by J P Barnaby
“What did you have in mind?” Jude asked as he dropped into a chair on the other side of Andy’s desk. It took his boss a full minute to stop typing and acknowledge Jude, not out of disrespect, but because he never seemed to stop working. In Andy’s world, 4:00 a.m. e-mails were read and vacation e-mails were replied to from Aruba, so e-mails sent during working hours were definitely answered no matter who sat waiting.
“We have a bigger workload than last year. I’d like to start out with fifteen hours a week in overtime for the senior accountants and probably five to ten hours for the staff accountants. We’ll do that for the first couple of weeks and see how things go. We’ll go ahead and start you out at ten hours and bump it up when the official word comes down about the promotion.” Andy’s expression never lost its determined confidence that Jude would go along with whatever he said. Ten to fifteen hours a week more than the forty he already worked. Jude had no idea how he could do that and care for Ben, but he needed the job. He couldn’t afford to refuse.
Then an idea occurred to him.
“Andy, Ben just came home from the hospital. He’s not moving around very well and it would be easier if I were there. The seniors do their overtime remotely; could we work something out like that for me?” Jude asked, but the way Andy’s face fell, he knew chances were slim.
“I’m reluctant to do that before the decision is made on the promotion, first because I don’t want anything to look presumptuous, but second because Dennis will pitch a fit. He’s asked for that the last three years, but he has no legitimate reason for doing so except that he’s lazy. If I bend the rules for you and not him, he’s going to raise holy hell saying that I favor you because we’re both gay. Neither of us needs that.” Andy rolled his eyes, but the sadness in them showed his compassion for Jude’s situation. Jude blinked; he hadn’t known Andy was gay, but the fact that he had an ally soothed him. He just had no idea how he was going to take care of Ben and work upward of fifty-five hours a week and keep them both fed.
“No, we don’t need that. I’ll figure it out,” he said as he started to rise.
“Audit season starts next week, so let me know when you want to do your extra time and I’ll approve the schedule.” Andy’s attention shifted back to his computer, leaving Jude to turn quietly and leave. He stopped at his cube long enough to pick up his bag and headed for the door. Dennis sat working at his station, and Jude considered smacking him in the back of the head with his bag as he passed but decided Dennis wasn’t worth the trouble. Instead, he made plans to talk to his buddy Bobby in IT to see what they could do about fucking with his computer. Maybe turn the screen upside down or rearrange the keys on his keyboard.
That put a smile on his face as he headed down to the parking lot.
Half an hour later, he walked in the front door of the apartment, and the tension seemed to slide from his shoulders. Ben slept on the couch with a book across his bare chest and Max under his good arm. Jude dropped the bag of Mexican food on the coffee table next to Ben’s laptop and smiled down at them. They looked so peaceful; he hated to bother Ben even to eat. Max’s little head perked up at the sound of paper rustling, and Jude scratched the tiny dog’s chin with a finger.
“Hey baby,” he said quietly, moving his hand up to rub Max’s head.
“Hi honey,” Ben said and Jude noticed that while his eyes were still closed, a slow easy smile spread across his face. The smile wasn’t a smirk, so he knew Ben wasn’t fucking with him, just playing. Too bad he didn’t have the balls to play back because for him, it was all too real.
“I brought tacos, are you hungry?”
“La Caretta?” Ben asked with genuine hope in his voice and one eye cracked open. The right eye, Jude noticed, opened a little slower. He wondered if it was a part of the damage and decided to add it to the list of questions for the neurologist. Damn. Jude grabbed his phone and made a note to himself to schedule his overtime around Ben’s neurology appointments.
“Yep.”
“I’m always hungry for La Caretta,” Ben said as Jude grabbed Max so Ben could sit up. It took him a minute using only his good arm for leverage, but he didn’t ask for help. Jude wondered if he was even capable of it. Ben was so fucking proud.
“Did you take good care of Ben today?” Jude asked Max as he held the little dog in his arms. “Daddy brought you a treat too.” He moved to the other side of the table and picked up a small paper bag. A butcher shop in the same strip mall as the restaurant carried dried pig ears, which sounded gross to Jude, but Max loved them. Max let out a few small but hearty barks at the scent as he pulled the thing out of the bag, then vibrated in his arms as he tried to get at the treat. Jude laughed before setting Max on the floor and holding the ear out for him to grab. Jude swore he heard a little “yum” before the dog disappeared behind the chair with his prize.
Laughing to himself, he washed his hands in the kitchen before grabbing plates, forks, a wet soapy paper towel, and a clean wet one. They could eat in the living room until Ben was able to make it to the breakfast bar again. He only cringed a little at the thought of cheese all over his couch. After a moment of thought, he turned around, grabbed the roll of paper towels off the holder, and took that with him too. It took him a minute to set everything on the table, and then he handed Ben the wet and soapy paper towels so he could wash his hands without having to try and lumber to the bathroom or the kitchen.
“You’re so thoughtful,” Ben mused as he took the plate Jude held out for him layered with half a dozen tacos. Jude grabbed his own plate and took a minute before responding. His heart leapt at the sentiment, and he hoped Ben wasn’t kidding. Fuck, he sounded like a teenage girl, desperate for the attention of that guy at school she liked.
“What? Should I just let you fend for yourself?” He didn’t intend for the question to come out with such a snap. Instead, he backtracked and said quickly, “I care about you; of course I’m going to take care of you.”
“Most guys wouldn’t have thought to bring me something to wash my hands. They’d have thrown the tacos at me and gone back to their lives.” He took a bite of his first taco, carefully over a paper towel so he didn’t dribble anything on Jude’s couch. Jude thought Ben was pretty fucking thoughtful too.
“I’m not most guys,” Jude said as he grabbed one of the tacos out of the bag.
“No, you’re not most guys.”
Nine
“CAN’T WE take the brace off too? I’d really like to get back to work,” Ben asked as Dr. Taylor continued to cut through the cast on his arm. Jude stood off to the side watching the doctor with the ginger handlebar moustache work the vibrating saw. The man didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to finish his task before diverting his attention. When the white plaster fell away, showing Ben’s wilted arm, he addressed his patient’s concern.
“It’s only been six weeks. Your knee isn’t progressing as well as I’d hoped. We may have to go in and operate again to repair the ligament, if we can’t strengthen it. But we’ll take things one step at a time,” he said as he looked through the chart again. Ben’s face fell. He’d been getting around better with just one crutch, but not to the point where he’d be able to climb under a car or carry tires around the garage. Ben told him his boss wouldn’t let him come back unless he was one hundred percent because if he got hurt at work, they’d be screwed with worker’s comp. So far, Ben said they hadn’t had to hire another mechanic, but he was afraid what would happen to his job if they did.
“If I don’t get back to work, I won’t have insurance for another surgery. Whatever you want to do, we need to do it fast.” Ben flexed his elbow and wrist, trying to get used to having the use of his arm again. The road map of angry red slashes over his scalp, face, and arm had faded slightly to a dark pink but were more pronounced on the pale skin uncovered when the cast came off. Even after all these weeks, it made Jude’s heart hurt when Ben avoided the mirror as Jude helped him shower. Jude wanted to tell him that he was still
beautiful but couldn’t find the words, not since they hadn’t been intimate again after the impromptu blow job. He didn’t think Ben would want to hear it, at least from him.
“I want you to see the orthopedic surgeon this week, and we’ll try to get things moving. Are you having any headaches, blurred vision, or dizziness?” the doctor asked as he pushed his graying red hair back from his eyes and continued to flip through the chart. Even before Ben answered, the man pulled a small pad from his white coat and dropped it on the counter.
“No, I’ve been having some headaches since they took me off the morphine drip a couple weeks ago, but the pills help.” Ben scratched the arm recently freed from the cast and watched the doctor write something on the pad.
“Here, I want you to have an MRI. We need to make sure there isn’t any further damage or bleeds. I don’t like that you’re still having headaches.” The rolling stool shot a foot behind the doctor as he stood up and closed the chart. He handed a piece of paper to Ben, and Jude assumed it was the order for an MRI. In the corner, out of the way, he watched Ben put his shirt back on, covering up the body he’d been dreaming about every night for weeks.
“Check with the front desk about scheduling that MRI, and I’ll see you in two weeks,” the doctor told Ben just before he scooted out of the examining room, off to see another patient. Paper beneath Ben rustled as he climbed off the table and grabbed his jacket.
“Well, so much for going back to work,” he said with a sigh and followed Jude to the front desk so they could schedule yet another test. It didn’t take long, and within minutes they were on their way back to the apartment.
“You hungry?” Jude asked as he held Max out of the way so Ben could use the crutches in their front hall without hurting the little dog. He hated the defeated slump to Ben’s shoulders as he hobbled past the living room and into his bedroom.
“No, I think I’m just going to lie down. I didn’t sleep well last night after my mom called, again, all upset about missing Thanksgiving last week. You’d think after four years, she’d figure out I’m not coming. Christmas will be worse.” Ben sighed and didn’t close the door of his bedroom as he walked in. Jude watched when he pulled off his T-shirt and crawled carefully onto the bed. His sweats, cut at the bottom to go over the brace, stayed on. Jude sighed as Ben rolled onto his side and tried to get comfortable with the huge mechanical brace on his knee.
Being as quiet as he could, Jude went into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich from the ham Ronnie had brought down the night before. She still cooked for them two or three days a week and brought Ben lunch most afternoons. The woman really was a saint, and Jude had already talked to Ben about giving her a trip for Christmas to see her sister in Atlanta. She was always talking about how she’d love to see her. Stacking a thick slice of ham with the Colby and a little mayonnaise, he moved the sandwich to a plate and threw on a few barbeque chips from the bag on the counter. Then, thinking he might as well do it properly, he grabbed a Coke from the refrigerator. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to the gym. It was definitely before the accident. Working all of the overtime and taking care of Ben took up all of his time. At least he got a workout trying to get his friend showered.
The doctor’s prognosis disappointed him almost as much as it had Ben. As much as he loved Ben and wanted to help get him back on his feet, he really wanted his life back. He hadn’t seen any of his friends, been out to dinner with Susan, or watched a movie in so long he felt like a different person. Over the last two months, he’d become a hermit, and he didn’t like it. Even though he was a geeky accountant, he still had a life. He finished off his sandwich and popped another chip into his mouth as he contemplated finding something on his Kindle app to read.
The list of books looked far less appealing than a nap. They still hadn’t made a decision about the promotion, but Jude still found himself pushing closer to twenty hours of overtime a week. He’d decided to go in earlier rather than staying later so he could be home for Ben in the evenings and not have to rely so heavily on Susan. She had a life to live too, and though she loved Ben, he didn’t want her to take time away from her new boyfriend, Juan. They deserved to have fun and be happy. He just wished he could find a way to find that for himself.
“No…. Julie, I’m coming…. Stop…. Leave her alone….”
Ben’s choked, anguished voice woke Jude from his light slumber on the couch. He sat up, noticing that Max had crawled up onto his legs at some point while he slept. Sweeping the little dog onto the couch, he listened for Ben’s voice. A cry had him off the couch and into the hall before he could blink. Ben thrashed in the bed, the blankets thrown to the floor in his agitation.
“No…. Fucking bastard…. Julie…. Please….”
Jude grabbed Ben’s shoulders as he sat on the bed next to Ben, who was in real danger of causing further damage to his knee by kicking out at the unseen attackers. Ben’s skin blazed under Jude’s fingers as he trembled hard.
“Ben, wake up. Ben,” he cried and was considering smacking Ben lightly in the face when Ben’s eyes flew open and he jerked into a sitting position. With a squeak of pain, he reached down and straightened out his knee at what must have been an explosion of fire. Ben’s teeth ground together as he sucked in deep hissing breaths. Jude jumped up, sprinted to the bathroom, and filled a little paper cup with cold water. When he returned, he held out a bottle of the painkillers the doctor had prescribed once they’d taken Ben off the morphine pump a few weeks before. Ben’s hands shook as he tried to get the bottle open.
“Here,” Jude offered as he took the bottle and set the cup on the bedside table. Ben’s face started to gain back a little of its color, and his breathing became less labored. He closed his eyes as Jude dropped two pills into his palm. Jude handed him the water and waited while Ben took both pills, willing away the pain from his friend—the pain in his knee and the pain in his heart.
It didn’t take long for Ben to lie back on the pillows with a glassy stare.
He fell back to sleep soon after.
Jude, however, wasn’t so lucky. The adrenaline still coursed through his system from the abrupt end to his afternoon nap. He’d just decided to go back out to the living room to read when he noticed Ben’s laptop sitting on the bed. With the way Ben was thrashing around earlier, Jude was surprised the machine hadn’t hit the floor. He got up and walked around the bed, quietly so he didn’t wake Ben. His thumb grazed the touch pad as he picked up the laptop and the screen came back to life. The image of a man bound on his knees caught his attention before he could close the lid, and he stared at the image, his heart beginning to race. He didn’t recognize either the man in the image or the man standing above him, though he’d half expected it to be Kage.
With a cursory glance to make sure Ben slept on, Jude carried Ben’s laptop to the living room and sat on the couch with it in his lap.
FetLife.
He didn’t recognize the site, but it looked like Ben was in some kind of inbox on the site with messages. As he read through the subject lines, he realized that each message had several things in common. They were all to men. They were all to guys that had “Dom” in their profile. As he clicked on each profile picture, he saw that they were all local. Worst of all, they were all inquiries from Ben looking for a new Dom. With his knee out of commission, how could he think of getting beaten or worse? How was he supposed to be on his knees for someone when one of his knees didn’t even work? It was fucking stupid.
Jude slammed the laptop lid and closed his eyes against the pain growing in his chest.
BEN DIDN’T know how long he’d slept. Darkness had crept in around the blinds, seeping into the corners of his room. He opened his eyes wider and sat up, trying to push away the last vestiges of drug-induced sleep. The dream came back to him, as it always did when he woke, Juliette’s bloody face staring at him with lifeless eyes. The doll stared down at him from her perch, accusing and judging him. His knee ached again as he swung
his legs off the bed and tried to stand. It took him three tries to get upright, grab his crutches where they rested against the dresser, and find his balance. Though he smelled something savory from the other room, silence loomed in the apartment.
The first few steps through the doorway into the hall took a little coordination, but he made it around the corner and found Jude in the kitchen at the stove. He stood shirtless in just a pair of jeans, and Ben couldn’t help it, his cock stirred. No sexual contact in nearly two months except his own hand coupled with the fine, muscled lines of Jude’s back tapering into a slim waist and gorgeous ass, just made him fucking throb. The sweats he wore didn’t afford him any modesty, so he turned, hiding the start of an erection with the door frame.
“Hey,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle Jude, who hadn’t turned around. Jude had to have heard him come down the hall—he sounded like a gimpish stampede. Still, Jude didn’t acknowledge that Ben stood just behind him. Two grilled cheese sandwiches browned in the heavy griddle on the stove. On the next burner, tomato soup heated in another pan. Rather than saying anything to Ben, Jude simply turned and grabbed another stack of bread from the package and started to butter them.
“Jude, are you okay?”
“I don’t want to talk to you right now. Go in the living room and I’ll bring you dinner.” The quiet monotone startled Ben. Jude sounded angry or depressed, but he couldn’t figure out what he could have done. Unless Jude was upset about the dream, but it wasn’t like Ben could control his dreams. God knows he wished every single day that he could. Not wanting to upset Jude further, Ben hobbled across the floor and around the end of the couch. He nearly sat on his laptop on the end of the couch. Instead, he fell down onto the middle cushion then reached over to grab the machine. The screen whirred to life and Ben saw his FetLife inbox. All of the messages were marked as read though he didn’t recognize a couple of the messages in the list.
