Blue Collar

by Sean Michael

"I try. For you I try." Barton drove up to the house and parked. "Okay, let's get you out of the car and into the house. Food, drugs, and holding."

  "I...I don't know how. Barton, how am I going to get in?"

  "We get you standing and I'll carry you in, carry you up to our bed."

  "I'm sorry. God, Barton, I'm so sorry." He was so much trouble.

  "Stop that right now. You have nothing to apologize for."

  Kendall couldn't breathe. He couldn't. He was going to lose it.

  Barton grabbed the food and his stuff and put it inside, then came around and opened his door. "Okay. I'm just going to help you swing your legs around and tug you up."

  He moved around, trying to get the casted leg out of the car without hitting it.

  Barton was right there, helping. "Not the best vehicle for someone with a cast."

  "Two casts." He stood, swaying on one leg.

  "You don't do things by half." Barton winked and then picked him up, one arm behind his shoulders, the other behind his legs. "Let me get you upstairs."

  "Don't fall. Please."

  "I'm not going to fall. I've got precious cargo here."

  He tried not to tense, not to fall apart. To trust.

  Barton got him all the way upstairs without even a hint of dropping him, and he was settled on the bed, pillows behind him, one under his leg and another under his arm. "Are you comfortable?"

  "I think so." He was throbbing. Everywhere.

  "Okay. Food and meds." Barton opened a few containers and put a plastic plate on his lap, a fork in his good hand. "I know how you like the cappelini with alfredo."

  "I do." He tried to make his left hand work, but it wouldn't do anything.

  Barton took his own fork and twirled it in the pasta, then held it up to Kendall's mouth.

  His cheeks burned. "I'm sorry."

  "Are you kidding? You do remember how much I love feeding you, right?"

  The words eased the shame, erased it, and let him open up. Barton slipped the forkful into his mouth and it tasted amazing. Barton always fed him the best food.

  "Oh, God. That's good."

  Barton took a forkful for himself. "Oh yeah. I love the garlic in their alfredo."

  Another bite was offered to him. He ate, then Barton gave him a pill and a drink of Coke. Then another bite.

  "There's cannoli if you have a couple more bites."

  "We're going to have to get my truck. I don't... God, I'm tired."

  "Is it at the garage?"

  "Yeah. Yeah, the ambulance took me to the hospital." He'd never been in an ambulance before.

  "I can arrange to have it brought back here." Barton popped another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

  He moaned low, enjoying the hell out of the flavor.

  "Watching you eat always makes me hard."

  He reached out with his left hand, squeezed Barton's arm. Barton smiled and it suddenly went soft, almost sideways. Oh, the drugs had kicked in. Barton grabbed the takeout container as it tilted.

  "Let me get you a bite of that cannoli before you pass right out on me here."

  "Uh-huh. Stay with me, man. I don't know how to get to the bathroom if I need to."

  "I'm not going anywhere, baby. I swear."

  A piece of cannoli was popped into his mouth. Then Barton cleared the containers away. He wanted to ask Barton to stay again, but he didn't have to, Barton already moving to lie with him.

  At some point Barton pulled his boot off, chuckling softly. "I'll have to cut the rest of your jeans off, when you're more awake." Rubbing his upper thigh, Barton whispered in his ear. "It could be a lot of fun."

  "K...kinky."

  "You hope, anyway."

  "Uh-huh." He thought. Maybe.

  Barton kissed him and he floated there. Finally, blessedly, he could rest. Safe.

  Home.

  * * * *

  Barton had cleaned up everything, made sure Kendall was comfortable and he had some grapes and Ken's pills handy. Then he curled up carefully next to Ken again, making sure not to bump his lover at all.

  The fury at what had happened kept him awake for a while, but at last he managed to drift off.

  He felt Ken flail, heard him moan. It had him up right away and he petted Ken's belly, stroked it. "I'm here, baby."

  "I have to pee."

  "Oh, that's easy, baby. I've got a bottle here." He grabbed the empty bottle he'd brought up and started undoing Ken's jeans.

  "What?" Kendall panicked, still mostly caught in his pain pills.

  "Shh. Shh. Easy love, This'll be way easier than getting up."

  "I hurt. Someone pushed me. I hurt and I smell bad."

  "I know, baby, I know. One thing at a time, yeah? Have some cannoli or some grapes and another pain pill. Then we'll help you pee." No way he was hurting Ken more by attempting a sponge bath tonight.

  "Were you sleeping? Is it morning?"

  "I was, but it's okay. And no, it's not morning--it's the middle of the night." He got the sweet and held it up to Ken's lips. "Have a bite."

  Kendall opened, eyes unfocused, bruises beginning to show. It made him so fucking mad. He wanted to go to the garage and beat those responsible to death, and then sue their estates for every penny and then some.

  "I really need to pee. Help me get to the bathroom?"

  Barton grabbed the bottle. "You're hurting bad, baby. Please just pee in this."

  "So embarrassing." Still, Ken did it.

  "We all pee and this way you don't have to hurt."

  He dealt with the bottle, rinsed it. They needed a wheelchair or something for a couple of days for sure. He made a mental note to deal with it tomorrow, wondering if he should have one of those stair chairs put in. This was when it was awkward to have a three-story home.

  He had Ken take another bite of the cannoli and gave him his pain pill. Ken took it, then leaned in, fingers moving in the cast.

  Barton wrapped an arm around his lover as best as he could. "If you can get back to sleep, you should."

  "Uh-huh. Just want to be with you."

  "I'm not going anywhere." He'd sent an email, letting everyone know he was taking a couple of personal days but would be available for emergencies.

  "Thanks. Thank you. I'm sorry."

  God, he hated that Kendall felt like he had to keep apologizing. "Stop that, Kendall. You don't need to apologize."

  "I feel like I should."

  "Why? What did you do to me that needs an apology?"

  "I...I've been trouble."

  Barton snorted. "I don't think so."

  "Good. I want you to still like me."

  "Baby, I love you. Through and through."

  Ken was stoned out of his mind, head bobbing. So Barton stroked Ken's head, soothing him, easing him. "Go back to sleep, baby."

  "It's going to be okay, right?"

  "It's going to be just fine. I promise you--it'll all work out in the end." He was going to make sure those assholes paid for what they'd done.

  "Uh-huh. Love. I don't want to go in tomorrow."

  "That's okay because you're not." He would, though. He'd go and get Ken's truck and see exactly how big of an asshole the garage owner was, Ken's coworkers. He wasn't scared, damn it. Of course grabbing a couple of friends who spent a lot of time at the gym to go with him wasn't the worst idea he'd ever had.

  "You're 'kay." Ken moaned, then started snoring again.

  "I am, baby. We both are." He petted his sleeping lover's belly.

  They were going to be fine.

  He couldn't say the same for the asshole who'd pushed Kendall and the other assholes who'd let it happen.

  Chapter 11

  Kendall managed to get down to the main floor, to the kitchen. He was pretty sure Barton was grabbing his truck. In fact, that sounded like his truck coming up the drive. Along with Barton's car. Cool.

  He grabbed the peanut butter, a couple pieces of bread.

  "I think he's got a case if the owner keeps backing t
he pusher. I'd be happy to do it for a percentage of the settlement, Bart."

  The door closed.

  "That would be awesome. Let me just check on him. There's beer in the fridge."

  "I'm in here, man." And he was in his underwear.

  "What?" Barton came storming in. "What the hell? How did you get down here?"

  "I'll just check out your patio," called Barton's friend.

  "I hopped down the stairs. Did you get my truck?"

  "Yes, I got your truck. Why the fuck did you hop down the stairs? You're supposed to be in bed!" Barton wrapped around him with a hug. "And you're freezing."

  "I was hungry. Who's your friend?"

  "Dorian Carter. He's a lawyer."

  "Oh. I should find pants. Somewhere."

  "They're upstairs. I'll go get them. You need to not overdo it." Barton glared a little.

  "I wanted a sandwich."

  "You knew I wasn't going to be long." Barton shook his head and hugged Ken tight. "Never mind. I'll get the clothes and help you to the couch. Dore thinks you might have a case."

  "A case of what?"

  "A legal case. Suing the garage."

  "We can't do that, can we? I mean, they'll say it's an accident. I don't have proof."

  "If it was an accident then the owner and the guy who pushed you were negligent. You were also sent to the hospital without anyone going with you and no one tried to call me." Barton shook his head. "Add all that to your experience the last few weeks..."

  "Yeah. I. I don't know..." He wasn't sure. He didn't have cash.

  "Let me get your clothes and you can hear Dorian out." Barton kissed him and headed upstairs.

  Kendall ate his sandwich, then hopped to get a glass, the milk.

  "I didn't even ask how you're feeling," Barton said, handing him his jeans and a T-shirt.

  "Barton, how do I get these on?"

  Barton considered him. "I have a utility kilt somewhere. I'll find it, you do the T-shirt." Barton disappeared again.

  "A skirt? Grab my workout shorts!" he shouted up the stairwell.

  "It's a kilt," Barton called back.

  "No skirts!"

  "Kilt!"

  "No!" He was laughing now, hard.

  A few minutes later Barton came down, wearing a leather skirt. "This is a utility kilt, Sexy isn't it?" Barton made a circle for him, tight T-shirt showing off every muscle.

  "Did you bring my shorts?" Okay, that was hot. Even if he didn't want to admit it.

  "Nope." Barton handed over a matching skirt. "Same as mine, only in khaki. I won't even ask you to wear it traditional style. Like I am."

  Barton flashed up the front of the utility kilt, all his junk dangling in the breeze.

  "Barton!" Oh, God. God. Barton was going commando. In a skirt!

  "What? I said you didn't have to." Barton moved up to him, holding the kilt open. "Put your hands on my shoulders and use me for support as you get your legs in here."

  "I... Lord." He managed it, if not gracefully.

  Barton closed and belted the kilt, then stepped back. "Damn, baby. If you weren't on the disabled list, I would jump your bones right here, right now."

  "Yeah. I need to figure out whether this wrist can hold me on the crutches."

  Barton looked doubtful, but he was given a hug. "You look hot, baby. Now let's go rescue Dorian from the back."

  "'Kay." He hopped over to the table.

  Barton went out and got his friend, introducing him when they got back to the kitchen.. "Dorian, this is my lover Ken. Ken, Dorian."

  "Hey." Oh, God. No one had ever introduced him like that...

  Dorian shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. Sorry you were hurt."

  "Me, too." It had sucked, but he was healing, right?

  They all sat at the table, Dorian sitting across from him and Barton. "So, Ken, tell me what happened in as much detail as you can."

  "I was repacking ball bearings in the wheel of a '66 Corvette Stingray and the guys--you know how guys are. Always teasing." Asking him if he was a fudge packer, if he was going to start decorating the shop. "I was on the ground and I felt a shove, then I was in the bay. I tried to catch myself, but I couldn't."

  "What kind of teasing?" Dorian asked.

  "You know--you're a fudge packer, gay stuff."

  "So they've been harassing you because you're gay," Dorian clarified.

  Kendall could hear Barton's teeth grinding together. "I haven't admitted it. I don't want any trouble, but they know."

  "Then you have a case. We can sue them, get you some money so you don't have to work."

  "But... I'll never get another job in the field, man. Never." And that's if someone didn't just kill him.

  "I've got some ideas about that." Barton looked excited. "You could open your own garage, hire a couple of gay or gay friendly mechanics. It would be great to have a place to go where we knew we were welcome."

  Dorian nodded. "I'll second that."

  "Is that even possible?" He couldn't even imagine.

  Barton and Dorian shared a look and his lover pulled up closer, put a hand on his arm. "Anything is possible. Anything. And I'm here to help you achieve whatever you want."

  "I...I'll need to think, talk to..." Barton about it.

  Dorian sat forward, intent. "You've got time, but the sooner we get this filed, the better."

  "Surely we can have a day," Barton asked.

  "Of course." Dorian nodded. "And you don't have to worry about payment. I'll take a percentage of whatever you win."

  "You rock. I...I just need to think without the drugs." It all seemed a little unreal right now.

  "Of course. I know it's not easy to be out, man. I know. But there's a freedom to not hiding, too." Dorian was pretty earnest.

  "I was raised that it was bad, you know?" Shameful.

  "Yeah, me too. And when I came out I got kicked out onto the street. It isn't bad, though. And you didn't deserve to have this happen because you're gay."

  He looked down, unsure as hell about what to do, what to say. He wasn't used to being open with anyone but Barton. But Dorian acted like it wasn't a big deal, like it was just normal.

  Barton's hand slid across his shoulders and rubbed.

  "I know a good guy to talk to, if you need to work stuff out." Dorian wrote a name and phone number for him. "This is a good community, Ken. And we look out for our own."

  "Thank you." God, he was part of a community?

  Then Dorian took the card he'd written the psych guy's name and number on and turned it over. "That's me. Call if you have any questions. Call when you're ready to tell me you want to sue those assholes."

  "Thank you." He reached out to shake with his casted hand and Dorian stood and hugged him, squeezing him tight and he looked at Barton.

  Barton just smiled, looking pleased. Kendall hugged Dorian, patting the man carefully.

  Dorian stepped back and gave Barton a quick hug, too. "I can see myself out. You two take care of each other."

  Kendall stared at the table, at the card. Had he just made a friend?

  "You okay, baby?"

  "Yeah. Yeah, I'm cool." He thought.

  "There's leftover Dinoli's in the fridge. How about we finish the rest of it?"

  "Sounds good. I could eat more." He could eat, then maybe take another pill and watch a movie through his eyelids.

  "That makes me happy." Barton got up and set the table for the two of them, putting food in the microwave and pouring him a glass of milk. He drank deep, the milk soothing him deep inside.

  As soon as the food was out of the microwave, the place smelled amazing, making his mouth actually water. His belly snarled violently, like it was trying to escape, despite the peanut butter sandwich he'd snarfed down.

  "Eat, baby. Then pain pills and a movie or something, yeah?"

  "You read my mind." He ate awkwardly, using his stupid hand.

  "You let me know if you want me to feed you again." Barton waggled his eyebrows.
<
br />   "I'm going to go crazy by the time six weeks is up."

  "I bet you become an expert using your left hand." Barton always believed he could do anything.

  His brain went to a truly dirty place and he started chuckling.

  "What?" Barton demanded.

  "Huh? Nothing. Nothing."

  "And now your cheeks have gone all red. It was something dirty."

  "Me?" Jacking off wasn't that bad, was it?

  "I hope so. I hope I was in those dirty thoughts, too." Barton leaned in and kissed his nose.

  "You're in all my thoughts, somehow."

  "Excellent!" Barton looked honestly pleased.

  Grinning, Kendall managed another bite.

  Barton passed him a couple of pain pills, along with two cannoli. "These are the last ones."

  "Then share with me."

  "You won't have to ask me twice." Barton put one end in his own mouth, then leaned forward, offering him the other end.

  "Dork." He couldn't stop laughing. God, Barton made him happy, made everything else seem unimportant somehow.

  Smiling, Barton managed to keep the cannoli in his mouth. He wasn't backing off either.

  "I don't know..." Still, Kendall leaned forward and took a careful bite off the end.

  Chuckling, Barton took a bite and grabbed the rest up before it could fall onto the table. "Damn, these are better on day two."

  "They're good." He was wearing down. Tired.

  "Well, finish yours up." Barton handed him a bunch of pills. "Those are everything, including the pain pills. And I'll carry you back upstairs. No more hopping."

  "Can't I just stay down here? I can nap on the sofa."

  "I suppose we could sit together on the couch. But I'm carrying you upstairs for bedtime this evening."

  "I just want to relax, you know. My brain hurts." His soul hurt. He didn't even know if he had a job. Or if he was going to sue the garage. God.

  "Come on then, baby. Let's get you relaxed and easy again." Standing, Barton bent and picked him up from his chair, carrying him into the living room.

  "You're going to hurt your back." How hot was that? That Barton could carry him around like that.

  "I'll be careful, I promise."

  Barton wasn't even puffing when he laid Kendall out on the couch. "Now what do you feel like watching?"

  "Something I don't have to think about."

  "Die Hard, the original." Barton went and put the movie into the player, came back to sit with him.