Crossroads

by Sasha Goldie

  "I'm really most worried about HIV and hepatitis," I whispered. "The others are fairly treatable, right?"

  She nodded. "Yes, generally. The rapid tests for HIV and hepatitis are very reliable. Herpes also gives a reliable reading."

  I gave her all the body fluid she wanted, nervous about what could be hiding in my body that John might've brought home. "If you'll wait there, we will have your results in minutes. Would you like to be separated to hear the results?" she asked.

  Oh, yeah, now she asked. Looked like Bend was as unconcerned about HIPAA as Three Lakes. I looked at Brady and he smiled encouragingly. "No. We can be together."

  Damn, I was putting a shitload of trust into this man I barely knew. This woman could come back and say that I had every disease in the book, and Brady could take one look at me and leave me here, stranded without even my bag. Then what would I do? Sure, I had a few bucks in my pocket this time, but only a few. And I still had to pay for these damn tests. I should have enough for mine, and maybe Brady's too. It was because of me that we were doing them, so I'd pay.

  I sighed and looked around, reading all the charts on the walls of the mini lab. She just left us in there with each other and the machines shaking up the vials. Some of the tests looked like damn pregnancy tests. Some went into machines. I peered at the spinning machines and numbers flashing on the screen, feeling like the tests would never be over. Finally I sat back down by Brady. How could he sit there calm and collected?

  Probably because he was sure his results would be good. I wasn’t so sure.

  By the time she came back and looked at all the little vials and tubes, I was a nervous wreck. My leg was hopping all over the place as I jiggled it to keep from jumping up and running out of the room.

  "All clear," she announced without preamble. As if I hadn't been sitting here, going out of my mind with worry.

  "That's it?" I gasped. "Just, we're fine?"

  "Yep. I did the rapid test on both of you to be safe, and we'll send off his blood. You really do need to get blood work done but you should be good to go." She beamed at us and handed me a form. "Take this to the front counter and pay."

  As soon as we walked out, Brady snatched my paper from my hands and walked fast, reaching the counter first. "I'd like to pay for both of these."

  I plucked at the back of his shirt. "Brady," I hissed. "I wanted to do that."

  He ignored me, and if I made any more of a fuss the now-full room would know our business, so I had to let him.

  It was simultaneously the sweetest thing and the most infuriating. I'd worked, I wanted to pay for it. Also, he was the sweetest man. Damn him.

  When we walked into the main part of the hospital, I physically felt myself shrink. Hospitals and I had never gotten along. The clinic wasn't so bad, only because everyone had been nice, and I hadn't realized why, but as we asked for assistance in the emergency room where we entered the hospital, I figured it out.

  Everyone spoke to Brady with respect and dignity. Mainly they ignored me, but if they did look my way, they smiled and treated me like a human.

  Nobody treated me like a drug-seeker or junkie. Nobody threatened to call the cops.

  Nobody looked through me.

  It was insane. Every time I'd gone to the hospital—even when my appendix had nearly burst—I'd been shunted to the side, left out in the waiting room for hours. And most of the time, there was a good reason. I was only there to fake an injury to get pain medication.

  Moving throughout the halls of the hospital without a guard watching me was an uplifting experience. This was the sort of life I wanted. I wanted to hold my head high as I carried myself proudly through life. I didn't want to shrink into the corners and wait for someone to kick me.

  The visit with Tyler went well. We sat beside his bed and Brady tried to talk to him. "Man, everyone misses you."

  Tyler was off of the respirator. "It seems like he's not too bad off," I said encouragingly. "He's not on full life support, it doesn't look like."

  "He's already been here for almost five months. If he doesn't wake soon the likelihood that he'll ever wake is slim."

  "Actually, we're hopeful," a tentative voice came from the door. We both turned to look behind us and see who was speaking.

  A tiny man wearing scrubs walked into the room. He was skinnier than even I was, and had thick red hair cut just above his ears. His cheeks were blushed bright red, clashing with his hair. "They've been doing new tests, and there's one that's only a few years old that measures how much sugar or glucose the brain is using. It's an energy thing. He's testing really well. There's a good chance he'll wake up before a year is up, based on the study's findings." The small man stepped forward timidly. "I'm Patrick, Tyler's CNA." He held out his hand. "This is the first time I've met you two."

  Brady stood, not literally twice as tall as Patrick, but not far from it. He reached down to shake the smaller man's hand. "Brady. I've been friends with Tyler for a long time. Can you update us any more on his prognosis?"

  I finger waved at him. "Hi, I'm Corey."

  He finger waved back as he walked around the bed to check on the machine controlling Tyler's IV. "He's had a good day," he said. "We exercised and watched a movie. And as far as his blood tests go, today's were great. He's just on the feeding tube now. I wouldn't be surprised to come in here at any time and see him blinking and stirring."

  "But it's not a sure thing?" I asked.

  Patrick's shoulders slumped as he looked at the IV pole again. "No. It's not."

  We thanked the man and decided to go. Brady spent several minutes holding Tyler's hand and looking down at him, then he gently set his hand on his chest and walked out the door. I followed quietly, giving Patrick another finger wave.

  "That man is in love with his patient," I said as Brady hit the elevator button.

  "You're crazy." He laughed and looked down the hall where Patrick was exiting Tyler's room, closing the door gently behind him.

  Hmph. "Mark my words."

  18

  Brady

  The whole drive home, all I wanted to do was pull over and screw Corey silly. We'd both gotten a clean bill of health, and his advice to see Tyler had been spot on. I hadn't known about his positive diagnosis and the hope that he'd wake up. His family was probably keeping it under wraps in case it was false hope.

  I contented myself on the drive by holding his hand. "Did I ever tell you about my senior prank?" I said to lighten the mood. The interior of the truck felt heavy.

  "I don't believe you ever did," he said with a laugh. "You could now."

  "Senior year, I was in a class of about forty kids. Kids from the next county over drove to our school. That was the only reason there were so many. Anyway, the pressure was on to do the perfect senior prank. Over the years the most popular thing was to let small animals loose in the school. As a result, it wasn't unusual to find mice, rats, bunnies all hiding in the crevices of Union County High."

  Corey burst out laughing. "That's horrifying. But, I went to school in a larger town, and it was the same there. Senior pranks were the highlight of the day any time one was successfully carried out."

  "Yes. Well, Ian, you remember Ian?"

  Corey nodded.

  "Well, Ian had gone through the year before me, and him being the son of the tow truck driver and already a damn good mechanic, he'd taken the principal's car apart and put pieces of it all over the school."

  "That sounds hilarious."

  "They never could prove it was him, but it was him. He admitted it years later, at the principal's funeral. His widow gave Ian a hug and told him that secretly, Ian's prank was the old man's favorite."

  Corey squeezed my hand. "That's pretty cool."

  "Yeah, but I had to outdo him. I didn't want to mess with rats, though, ‘cause they're gross. But every summer since I could ride my bike down there, I'd ridden down to Tucker's dairy farm and helped him with his herd all summer. It was back-breaking work, but he paid well, s
o I kept going back."

  "I can see where this is going," Corey said, scrunching up his nose. "Does it involve manure?"

  "Ha, no, but good guess." We entered Three Lakes again just as I geared up to tell the best part of the story. "So, I got Old Man Tucker in on it. He was a hard-ass, but man, he loved a good prank. He'd gone through Union County High as well and liked to tell his senior prank story about drawing a penis on the lawn in weed killer so it killed the grass and they had to wait for it to grow fresh."

  Corey's laughter soaked through me, lifting my spirits and making my dick harder. The man just damn got to me.

  "Early one morning, we took the key that was passed down from one senior class to the next and snuck his prized milk cow into the principal's office. Then we went back to his house and waited. Around six-thirty that morning, he got a call from the sheriff at the time asking if he was missing a cow. He made a big production about having just come in from milking the cows and one was missing. He cussed up one side and down the other. Really, he put on a great show."

  Corey was nearly doubled over laughing. If he hadn't been wearing a seatbelt, he would've fallen into the floor. "Did you get caught?"

  "Of course we did! They even knew Tucker was in on it. After Ian got away with the car prank, they'd installed a single damn camera in the school, over the front door, which happened to be the door that I had a key for. They had us on video pushing old Bessie into the school. Tucker was fit to be tied."

  Corey wheezed and wiped his eyes. "How much trouble did you get in?"

  "I had to clean the carpet where the damn cow had peed and pooped, and Tucker had to pay to replace the desk she destroyed. He did it gladly, said he'd had the time of his life and now he had two senior prank stories to tell. He told that story to anyone that would listen until he died, not long after Principal Belding."

  We pulled into my garage and hopped out of the truck. I was hungry again, but as I watched Corey walk around, all thoughts of food left me. He was here, for now, so for now, he'd be mine.

  Taking his hand, I led him into the kitchen and grabbed him by the shoulders, crushing him into me for a hug. "Thank you," I said against the top of his head as I pressed kisses into his hairline.

  He reached around and hugged me back. "For what?"

  "For making me go. For getting tested with me. For being the best man I've met in my life."

  "Isn't it a bit premature to say I'm the best?" he asked as he leaned back to look up into my eyes.

  Staring down at him, I considered his words, his kindness, and his obvious rough life. He'd been through hell, I didn't know what sort of hell yet, but he'd come through as a wonderful man. "No. It's not."

  I kissed him passionately, the restraint I'd felt the night before leaving. Pushing him backward, I kept going until he was pressed against the kitchen counter. Reaching between us, I unbuckled his pants, discovering him again going commando. "I like when you don't wear underwear," I growled as I pulled his already hard dick out of his pants and let them fall to the floor.

  He kicked his shoes to the side and stepped out of his jeans. "Then I'll never wear underwear," he said as he unbuttoned my shirt.

  I grabbed the hem of his tee as he finished the last of my buttons and pulled it over his head, diving straight for his nipple ring. I hadn't shown it any attention the night before. My tongue played with it as my hand found his cock.

  His hands were trapped between us, clenching my chest. One of them moved to my waist and I felt him struggling with the button on my jeans. I took one step back, just enough to let him unbutton me and take my dick out.

  This wasn't how I wanted it, though. I grabbed his waist and lifted him onto the counter. It was a bit easier than I expected it to be. "Brady," he exclaimed. "We cook here."

  "So you'll disinfect it in the morning, I don't care," I said as I bent over and took him into my mouth. With the news from the clinic, I was going to suck him to completion and give him the same thing he'd given me the night before.

  "Brady," he moaned and leaned back against the counter. "I can't reach you."

  I held his cock up as I lifted my head to kiss him then talk to him. "You don't need to. All I want to do is fuck you, but first I'm going to make you come down my throat. I want to hear you moan my name while you do it."

  He flexed the muscles in his ass as I spoke, pushing his cock against my hand until I returned my mouth to it. Gripping the sides of the counter, he had no other option but to enjoy the building orgasm as I sucked and stroked him. Nudging his knees apart, I used my free hand to reach around and pull him closer to the edge of the counter so I could use my finger to increase his pleasure. Licking it thoroughly to lube it up, I stared at his face as I reached between his legs, touching his hole with a firmer and firmer stroke as his breathing grew more labored. Pushing inside him as he panted, I returned to sucking his cock. Curling my finger in just the right way got a strangled yell from him and his hands in my hair. "Brady," he squeaked. "I'm coming."

  His hot cum squirted down my throat as I squeezed his base, helping him get the most out of his orgasm. As soon as he was finished, he pushed at me, drawing my face up to his. I kissed him hard and moved both my arms around him.

  "Let me give you what you need," he whispered, sliding off the counter and taking my hand. He led me to my bed and took the lube out of the bedside cabinet, squeezing a bit out onto my dick and covering it. Climbing into the bed on his knees, he turned and looked at me. "Ready?" he asked.

  "No," I said. "I want to see your face while I fuck you."

  "Fuck, Brady, you sure do know what to say to make a guy want to nut again." I wondered if he could go another round. Some guys just didn't have the physical makeup to recover so quickly. I didn't.

  He lay on his back, giving me the room to settle myself on top of him. Spending a few minutes kissing and caressing his face and chest, then a few more minutes really enjoying his nipple ring, I finally turned my attention to my own pleasure. Adding a little more lube, I stuck my finger inside him, easier this time with the slick help, and tried to stretch him a bit. My girth might be a problem.

  "You don't have to do that," he whispered. "Just go slow."

  Going slow was going to be really damn hard, but I would do it for him. I wouldn't want to cause him any pain, not if what he'd been through in life was what I suspected.

  Putting a little extra lube on his crack, I pushed my head into his entrance and watched his eyes darken. Looking down, his cock was hardening in front of my eyes.

  Apparently, he could go again. "You're so fucking hot," I whispered as I so slowly pushed forward, fighting the pleasure as I wanted to nut right away from his tight hole.

  When my groin was pressed fully against his ass, I reached over and handed him the lube.

  "Come when I do, but not a moment before," I commanded, staring him in the eye to show him I was serious.

  "Oh, what will you do if I disobey?" he asked as he rubbed his slick hands together, then massaged himself, teasing me. "If my hand gets me off before my ass gets you off?"

  "I'll think of a suitable punishment," I threatened. "And it will probably be a lot of fun."

  He burst out laughing, but it didn't kill the mood. I loved how easily we laughed around each other. I kissed his smile away and began to move, inching out and back in, giving him plenty of adjusting time.

  Finally, he wiggled, his hand rapidly stroking his cock, and whispered the most magical words. "Fuck me, Brady."

  So, I fucked him. Pounding into his ass was like nirvana, his body giving me exactly what I needed to build an amazing orgasm. I couldn't have stopped the roar as I came if someone held a gun to my head.

  Corey didn't come before me, but he also didn't come at the same time. "Don't stop," I warned him, pulling out and picking him up in a bridal carry. He continued stroking as I reached in and, with a bit of difficulty, turned on the shower.

  I had an instant hot water heater, so the water was hot within se
conds. I stepped into the shower and set him on the chair built into the wall in the corner. Reaching down, I clasped his cock as the water sprayed down on us, stroking him slowly as I lowered my mouth to his.

  He let me take care of him, his hands roaming my body. I never wanted to stop. I wanted to take care of him and cherish him. My hand moved faster on his dick as I crouched down beside him, my other hand holding me steady on his thigh. We kissed frantically as his orgasm built, my hand squeezing and pumping exactly as I would on my own. When he finished, I grabbed the soap and worshipped his body as I cleansed him, giving him all my caring with the movement of my hands and the soap.

  I kept the words to myself, though. If I pushed him, he might run. And that would be the worst.

  19

  Brady

  As I pulled my truck into the driveway the next day, I wondered what Corey had been up to. After our shower sex the day before, he'd gone to the diner again, and I'd come home to the casserole reheated. It had been delicious, of course. We watched a movie that evening before bed, and Corey stayed in my bed again.

  Waking with him in my arms this morning had been like a dream. My hard-on pressed into his ass as I spooned him, and he wiggled his cheeks against me. "Fuck me awake," he'd mumbled.

  He hadn't had to ask me twice.

  After sharing another shower, I realized we'd taken way too long and scrambled to make it to work on time. I made it, but without breakfast or lunch. After getting settled, I stopped in the diner for breakfast and ate in the kitchen while I watched Corey work. He was a fireball in Daisy's kitchen. He'd been born to be a chef. If he stayed, I'd open him a restaurant.

  The thought had popped into my head while I ate and bothered me all day.

  Pulling into the garage, it crept into my mind again. Why would I be so convinced to do something for someone I barely knew?