Dr. Perfect: An MM Gay Romance

by Peter Styles

  Jason stared at me with a stunned expression, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “Why do you think you’re unworthy?”

  I laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. Just the same old misery I’d lived with all my life. “I’m too much of a coward to give you what you deserve. You can have it all. The fairytale and more. That’s the kind of guy you are. I’m nothing but a fraud. I make myself miserable, and I’ll make you miserable, too. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you or how much I want you. I’m greedy, like you said.”

  He scratched the bottom of Bill’s chin with a finger as he contemplated my words. Then, resolve settled on his face like a mask, hiding the little bit of sympathy I’d seen there before. “If your feelings had been strong enough for Dave, you would have found a way.”

  And now we were back to Dave. Jason had ever-so-neatly ignored the fact that I’d turned the focus to him and the conflicting feelings I had for him.

  “Maybe so. But I barely knew Dave. He was a crush, just like Tanner was for you.” I wanted to say something more. Something about how Jason was different, and that maybe this time I could really do it this time. For Jason, maybe I could do it.

  But I didn’t say those things because I didn’t know if I had the courage to make the words true. I’d failed Dave, but failing Jason would be much, much worse. I didn’t think I’d survive it. My feelings, which I’d barely admitted to myself, ran far too deep.

  Jason smirked and made a valiant effort to bring us back around to the comfortable place we’d been before our stroll down memory lane. “Maybe Dave and I should have been boyfriends, and you and Tanner could have fucked like rabbits while still insisting you were straight. That would have been a better scenario.”

  I sighed and stood to stretch my legs, sensing that our come-to-Jesus moment was over. I feared we were no closer to understanding each other than we’d been before, and hell, maybe the chasm between us had grown even wider.

  “I think I need one of those pills,” Jason said. The agitation was clear in his every movement as he pulled the bottle from his pocket and went into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water and used it to chase his medication.

  “Go lie down on the bed,” I told him, reaching out to massage his tense shoulders. “Try not to think about anything. You don’t have to go to work, and you don’t have any responsibilities while you’re here with me. I’ve got you.”

  He gave a weak smile and shuffled off to the bedroom. I went back to the sofa and pulled Bill onto my lap and did what I’d warned Jason not to do. I thought.

  I considered what Jason meant to me and what I might be willing to do to have him as more than a friend. I thought about David Ellis and what my declaration of love and sudden rejection afterward must have done to him. Jason had carried the same kind of rejection around with him since his freshman year in college, and I cringed to think I may have caused that kind of pain for poor, sweet Dave, whose only mistake was in believing I’d been man enough to pursue a relationship with him.

  I thought about Jason and his career. He had a lot more on his plate than just worrying about us and what our blossoming sexual relationship might mean. He had a malpractice suit hanging over his head, and I was just a bystander in the whole thing. I couldn’t possibly imagine what this must be like for him. The uncertainty and fear. And the guilt.

  Guilt. That word sent a rush of emotion crashing through me. Jason had nothing to feel guilty about. I knew that with certainty now, in the same way I knew the sun would come up tomorrow. Jason had done nothing wrong in the Morris Terwilliger case. He said he’d done everything right, and I believed him with my whole heart. Even the idea of him having uttered the wrong medication name to Jolene seemed ludicrous now. I’d worked closely with the man for a year and a half, and I knew every one of his quirks and habits. I knew how he performed under pressure—strong and sure and focused. To think our little argument had shaken him so much that he could have made a mistake like that was unthinkable.

  No, Jason had not made a mistake. So, what the hell had happened?

  As soon as I was sure Jason was asleep, I went into my small office down the hall, shut the door behind me. Jason had done everything right, and now it was my turn to do something right for a change. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Rosenfeld’s number.

  “Yes?” The older man’s voice came across the line after two rings, which meant he probably wasn’t too busy to talk.

  “You got a minute?” I asked.

  “Sure, Mark. What is it?”

  “I’m not going to be able to come into work for a few days.”

  There was silence, and for a moment I feared he’d hung up on me. When he spoke, his voice was guarded. “What’s going on, Mark? You’ve never called out once in over three years of working with me. Has something happened?”

  “Yes, it has, but it’s nothing you don’t know about. Jason isn’t doing so well with this Terwilliger mess. He needs a friend right now, and I’m the best one he’s got.”

  “So, what? You’re going to babysit him? I need you here, Mark. With both of you gone, I’m down two residents. I can’t afford to be that short-staffed.”

  “Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you forced Jason to take leave. He hasn’t ever called out, either. Work is his life, and without it, he’s just flapping in the wind.”

  Rosenfeld huffed. “I can’t have him in here possibly endangering other patients while we’re getting this all sorted out. And he’s not your responsibility. Let his family take care of him.”

  I shifted the phone to my other hand to air my sweaty palm for a moment before shifting it back again. I cracked my neck. “He hasn’t got any family here. It’s me or nobody, and I’m not going to leave him alone in this state.”

  “It’s not our problem he can’t handle the pressure, Mark.”

  “What?” I asked. “Jesus, could you possibly get any more callous? What the hell did Jason ever do to deserve this kind of treatment from you? When I first started working here, I got the impression you were a fair and impartial man, but lately I’m coming to realize I may have been wrong.”

  “Mark…” he said in a warning tone. I knew that tone. I’d heard him use it on other people, mainly Jason, but never on me. It chilled me to think that with all of the mistakes I had made over the years, Rosenfeld had never spoken to me that way.

  “We need to discuss something, sir.” I took a deep breath, knowing this was probably not going to end well for me but needing to do it anyway. “I’ve noticed that you don’t treat Jason the same as you treat me. It makes me feel uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable? What do you mean, uncomfortable?”

  I pressed on. “Well, I feel like you give me a lot more leeway at work. And you praise me unduly while practically ignoring Jason’s contributions.”

  Rosenfeld sighed irritably. “Jason isn’t the doctor you are, Mark. You’re a different caliber—”

  “You’re right,” I interrupted. “Jason is a better doctor than I am.”

  The chuckle that came over the line made me want to run my hand through the phone and choke the smug bastard. “I understand you want to take up for your friend. Loyalty is yet another of your admirable traits. But, as I’ve warned you before, please don’t allow that loyalty to get you into trouble.”

  “I don’t care,” I growled. “You want to fire me, fine, but I can’t stand by and watch you shortchange a great doctor. I’m asking you to please be conscious of how you treat Dr. Whitham in the future. Pay attention to what he’s doing and give him credit where credit is due. That man whose son overdosed recently—the one who thought I ought to be nominated for something… He wasn’t talking about me, Dr. Rosenfeld. He was talking about Jason. I was standing around with my thumb up my ass while Jason was figuring out what was wrong with him and taking care of the family. All I did was administer some Narcan and monitor his vitals until he could go home. Oh, and I charted. Took credit for everythin
g. Jason was right to be upset that day in Terwilliger’s room. Somehow I end up taking all the credit for his good work, and he consistently gets overlooked. I’m sure that gets pretty frustrating after a while, especially when his future depends on his performance during his residency.”

  “I don’t think that’s how things are,” Rosenfeld said. “I don’t think that’s what I do.”

  “Well, you’re wrong. We’ve all been wrong. I’m not judging, and I know you haven’t done it on purpose, but I’d like for things to change moving forward.”

  Rosenfeld cleared his throat. “If that even matters, Mark. You know what Jason is facing with this Terwilliger thing.”

  “And I want him cleared of that, too. He’s innocent, Dr. Rosenfeld. I don’t know how to prove it, but I know it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Jason Whitham is innocent.”

  “I have a vial of Dilaudid confiscated from the pharmacy that says otherwise. The morphine was given, and the Dilaudid was returned. I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do about this, Mark. Jason is going down. I don’t like it any more than you do, but that’s how it is. Now about this leave of absence you’re requesting—”

  “I’m taking it,” I said before he could try to talk me out of it. “I’m going to take a few days’ vacation and give Jason the support he needs during the toughest days he’s ever faced. It’s not negotiable.”

  Rosenfeld let out the loudest, most annoyed sigh I’d ever heard. The man was pissed. “Do what you have to do, Mark, but I can’t promise you this won’t come back on you. Just because you’re my favorite resident doesn’t mean I can look the other way on everything.”

  I gave a mirthless laugh. “And you just made my point. Think about what you just said, and we’ll talk when I get back.”

  I hung up the phone and sat there in the gloom of dusk. It was almost time to turn on the lights in the apartment, but I wasn’t in the mood for light. I went into my bedroom instead and, like a creeper, watched Jason sleep for a while.

  16

  Jason

  I woke up refreshed to the smell of bacon and eggs. Well, burnt bacon and overcooked eggs, but I figured Mark was in the kitchen, so it was no surprise. I hurried into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then headed into the kitchen.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Mark said with a huge smile. “I hope you’re hungry.” He was shirtless in a pair of ripped jeans, and my mouth watered.

  “Starving,” I admitted, though with him standing there looking like a slab of hot doctor meat, it wasn’t necessarily food I was craving.

  Mark stared down at the platter of breakfast on the table, and his brow furrowed adorably. “I may have cooked this stuff a little too much.”

  I laughed. “It’s fine. If I were at home, I’d be having toast and jelly, so this is a feast to me.”

  Mark’s smile came back. “Great.” He made me a cup of coffee and set it down in front of me.

  I appreciated the effort he’d gone to. The dishes were all laid out on the table with silverware and napkins, and we each had a small glass of orange juice flanking our plates.

  “Thanks, Mark. This is really awesome of you.” Then a thought occurred to me, and I looked up at him in alarm. “Shouldn’t you be at work right now?”

  He shrugged. “I took a few days off. Wouldn’t be the same without you there.”

  “Shit, man. Rosenfeld let you do that?”

  “He didn’t have a choice.”

  “But was he okay with it?” I took a swig of orange juice, feeling the liquid seeping into every pore of my dehydrated body.

  Mark sort of smiled and winced at the same time and scrubbed his fingers along the sexy stubble at his jaw. “Not really, but like I said, he didn’t have a choice. I told him I was spending a few days with you.”

  I cringed. “Great. He’s going to hate me even worse now.”

  Mark lowered himself into the chair opposite me and spooned eggs onto his plate. Then he piled a few slices of bacon on top. He crunched into a piece of a nearly-black strip of pork and grimaced. “Rosenfeld is not going to be a problem. I made sure of that. I kind of called him out on being an asshole to you.”

  “You did what?” I nearly choked on the bite of eggs I was chewing.

  Mark shrugged and opted to ignore my question. He raked me with his dark eyes instead. “You look good this morning. I like the bedhead look on you, especially when you’ve been in my bed.”

  I looked away, suddenly feeling shy. Why did he insist on saying things like that to me? After more than a year of nothing but friendship, he now seemed determined to flirt with me every chance he got. I knew it couldn’t go anywhere, but damn if it didn’t feel good to pretend for a while.

  Since the incident in the bakery the day before when he’d goaded me into licking icing off of his lips in the middle of the dining room, and then the blowjob that followed, we’d had no physical intimacy. I wondered if that would be it for us, especially after our conversation the night before.

  I considered the facts. Mark was in the closet with no plans of coming out. I was out and looking for something serious. I sighed to myself. Nope. There was no way this would work between us. I still planned on having sex with him if he wanted me, but I was waiting for something before that happened. I supposed it would have been wise to just go ahead and get it over with since there was no hope of a serious relationship. It was just sex, after all, and I was going to have to bite the bullet and do it at some point.

  Maybe we could just be friends with benefits. Hell, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Fucking my best friend for as long as it was convenient? I could still keep my eyes open for something real, but until then I could enjoy all of the delights Mark’s body had to offer. At the moment, it seemed kind of like a win-win situation. There were much worse people to lose my virginity to than a man I cared about and found irresistibly attractive.

  Plus, Mark was safe with me. I’d never tell his secret.

  I shoveled a bite of eggs into my mouth, followed by a strip of bacon, and washed it all down with a steaming swig of coffee. The food may not have been the tastiest in the world, but it was nice being this way with someone. With him.

  “What are you smiling about?” Mark asked, gracing me with a smile of his own.

  “I was just thinking this is nice,” I admitted. “It’s hard to believe we’ve known each other for so long and have never shared moments like this. It feels… comfortable, doesn’t it?”

  “It does,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t mind having more of it, to be honest. It gets lonely around here with no one to talk to.”

  I chuckled. “Same. At least you have this nice place to be alone in. You know what my piece of shit apartment is like.”

  “Yes, I do. I think you should move out of there. It can’t be good for your mental status. I’d stay depressed if I had to live in a place like that. No offense. I just hate to see you living like that.”

  I shrugged. “I can’t afford better.”

  “Bullshit,” Mark said, startling me with his candor. “I know what you make, Jason, and unless you have a ridiculous amount of debt, there’s no reason you can’t find something nicer. I could help you.”

  “I don’t—” I shoved more food into my mouth to make up for my lack of words.

  Mark wasn’t going to let me off that easily, though. “You don’t what?”

  I set my fork down and gave up trying to hide the truth from Mark. After what I’d told him last night, it didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. If I wanted us to get to know each other, I was going to have to be honest. “I send most of my money back home. To my parents.”

  Not surprisingly, Mark gaped at me. “But I thought you didn’t get along with your folks. You haven’t told me much, but I thought at least I knew that much.”

  “I don’t get along with them. I mean, I’d like to, but they just don’t have much use for me since I came out my senior year of high school. My dad has been downright cruel about it, but I guess i
t’s hard to stop loving someone who raised you. Even after you find out they’re a grade-A asshole.”

  “Tell me about it,” Mark said, and an image of Lyla Johnson stalking around his apartment like the Queen of Sheba came to mind. I guess Mark really did understand what I was talking about.

  “My dad is sick. He’s got COPD pretty bad. It’s gotten to the point he has to have oxygen with him everywhere he goes. He can’t work, and Mom never worked a day in her life. She was one of those home moms, you know? Cooking and taking care of my sister and me. They can’t make it on their own.”

  “That sucks, J. I had no idea.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and I tried to ignore the bulge of his bare pecs and the way his biceps looked thicker in that position.

  I couldn’t help the way my body reacted to the sight of him. The way it had always reacted. Just that quickly, my parents were forgotten, and I was entranced by those strong muscles so proudly on display, and the layer of dark stubble that transformed Mark from respected doctor to bad boy overnight. It literally made my knees feel weak.

  Mark noticed my attention and leaned forward with a sexy smirk. “See something you like?”

  I laughed. “You’re such a cocky ass.”

  He shrugged, his pecs and biceps flexing deliciously. “I’m just making an observation. I’d suggest you take your shirt off, too, but I have plans for us today.”

  “You do?”

  “Yep. I’m taking you to my parents’ lake house for a couple of days. I figured it would be good for us to get away for a while.”

  I shook my head and followed Mark to the bedroom, where he had two duffel bags packed full of clothes and toiletries. He grabbed our toothbrushes and the toothpaste, sliding them into the coolest travel containers I’d ever seen. No Wal-Mart products for the Johnson family. They had shit the rest of us hadn’t even dreamed of yet.

  “I still can’t believe you called out on Rosenfeld. Are you sure that’s a good idea? It could have repercussions, you know.”