths and some of the other islands, but never over to Grenada." John said.
Dave smiled. "It was great. Lots of fun. Good people. Good times. Good weather. Nothin' like New York."
John grinned. "Are you saying that New York is dreadful, not any fun, only bad people, bad times and bad weather? I've always liked New York. Not enough to ever want to live there, but it's a nice place to visit."
"New York's good, too. But Grenada was..." Dave shrugged -- it had been like a new world, no one there had known or cared which bit of New York he came from. Everything that happened there had been because of the way he acted -- not because they'd heard about his brother or the badness of the area he lived in or anything like that. "Ever board sailed?"
John nodded. "It's been a while though. I prefer sailing, but anything that gets me out on the water is a good thing in my book," he said, grinning as he remembered how good it felt to be out on the warm waters of the Caribbean. "Nothing quite like floating at anchor in some cay, with the stars above you so bright that they chase away the darkness. Ever go sailing at night when you were there?"
Dave shook his head, "Nah, but you could just go and lie on the beaches at night sometimes."
"Any nude beaches on Grenada?" John asked with a leer.
Dave shrugged and grinned. "If ya find an empty one."
John laughed. "Tell me about it. My cousins and I would commandeer the beach at the family place on St. Barths. Drove my grandparents crazy when we did that because then they were stuck with the pool. At least that's the complaint they always made. Looking back, I don't think they really minded too much about it as long as my female cousins weren't down on the beach, too."
Dave laughed. "I bet. You ever sneak any of 'em down there with you?" Then he stopped laughing, remembering the things they'd done. "Sorry."
John laughed. "Don't be sorry about asking. It's okay. We never even tried. Gamma would have skinned us all alive over something like that. But one of my cousins, Douglas, he was married to this beautiful woman -- Elaine. You might have seen her around the hospital a time or two about a year and a half ago? Well, Elaine knew where the semi-official nude beach was located and Chase and I would follow her there just so we could watch her strip off everything and then slowly rub that sun-screen into her skin, then recline back on her blanket. Man, she was hot." John said with a grin. "She still is."
Dave laughed, a little uncomfortably. "Who wouldn't have done that?" It was weird laughing about women with a guy he'd done those things with -- just weird. "Sure was sorry to leave there after med school."
"I was last down that way when I had my break between my third and fourth years of med school." John said. He took a sip of his coffee, then eyed Dave's untouched cookie. "Are you going to eat that?"
Dave broke the cookie in half, and gave some to Carter. "Here."
"Thanks," John's fingers brushed Dave's as the cookie half exchanged hands and it sent shivers down John's spine. If only Dave could feel the same way, John thought. But, it wasn't meant to be. He took a bite, then followed it down with another sip of his coffee. "Okay, maybe you can settle something for me. There are some people in the ER who say that you screwed around so much in college that it took you extra time to get out of there and into medical school, that you're older than most third year residents. Any of that true?"
Dave shrugged. "Ya right, took me 5 years, guess I musta screwed round then -- mustn't I?" He bit into his cookie a bit defensively
John shrugged. "I remember you saying something once about how you partied too much. Doesn't matter much, does it? I mean, about how long it took you to get where you're at now. Look at me -- I'm going to be 31 this year and I've already been an intern twice and am still going to have to wait extra months before my residency is complete. That wouldn't have happened if I hadn't have gone to Atlanta." John finished his cookie half and his coffee. He suddenly grinned. "I was just asking to see if I was robbing the cradle before," he said, keeping his voice low so that the waitress, who was at the other end of the counter cleaning, couldn't hear him.
Dave saw the look in Carter's eyes and turned away. "Sure I partied." And he had -- he'd been determined to enjoy college once he'd gotten there -- but he'd also studied trying to catch up on all the things his high school hadn't taught him. And maybe he'd got the balance a bit wrong that first year, but no-one could spend all of their time studying. "That's me. Party central."
John stared intently at Dave's profile. One thing he had learned the previous weekend was that Dave would look away when he felt uncomfortable admitting something. What John couldn't tell was if Dave was uncomfortable about being 'Party central' because he was embarrassed about it or because it wasn't true. If John were going to make a bet on it, he'd put his money on the latter. "Yeah, right," John said, his voice still low. "That's why you were so at ease in the bar, because it's like a second home to you."
Dave turned to face Carter for a second, then looked away. "Damn straight, getting pissed is all Maluccis are good for."
"Why don't I believe that?" John quietly responded, his gaze still on Dave.
Dave shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Not in New York anymore." The remaining bits of cookie crumbled under his fingers.
"No. You're not in New York any more, Dave. The only one here to judge you and find you lacking is you."
"Yeah right. That's why you said I screwed around." Dave swallowed the last of his chocolate. "Ready to go?"
"No," John said. He looked into his coffee cup. "*You're* never lacking, Dave."
Dave stared straight ahead, blinking. "Yeah, I know. I'm a doctor. I'm not in jail. That proves it."
"Being in jail isn't a bad thing if you're there for the right reason." John motioned to the waitress for a coffee refill and a lid, and he didn't speak again until after she filled his cup with more hot caffeine. As fitted the plastic lid on the cup, he continued. "I used to think that I was hard on myself, but I think you've got me beat on that, Malucci. You're a good person and a good doctor, and no one ever said you had to prove it." John slid off the stool, then grabbed his change off the counter, making sure to leave a tip. "You ready to go?"
Dave slid off his stool, and made for the door. He didn't want to have to reply to Carter's saying he was a good person. He could remember Father Frank at his college graduation saying that he was a good person and would make a great doctor -- better because he knew what it was like to be the underdog. And saying that he knew right from wrong. Father Frank would have thought what he and Carter had done last weekend was wrong. Dave pushed open the door to get away from the thoughts.
The snow flurry was getting heavier as they made their way back to the Jeep. "Another wonderful January night -- morning -- in Chicago," John said as he turned on the ignition and fired up the heater. It took over thirty minutes to get back to Dave's place -- partly because of the snow and partly because it was nice to sit in a rapidly warming vehicle and be able to appreciate the smell of hot chocolate that lingered around Dave. John knew that if he kissed Dave then the man would taste of chocolate. John liked chocolate. He liked it a lot. And he had liked kissing Dave, too.
John pulled to a stop in front of Dave's building and yawned. "Here you go. Home safe and sound."
Dave woke up briefly from the pleasant semi-trance he'd fallen into during the drive. It was sometimes easier not to think. There was snow falling on the windows of the Jeep. And it was late. And....and there was nothing wrong with making sure your friends were safe -- that was something Father Frank would have approved of. "You okay to drive Carter? Could crash here."
John looked out at the snow. It would be nice to go with Dave to his apartment, but could he trust himself to keep his hands to himself? John didn't think so. He shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but I'll be okay."
"Oh." Dave sat there a moment. That was good -- probably safer in some ways. But he didn't want to get out of this nice warm cocoon and be alone. He wanted something else.
John wished he had been able to stay awake through the movie. What good was a date if you didn't stay awake? Maybe he could get Dave to go somewhere else with him? But where? Looking out at the snow gave John an idea. "Remember when I told you about the lake?"
"Yeah." Dave couldn't really, his mind was fuzzy with sleep and thinking and remembering and the smell of Carter and just enjoying just being here in the early hours of the morning. But speaking meant he didn't have to leave. "Yeah."
"How about we go ice skating there soon? When's your next day off? Or afternoon or morning?"
"Got tomorrow morn...this morning off." He frowned. "Every morning. I'm 12 - 12 this week. Got all of Saturday too." Their breaths were fogging up the inside of the window. The cab of the Jeep was like a little world separate from everything else. Dave breathed on the window obscuring the rest of the world still further.
John nodded as he tried to think. "I can't remember right now if I have Saturday off or not. I think I do. The rest of the week I'm on 7 am to 7 pm. So," John yawned again, "you want to go ice skating on Saturday then?"
"Sure, that'd be good." Dave turned to Carter and smiled. "That'd be fun." That would be a good thing to do. Nothing wrong with that at all.
John felt his heart melt a little as he looked at Dave and he had to fight down the urge to lean over and kiss those smiling lips. Instead, John smiled back. "Great. How about if you call me once you wake up Saturday morning? That way I won't wake you up or anything. I don't mind driving out here to pick you up."
"Yeah."
John nodded as he reached over to turn on the defroster so he could see out the windshield. "Sleep well and I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
That was it, this evening was over. "Yeah, I will." Dave opened the door of the Jeep and hopped out. Snow fell onto his exposed skin -- he was no longer enclosed in the cocoon of the Jeep. This evening was definitely over. It felt strangely unfinished though -- like something hadn't happened. Dave headed indoors, -- a picture of Carter's smiling face in the Jeep firmly in place in his mind.
John stayed at the curb until Dave had gone into the building and then he drove home. Once in his room he took off his coat, kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed still in the scrubs. He knew he would be dead on his feet by the time he made it to work in the morning, but he didn't care. Being out with Dave had been worth it and now he had another date with Dave to look forward to. Smiling at that thought, John quickly fell asleep.