Cop Out

by KC Burn

  Simon elbowed him. “I’m glad you said it was stupid. When are you going to do it?”

  “Honestly, I’m afraid he’s not going to change his mind. With this operation coming up, I’d rather wait until after. If it doesn’t go well, I might have trouble keeping my head in the game.” But if it didn’t work out, if Davy truly was done with him, at least he knew he’d be able to go on. When he recovered from the blow, he’d jump back into dating—men, this time.

  They both sipped at their beer.

  “Hey, did you end up getting anything to eat?”

  “No.” Kurt’s stomach chose that minute to chime in.

  “C’mon, I think there’s a few burgers left.”

  By the barbeque, Simon quickly slapped a grilled patty on a hamburger bun and handed the plate to Kurt. “Basics are here—ketchup, mustard, relish. Everything else is inside.”

  Kurt set his beer on the table and reached past the Dijon mustard for the plastic yellow bottle behind it. Squeezy bottle in hand, he froze. Mustard. Oh, God. He remembered the discussions with Davy about mustard. He remembered the first time he’d had burgers at Davy’s house, with no mustard. Burgers at Lettie’s, where Davy handed him the mustard without asking if he wanted it. Mustard arriving with Davy’s homemade Greek burgers… mustard that Davy had bought and kept in his house just for Kurt, even though Davy hated the stuff. And that was only one of several instances where Davy had shown he cared what Kurt liked, cared about his preferences.

  The mustard was one of the little things he’d envied about the relationships his friends and family had. The silent dance couples did, communication, inside jokes, meaningful looks. Kurt had had all that with Davy, but hadn’t realized it. He’d thought it was only the best friendship he’d ever had, but he’d been in a relationship and didn’t know it. Davy maybe didn’t know it, either, which was probably why the introduction of their aggressive sex had thrown them both off stride. Neither of them had been ready to acknowledge the sudden shift in their comfort zone from friends to lovers. Hell, Davy probably hadn’t known until that night that Kurt was wavering in his sexuality, which maybe explained their vicious fight.

  Hope, true hope, filled the dark emptiness inside. Maybe his chance at happiness wasn’t so improbable after all.

  Simon looked at him, saw the huge grin stretching muscles Kurt hadn’t used in quite a while.

  “What?”

  “I just remembered something. Something that means maybe Davy cared about me too.”

  He got a snort in reply. “Hell, I knew he cared about you the night Jen and I met him. I just didn’t know you cared the same way. Jen did, though.”

  Surprise wiped his smile away. “Jen did?”

  “I didn’t really believe her, not until I heard it from you. Although I recognized how comfortable you were with him. And Jen said she’s started wondering after the Tiffany incident.” Simon lowered his voice and glanced around before he said the name Tiffany, in case she was within earshot.

  Huh. Strangely, that made him appreciate his friendship with Simon, and Jen, even more. Because they never questioned, never treated him differently, and Jen had even saved him from that woman at Mike’s birthday. Hell, women were friends with gay men all the time, or so TV seemed to say. She might have suspected long before he did. Made trying to hide himself from people who cared about him even more stupid.

  Two weeks. Two weeks and he’d talk to Davy. Maybe he’d get the chance to bring Davy over here or double date with Simon and Jen. Take Davy to one of his family’s raucous birthday celebrations.

  If things didn’t work, it would wreck him, but he couldn’t squelch the hope rising, and wasn’t sure he wanted to. Reminding himself of the mustard would get him through the next several days.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Flashing red lights strobed in Kurt’s eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The stretcher rattled as it hit the back of the ambulance, drawing a hiss from him. He wanted to shout, to cry, but the pain was so intense he barely had the air to breathe.

  “Careful with him,” Simon barked at the EMTs.

  Moisture leaked from his eyes.

  Simon climbed in beside him, and Kurt stared up at him from the gurney. His partner was the milky color of a cartoon ghost, splashes of blood stark against his blue shirt. A coppery scent warred with the antiseptic fumes in the back of the ambulance.

  “Hang in there, Kurt.”

  He tried to force a reply out, but his lungs, his throat failed to function. A pinch where the IV was inserted surprised him, mostly because he didn’t think he’d ever be able to feel anything but the gunshot wound. He didn’t want to die, but it felt like a cannonball had punched through his chest.

  “You’re going to be just fine,” the female EMT said. Probably meant to soothe him, but Kurt didn’t believe her. This wasn’t fine. He might never be fine. He was slowly suffocating in an ocean of pain.

  “Sssss….” Fuck.

  The vehicle went over a bump in the road, and he cried out.

  “Jesus, give him something for the pain!” Simon was pissed and scared. Which scared the fuck out of him. He reached out and tugged at Simon’s sleeve.

  Simon’s head swiveled down. “It’s okay, man, it’s okay.”

  Kurt opened his mouth and tugged the sleeve again.

  “Don’t try to talk.”

  He breathed out again, as best he could.

  “I’ve called your parents. They’re going to meet us at the hospital.”

  Kurt tried to shake his head, pulling on Simon. If only he could fucking say something.

  Simon leaned down. “What, man, what?”

  “Davy,” he breathed out. He wanted to see Davy, one last time.

  “Davy. I’ll call him, I promise. You worry about getting better, okay. You gotta be okay.” The hand Simon laid on his was as hot as a brand. But then, Kurt was freezing. Chills shook his frame, and Simon squeezed his fingers. Was this what bleeding out felt like?

  Then, as though he were looking through the wrong end of a telescope, Simon got very far away, before blackness fell.

  Kurt blinked, his eyes gritty and sore. He brought up a hand to rub at them, noticing the IV in his arm. Again. This was a habit he wasn’t fond of. A dim memory of the agony of getting shot returned. He blinked again. His breath came easily and there wasn’t any pain. If it weren’t for the IV and boring-ass hospital ceiling tiles, he’d have thought he was dead. He was amazed he wasn’t, actually.

  When the bullet hit, no one had realized there was anyone left in the gang that hadn’t fled or been arrested. And he’d been wearing his vest. Simon hadn’t even realized at first he’d been wounded. Kurt would find out soon enough what went wrong.

  A muted conversation was occurring to his right, and he shifted to see. And hissed. Fuck, there was the pain. This time, he only rolled his head, and even that caused an uncomfortable tug in his chest.

  His mom, dad, and Simon stood in a huddle. This was a really large room just for him—someone must have remembered his family from last time. He wondered where the rest of them were.

  Simon glanced over and nudged his mom.

  “Oh, baby. You gave us such a scare. Again. How are you feeling? Do you need me to get a doctor?” She pulled up a chair beside him and stroked his cheek.

  “I’ll go tell them he’s awake again,” Simon said. The ill-fitting T-shirt he wore, with a hospital logo, prompted a memory of blood spattering while Simon worked frantically to stem the bleeding. He mustn’t have gone home yet.

  His mom kissed his cheek, and his dad patted his arm gently. “Glad to see you awake, boyo.”

  “What time is it? What day is it?” His voice was rusty, but at least it worked. God, he didn’t think he’d ever been so scared as he’d been in that ambulance.

  “It’s ten in the morning. Wednesday. We sent the kids home last night, but Simon, your mother, and I stayed,” his dad replied.

  Only one day. Unless he’d been unconsciou
s for a week, but Simon would have gone home to change, if that were the case. Tuesdays were turning into bad luck days for him, injury-wise.

  “Oh, baby.” His mom started crying, and buried her face in his neck. “You were in surgery for hours. They almost lost you in the ambulance. Baby, you can’t let this happen again; my heart can’t take it.”

  Tears wet the hair at his nape, and as much as he wanted to hug her, he was afraid to move, afraid to spur that spike of pain back to life.

  “Deirdre, love, you’re soaking the poor boy.” His dad seated himself beside his mom, and he placed a comforting hand on both of them.

  Simon came back into the room. “The nurse said someone would be in shortly. Damn, it’s good to see you, Kurt.” He walked to the end of the bed.

  “What happened?” Simon would tell him what he needed to know. Because they’d been there for backup. In fact, there had been surprisingly little for them to do, even when the bullets started flying.

  “Are you sure you want to hear this now?”

  “Yes, please.” He was going to end up recuperating at his parents’ again. Goddamn.

  “What do you remember?”

  Kurt thought about it. “Aside from bits and pieces in the ambulance, I remember the sting going pretty much according to plan. They’d rounded everyone up, we were getting ready to leave. Then, I’m on my back, gasping for air.” The sky had been so blue and clear.

  “Right, well, they missed one. Most of the gang was in handcuffs, but two of the guys cornered the last gang member, and he shot at them. He got taken down, but not before a stray bullet caught you at a bad angle, entered your chest by the straps.” Simon swallowed heavily and looked up at the ceiling. “God. I turned around and you were on the ground, blood everywhere. Your lung collapsed in the ambulance. I thought… I thought that was it.”

  Someone gasped in the doorway. Everyone turned to look, and Kurt thought he was hallucinating.

  Davy. Skinnier than the last time Kurt had seen him, and pale. Eyelids swollen around bloodshot eyes. And below the fear was a tender expression Kurt had only dreamed of seeing.

  “You said to call him.” Kurt didn’t remember that, and he didn’t know why Simon wasn’t happy. If being shot meant Davy would come, he was almost grateful for the pain.

  “Davy. Glad you were able to finally make it.” Oh, Simon was pissed. He almost never took that sarcastic tone with anyone. His mom and dad stood, and Kurt saw them wondering if they needed to do something, like kick this stranger out.

  Davy smiled tremulously, but his gaze never left Kurt. “I was in Pickle Lake with my sister and her family. It’s an eight-hour drive into Thunder Bay. And by the time I got there, I’d already missed the last flight out yesterday.”

  “Pickle Lake? Oh, yeah, actually you made good time. Sorry. Just, you said you’d be right in….”

  “Well, I panicked.” Davy stepped further into the room, edging closer to the bed, clearly unsure of his reception.

  Kurt lifted his hand toward Davy, who came closer, but not close enough. “Mom, can Davy sit there for a minute?”

  She stared at Kurt, long and hard, before she turned to Davy. “Come sit, Davy, was it? We’re going to wait outside for the rest of my brood. When they get here, they’ll keep Kurt company while we have a little chat.”

  “Mom! Leave him alone.”

  “He’s the one, isn’t he? He’s the one that….”

  Davy followed their interaction like he was watching a tennis game.

  “Mom, stop, please.”

  “Well, I think I have a right to know the man my baby’s in love with.”

  Everyone gasped this time. Trust his mom to figure out how to embarrass the fuck out of him. He hadn’t intended to pressure Davy; he just wanted to bask in his presence. Davy stood frozen, and Kurt was half-afraid he’d run out before they had a chance to talk.

  “Out, Deirdre. Let the boys talk.” His dad ushered his mom out of the room, and Simon followed, but turned back.

  “If you need anything, Kurt, just holler.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Kurt answered. Unless of course, Davy did run. He’d have Simon run after him and drag him back.

  The door closed behind them, and like a spell had been broken, Davy rushed to Kurt’s side and grabbed his hand.

  “I… I….” Tears fell from those reddened eyes, wetting his hand. “I’m so sorry, Kurt.”

  “I’m sorry too.”

  Davy fidgeted, patting the sheets, his arm, stroking his fingers.

  “Sit, please.”

  Davy sat, and threaded his fingers through Kurt’s. “I guess we need to talk, but this probably isn’t the time.”

  An echo of that scary, breathless, helplessness he’d experienced in the ambulance returned. Having to talk was never a good thing. Suddenly he wondered what Simon had said to Davy to get him to come. Was Davy here only because Kurt had asked for him on what felt like his deathbed? A fulfillment of a dying man’s request? How fucking awful. Because when he’d seen Davy in the door, he’d thought it was all going to work out. But Davy hadn’t even mentioned his mom’s big revelation. Maybe he didn’t care.

  “Please. Just say it. I don’t want to wait. If you want out of my life for good, just say it. Make it a clean break.” Kurt stared at Davy’s ear, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes.

  The monitor beside his bed blipped just a bit faster, and Davy glanced at it before looking closely at Kurt.

  “We still need to talk. Later, not less than twenty-four hours after you got shot. But I don’t want out of your life. I want… to be more in it.”

  Kurt took a chance and shifted his gaze. He hadn’t imagined the tenderness he’d seen in Davy’s eyes earlier. “Really?”

  “If you want it, too, that is.”

  Kurt nodded. “Please.”

  Davy leaned over and kissed him, lips as sweet and soft as he remembered, returning the missing piece of Kurt’s soul.

  Davy lifted his head.

  “More,” Kurt said.

  Laughing through fresh tears, Davy shook his head. “Call it incentive to get better.”

  Kurt’s eyelids started drooping.

  “You need your rest. I’m going to talk to your mom, I guess. I can’t… I can’t believe you told her about me.”

  “Well, I didn’t tell her everything.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “Simon, though….”

  Davy turned horrified eyes on him. Kurt nodded, and wanted to laugh, but knew it would hurt like fuck.

  “I can’t believe… wait… you told him everything? You came out to him too?”

  Yeah, Davy was right. They did need to talk, but he was too fucking tired to do it now.

  “Um… I’m going to let you sleep now, but, did she mean it? I mean… do you….”

  Kurt didn’t hear the end of the question.

  When he next woke, Davy was seated beside him again—or still—and asleep, his dark head tucked in and sharing a corner of Kurt’s flat-ass pancake pillow. The scent of lemongrass overcame the hospital antiseptic, and he smiled. Thai food was on the agenda in the near future. As much as he liked Thai, he hadn’t been able to eat it since Davy had left. He shifted experimentally, and while the tug in his chest was still there, it didn’t seem quite as painful as before. His movements alerted Davy, who lifted his head and smiled sweetly at Kurt. Those dimples were so dear, and so utterly lickable. Soon, he’d give in to that urge.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “A little better.” Maybe more than a little. His mind wasn’t as foggy, although that might change as soon as he was given more drugs. “How was your talk with my mom?”

  “Good, actually. Short, though. She sent me home to get some sleep, and by the time I got back here, everyone had gone home for the night.”

  “Did my brothers give you a hard time?”

  “Didn’t see them. They must have come between my visits.”

  Kurt was assuming they came, al
though he sure as hell hadn’t been awake for any of it.

  “What time is it?”

  Davy twisted his wrist to look at his watch. “Almost midnight.”

  Midnight? The lighting never seemed to change in the hospital. Bright as high noon, all the time. “Not that I’m not glad you’re here, but how come they let you stay?”

  Cheeks coloring a little, Davy looked down. “Your mom told them I was family.”