by Roe Horvat
“Yes.”
The phone went silent.
Luke began walking to shake off the nervous energy. Except then he almost bumped into a nurse rushing by and decided he should stay out of everyone’s way. He hid in a corner and tapped his foot against the wall instead.
Liam was punctual. He arrived twenty-three minutes after Luke had called him. The tall man strode into the ER and looked around, the sliding door closing behind him. He didn’t fit here. This was a place where people were at their lowest; hurt, dirty, scared, heartbroken. Common. Liam stood out like an aristocrat who’d wandered into the village pub. His mouth pinched, dark eyebrows frowned in concentration, he scanned the room. His black suit jacket fit him impeccably. He’d always dressed like a visionary millionaire—which he was—so to Luke, Liam looked out of place wherever he showed up. His appearance was striking, too grand and noble for mortals. Luke had always felt like a bum when in the same room with the man. Now, he had his training hoodie on, the one with the ripped sleeve, and he hadn’t showered after the rehearsal, so he stank of sweat.
Not like any of that mattered.
“Liam,” Luke said, not too loud but distinct enough so that Liam turned in his direction and spotted him.
Watching Liam approach, Luke felt his stomach turn. He should leave. Marcus’s partner was here, there had been no new information for the past twenty-five minutes, and Luke had become superfluous.
But Liam did the strangest thing. He hugged Luke, squeezing tight, and brushed a fleeting kiss high on his cheek.
“Thank you,” he said.
Luke stood frozen, stupefied by the affectionate hello.
“Do you know anything more?” Liam asked.
“No. Nothing yet,” Luke stammered out.
“Okay, wait here. I’ll go ask.”
“Liam?”
“Wait here. He’d want you here.” Liam’s expression allowed for no arguments. And honestly? Luke wanted to stay. He needed to know Marcus was going to be okay.
He watched anxiously as Liam talked to the receptionist. Luke didn’t need to ask. He could see it in Liam’s face there was nothing to learn. Liam nodded and thanked, polite and professional as if he were in a business meeting. On his way back to Luke, he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and took down his black-framed glasses to wipe them. He paused a few steps away from Luke. Placing the glasses back on his nose, he frowned, folded the handkerchief with care, and put it back into his jacket pocket as if he had all the time in the world.
“Nothing new. A doctor will come out within one hour and inform us. They are understaffed, so we have to be patient, but the nurse assured me he’s not in critical condition. Only standard procedures.”
“They said the same when I asked.”
And they were quiet. Liam scrolled on his phone, looked around, and scrolled some more, typed and scrolled, typed… Was he working? Now? Luke tried not to look at him too much. Time inched forward like a river of thick mud, and Luke was trapped there, feeling insufficient, afraid, helpless… He counted his own breaths, grateful for the few yoga lessons he’d had in the past. Twenty-seven minutes of silence passed. Suddenly, Liam slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and looked up.
“How are you?” he asked.
Luke startled at the question. “Me?” he squeaked, such an undignified sound. He cleared his throat.
“Yes. You. Marcus messaged me in the afternoon that you want to quit.”
What the hell? “You want to talk about me? Now?”
“We’re going to be here a while. Why not?”
“Liam…”
Liam put a hand on his shoulder, and Luke wanted to step away. Liam’s voice stopped him.
“You’re tough. And hard on yourself. It’s not necessary.”
So damn patronizing. “You don’t know me.”
A small smile. “You really believe that? Besides, we have a lot in common.”
Luke snorted. That was going too far. “Marcus is in there with possible bleeding in his brain. We should both be shitting ourselves from worry. That’s what we should have in common. But you seem to be taking it rather well?” Immediately after he said it, Luke felt like an ass.
Liam’s eyes flashed with fury, but he reined it in quickly. When he spoke, he sounded cool. A seasoned negotiator. “I don’t have to spill my feelings to prove something to you of all people. There is nothing I can do to help Marcus at this moment. I understand you feel awkward in my presence, but your last comment was beneath you, and I think you are aware of it.” He took a breath, and his features relaxed, eyes gentling. “You don’t have to apologize. How about we have a civil conversation to shorten our wait?”
Since the first time he saw him, Luke had always wanted to find a fault with Liam to somehow justify his longing for Marcus. Because if Liam were a lesser person, Marcus would one day realize it and leave him. One day, there could be a chance for Luke to show Marcus just how much he was loved. In his wildest fantasy, when he was at his weakest, Luke imagined sweeping in like a fucking knight on a white horse, saving Marcus from the evil, dark sorcerer Liam had always resembled. But Liam Andrén had again and again proved he was not only attractive, intelligent, and successful but also a good man. Exactly the kind of man Marcus deserved. And instead of righteously hating Liam, Luke ended up only disgusted with himself.
Annoyed, Luke looked down at his red sneakers. Whatever he’d do would be pointless anyway. He might as well talk.
“I did quit the theater. I’ll finish the last two months of the season, take a few weeks off during the summer, and starting in August, I’ll be able to do the next semester at Gothenburg University full time.”
“You are studying to become a nurse, right?”
Unable to help himself, Luke winced. “It’s ridiculous, man. We’re making small talk in the ER while Marcus…”
“Tell me about the school, Luke,” Liam said, slow and imploring. His tone was calm, and his otherwise sharp eyes grew a little sad. In a moment of clarity, it struck Luke that while Liam was very good at keeping it together, he was terrified for his partner. He was just trying to distract himself.
Sighing, Luke continued. “I’ve only managed a few basic courses this year. If I do nothing else, I can have my bachelor in two years.”
“Marcus mentioned you’ve been under a lot of pressure trying to manage both studying and the rehearsals. It’s admirable.”
Luke shrugged. Compliments from Liam would have been hard to accept, even under normal circumstances.
“So that’s why you quit?” Liam asked, lifting his perfectly shaped dark eyebrow. The suggestion hung in the air between them. Was Luke leaving the troupe to avoid Marcus? He had nothing to lose by being honest. He was already vulnerable with Liam in every possible way. What did it matter if the man knew about all of his weaknesses when he already knew about the worst one?
“I’m almost thirty-five. I can’t do this forever. Some people are… I don’t know, made for it? Like Adam. The man is a superhero. Never sick, never injured, so fucking talented. He will be dancing until he’s sixty. But I’ve had problems with my left Achilles tendon for most of my career, and my hip keeps acting up.” He laughed bitterly. “I feel eighty.”
“And the choreographer assistant offer?”
“You heard about that,” Luke said.
“Marcus is talkative. I like listening to him.”
Luke chuckled brokenly. Of course, Liam knew everything. “I want a change. A fresh start.” And avoiding Marcus was both a bonus and a curse. Luke’s heart ached when he imagined not seeing Marcus every day. But maybe seeing him, talking to him, had been just as painful. Marcus had respected Luke’s boundaries, making it possible for Luke to work and just…function. However, after months of immaculate self-control, Luke was exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with inflamed tendons and achy hip joints.
Seeing Liam at every damn premiere, at every party, every fundraiser, on random Thursday evenings picki
ng Marcus up, in his suits and pristine shirts with open collar, the silver streaks in his wind-swept dark hair, those fucking designer glasses. Those glasses should have been able to obscure Liam’s eyes enough for Luke to at least keep an illusion of self-respect. But every single time they met, he saw Liam watching him and seeing through him. Liam would narrow his eyes, linger, his features serious, even sad, and then he’d turn back to Marcus with such evident devotion in his face—like a kick in a kidney. Two fucking years of this shit.
Today, Liam’s penetrating gaze made Luke smirk. His anxiety evaporated with the reminder that trying to pretend was futile.
“I think it will be for the best. For everyone,” Luke said. Perversely, he enjoyed the freedom to be honest with Liam. Yes, I have always wanted your man, and I have always wanted you gone. And now I just want out. As far away from you both as possible. He had struggled to stay at a safe distance, to work and keep his head down. He managed to treat Marcus with indifference like a true professional, but today, seeing Marcus helpless and in pain drove the final point home. Marcus wasn’t his to take care of, to comfort. Luke was right to quit. His effort had been meaningless; he’d never cease to love Marcus. Nothing to hide, nothing to hope for.
He needed to get out.
The sadness he could deal with; it was stable, his old normal. He would establish a new normal, a less pathetic default. Luke would leave the theater and get himself a new life. Marcus would recover and return home to Liam.
Oh please, let Marcus be okay. I’m leaving. I’m letting go. Just please, let him be fine.
“He will be fine, Luke.” Liam’s voice sounded like coming from behind a wall.
Luke swallowed, blinking to ease the pressure in his eyes, but the darkness came quickly and unexpectedly, leaving him no chance to prepare himself. It enveloped him like a gust of smoke, heavy and suffocating, and he struggled to breathe. Maybe that was why he didn’t have the strength to push Liam away when the man put a hand on his nape and tugged him closer. Giving up the last of his struggle, Luke let himself be embraced by the least welcome of consolers. His head fell on Liam’s shoulder. He fisted his hands and folded his arms against Liam’s chest in a last, meager attempt to hold back the sobs. He broke down anyway. At least here, in the ER, a man crying in the arms of another didn’t seem strange.
He felt the pressure of the warm hand on his neck, and he might have shrugged it off under any other circumstances. Right then, he just burrowed closer. Being held by Liam was strangely guiltless. The one man who should despise him the most kept petting his hair and running a strong hand up and down his back. No humiliation, just acceptance and compassion. Against his will, Luke felt profound respect for Liam. And Liam…smelled good. Breathing deeply, Luke let the scent invade his senses, his lungs and body, and all the ugly, harsh stuff dispersed in it like fog in the morning sun. He could hate himself for succumbing to Liam, he would soon, but at the moment, the scent and the touch felt good. He was too busy breathing in to hate anything or anyone.
Luke resurfaced after a few minutes, straightening. Liam fetched him tissues from a shelf next to the vending machine, and Luke wiped his face.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“Nothing to apologize for.” Liam squeezed his shoulder.
“See, I really have to leave. This just…makes it more evident.”
Liam sighed, a look of disappointment on his face. He couldn’t want Luke to fight for Marcus and potentially ruin their relationship. That was just absurd.
“I understand. I don’t agree, but I understand.”
Luke shook his head at Liam’s casual stance. “You should want me as far away from him as possible.”
“What I want is for Marcus to be happy.”
Crumbling the tissues into a ball and throwing them into the trash, Luke gained a few seconds of time to think about his next move in this bizarre conversation. He could never win a debate with Liam. The best was to just back out.
“They should come out soon. How long has it been?” he asked, pretending his voice didn’t quiver.
Liam pulled out his phone and checked the screen briefly.
“One hour and seven minutes since you arrived here,” Liam said. “Shouldn’t take much longer.”
Luke nodded. The ache in his stomach intensified with the thought of what news they might receive. He chased it away. Marcus would be okay. He had to be. It wouldn’t make any sense otherwise.
Liam looked around and wrinkled his nose. “You want to work in a place like this?” A change of topic. Thank god.
“It’s interesting, challenging, and helpful.”
“The pay sucks.”
“Just like what I earn now.”
Smirking, Liam nodded. “True.”
“Lucas Danielsson?” A male voice broke through the muted noises in the room. Luke pushed off the wall and strode quickly toward the middle-aged bearded nurse in light blue scrubs. He sensed Liam on his heels.
“Yes?”
“Come with me.”
They followed the man through the double glass door into a corridor.
“We admitted your boyfriend with a concussion. He’s fine, but we need to keep him in for a day.”
“Marcus is… This is Marcus’s partner, Liam Andrén. I’m just a friend.”
“Oh. I apologize,” the nurse said and promptly switched focus to Liam. Luke slowed down so Liam could walk next to the nurse. Walking behind them, he could let out his frustration by puffing his cheeks and squeezing his eyes shut for a second.
The nurse went through the standard information on concussion recovery, warning them Marcus might be a little confused or suffer from temporary short-memory losses. Nausea, fatigue, headaches, oversensitivity to light and noise. It had all been in Luke’s textbooks.
“If nothing changes, he can go home tomorrow evening. But he shouldn’t be alone for a few days.”
“No problem. I’ll stay at home with him,” Liam assured, and the nurse nodded.
They paused in front of the massive door; a small, red light next to the handle indicated the room was occupied. Luke entered slowly, giving space to the men in front of him. There was only one bed and plenty of floor space all around it. For equipment, Luke realized. But aside from an IV and one monitor, Marcus didn’t seem to need anything. Luke exhaled. Marcus would be fine. It was just a concussion. Nothing serious.
“You have five minutes,” the nurse said, turning to Liam. “After that, I have to ask you to wait again outside. We will move him within a couple of hours for observation, where you will be allowed to stay with him, but there’s only one armchair.” His eyes flashed to Luke, his expression neutral. “Overnight, we only allow one visitor.”
The nurse left, closing the door behind him.
Marcus’s eyes were closed, but he made a noise when Liam crouched by the bed and laid his head on Marcus’s shoulder.
“Hi, baby,” Liam cooed.
The smile on Marcus’s face was beautiful, and it cut Luke right between his ribs. Hunched down, he turned away. Yes, there was plenty of floor space in this room, but nowhere he could stand to be. He had no place here.
“Luke?” Marcus’s weak voice followed him out the door.
Luke didn’t turn back.
The messages were the worst. And lovely. Liam sent the first update barely a few hours after Luke left the hospital.
01:34
They moved him into another room, and I’m with him now. He’s less confused. Answered all the questions. The second doctor confirmed there’s no spinal injury and no fractures.
04:20
They are checking his reactions every three hours. He’s doing fine. No complications. Go to sleep, Luke.
16:36
Hi, Luke. They are letting us go home tonight. He will have headaches and might still get disoriented, but he should be back to normal in two weeks maximum.
21:10
Thank you for yesterday. We are home now. Marcus is tired but otherwi
se fine.
11:35
Hi, Luke. Just letting you know Marcus is back on his feet, complaining about boredom. He’ll be back at work in no time.
Luke was immensely grateful for the updates, humbled, and irrationally angry at Liam.
He had his first erotic dream about Liam five nights after the evening in the hospital. In the dream, Marcus sat in an armchair, naked but for a cape around his shoulders. He had a wide scar in the middle of his forehead, his usually wild curly hair was swept back, and his sharp features seemed bolder, his cheekbones more pronounced. He looked down at Luke like a king from a throne. Liam stood by his man’s side, tall and menacing. The room was quiet, dark, and so large Luke couldn’t see the ceiling or walls. His breaths seemed to echo in the stillness.
Without being told, Luke stripped and knelt because in his dream, he knew he had to. Without questioning anything, he waited silently when Liam stepped forward, caught Luke’s jaw in his hands, and pushed his cock into Luke’s mouth while Marcus watched, his face expressionless. Luke closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see Marcus’s cold gaze. Liam fucked his mouth, huge and insistent, and Luke wanted to hate it, but he was hard, aroused to the very edge of sanity. He sucked on Liam’s cock with hunger, trying to identify the flavor, but in his dream, he couldn’t. He held his hands behind his back, clutching them together, and he wanted to tell them to please fuck him, use him, fuck him raw and hard, and make it hurt… But of course, he couldn’t speak; he knew that even if there weren’t a giant hard cock lodged in his throat, he wouldn’t have been able to say a single word. Liam held his head with both hands, tugging at his hair, and Luke sucked harder, frenzied yet oddly disconnected. The primitive part of him rejoiced in the act. He wanted Liam to choke him, and his groin pulsed with every thrust. He could see himself from the distance. Used, humiliated, desperate.
When Liam came in his mouth, he couldn’t taste it. He fisted his hands so he wouldn’t touch himself because he knew Marcus wouldn’t want him to. Liam stepped away, grabbed Luke’s head by the hair, tilting it back, and Luke opened his eyes again. His dream Marcus stood from his throne, naked and hard, and he walked toward Luke, slowly stroking himself.
