Chapter Twelve
“Oh, fuck.”
Doug shut off his alarm then limped to the bathroom. His back throbbed with tiny spasms, causing excruciating pain. After he peed, he pulled up his shirt and checked the mirror. A long, horizontal bruise stretched across his lower back, purple and swollen. He pressed his fingers against it and winced.
Ambling back to his bedroom, he called in to work, telling them he had to take a sick day. He took ibuprofen, then rested on the couch for an hour, watching morning shows. But he couldn’t get comfortable, and even with the pain medicine, his back still throbbed. He started to get nervous, wondering if he’d cracked a rib.
Finally, he gave in and called his brother.
“What’s up, Dougy?”
“Hi,” he said. “Are you working today?”
“Uh, yeah, but I can get someone to switch with me if you need something.”
Doug closed his eyes. “Do you think you can run me to the hospital?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I hurt my back. Went out last night and there was...an altercation. I got tossed against a car.”
“Oh my God,” Wyatt said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, just hurts, I want to make sure there’s nothing serious. It’s probably just bruised, but walking isn’t a lot of fun right now. Neither is lying down. Or breathing.”
There was a long pause, then Wyatt said, “This wasn’t a gay thing, was it?”
Doug opened his eyes. “What?”
“It wasn’t a gay bashing, was it?”
Doug fell into giggles, then winced as his back complained. “No, Wyatt. A gay man bashed me into a car. But I don’t think that counts as a gay bashing, per se.”
“Oh. Well, shit. Okay. I have to call someone to take my shift, but I’ll be over, hang tight.”
“Thanks, man.”
Doug managed to get himself into a presentable pair of running pants, with a tee shirt and sneakers before Wyatt arrived a half hour later.
“I parked behind your car out back,” Wyatt said. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure, we can go out the back door,” Doug said. “I’m ready.”
Doug walked gingerly behind his brother out of the apartment, locking the back door behind him. Wyatt held his arm as they went down the porch steps, and that’s when Corey pulled into the driveway, glancing at them as he parked.
“Oh great,” Doug hissed. “Last person I want to see.”
Wyatt glanced at Corey’s car, then led Doug to his own, opening the passenger side. Doug lowered himself into the seat.
“Doug, you okay?” Corey asked, stepping out of the garage.
“Yeah,” he said.
Corey approached, scowling down at him. “What’s the matter?”
“My back,” he said.
Corey bent over, peering at Doug through the open passenger door. “From last night?”
“Yes, Corey. From last night,” Doug said. “We’re heading to the hospital, so if you don’t mind...”
“Hi, I’m Doug’s brother, Wyatt.”
Corey straightened up. “Hi, I’m Corey. You taking him to the doc’s?”
“Yeah, we’ll get him fixed up,” Wyatt said. “I believe you and I have met before, actually. We were in pathology class together.”
Corey’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Wow, I’m not sure I remember you. But that was another life.” He chuckled. “One I’ve tried very hard to forget.”
“We had a mutual friend, Becca Wong?”
“Right! Becca. I do remember her. Super nice girl.”
“Yeah, she’s great. We still talk once in a while.”
“So what are you doing now, you practicing?” Corey asked.
“Yeah, I work at the clinic down—”
“Wyatt!” Doug snapped, glaring up at him. “Me. Pain. Now.”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry.” Wyatt shuffled around the car and got in, starting the engine.
“Feel better, Doug,” Corey said. ”
“Bye.” Doug pulled the door closed.
He stared out the passenger side window as they pulled out of the driveway, scowling. Irritation tapped his temples. He needed to meditate, badly. He was letting things get to him, and it wasn’t just the pain in his back.
“Corey looks good,” Wyatt said as they drove to the hospital. “More...mature than I remember. And he still has great hair, the bastard. Sure as hell aging better than I am.”
Doug grunted.
“He seems nice,” Wyatt said. “I didn’t expect him to be nice, not after everything you said about him.”
“Wyatt.” Doug closed his eyes. “The last thing I need to hear right now is how nice Corey is. Okay?”
Wyatt glanced at him. “Sorry. So you gonna tell me how this happened to your back?”
“It doesn’t matter. I appreciate you taking me today. Let’s just...get it over with.”
“You’re getting grumpy again,” Wyatt said.
“I’m in pain.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason? You’re not still sleeping with Corey’s boyfriend, are you?”
“No.”
“Well, good. Because that would be fucked up.” He glanced at Doug. “You were really rude to Corey just now. Kind of shocked me. I’ve never heard you be rude to anyone like that.”
Doug frowned, then looked at Wyatt. “Was I that rude?”
Wyatt chuckled. “Um, yeah. Made me a little uncomfortable, to be honest.”
“I guess I was rude. I don’t know. Corey’s usually giving me a hard time, I guess I just react instantly when I see him.”
“But he wasn’t giving you a hard time. He was asking if you were okay. He looked sincere.”
Doug stared straight ahead. “I don’t want to talk about Corey. A lot of shit’s happened. It’s weird, and complicated, and I don’t want to think about it.”
Wyatt was silent for a while, then as they pulled into the hospital lot, he said, “Whatever happened between you and those guys, you need to shake it off.”
Doug grunted again.
“I know you’re in pain right now, but it seems to me your personality is changing, and I don’t like seeing that. Don’t do that, Doug. Don’t let someone else turn you angry and unhappy. You’ve worked too hard to put the past behind you.”
They parked up, and Doug managed to climb out of the car on his own. Wyatt’s words struck him deeply, reiterating his bedtime thoughts from last night. He needed to get his focus back. Stewart and Corey, though he’d known them only a short time, had his head and his emotions in a tailspin. “You’re right,” he said quietly as they headed toward the hospital doors. “You’re right, Wyatt, and thank you for reminding me.”
Wyatt smiled at him. “See? Sometimes my meddling is on target.”
****
Three hours and much probing and prodding later, Doug and Wyatt were back in the car, heading home. “Oh wow,” Doug said, letting the warm spring breeze caress his face through the open window. “I feel great.”
Wyatt laughed. “I’m not surprised. Dr. Wallace shot you with enough painkillers to take down an elephant.”
Fortunately Doug had no broken ribs, just a severe contusion with a side helping of muscle spasms. And Wyatt was right, the doctor had shot Doug full of something that magically took his pain away, and left him feeling euphoric and sort of loopy, almost in a dream state. Colors were brighter, sensations more pleasant, and he suddenly found it ludicrous that he’d been feeling any stress earlier in the day. He knew it would wear off eventually, but for the moment he was enjoying it immensely.
“So we’ve picked up your prescriptions, stopped by the grocery store, is there anything else you need before we get back to your place?”
Doug smiled at Wyatt. “You’re an awesome brother. I love you.”
Wyatt laughed. “We should give you painkillers more often. Focus, Doug. Do you need anything else? We’re almost there.”
“No,” he said. “Wait, you got food? Oh right. We stopped, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, like ten minutes ago,” Wyatt said, chuckling. “I’m making you my specialty pizzas. I already called Beth, I’m gonna stay with you tonight.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Doug said. “You’ve done enough. I’ve just got a boo-boo, I can tend to myself tonight.”
“You’re all doped up, and I don’t want you forgetting you’re injured and lifting weights or something. Or drowning in the bathtub. I’m staying with you, so just shut up.”
“Okaaay,” Doug said. “Shutting up.”
They pulled up Doug’s long driveway and Wyatt parked in front of the garage. Doug twisted in his seat, looking behind him. Stewart sat on the back porch steps, cell phone to his ear, but he perked up when he saw the car, standing. Doug knew he was under the influence of happy painkillers, but Stewart had never looked so good to him. His wavy dark hair fluttered softly in the breeze, and he wore faded jeans with a tight green tee shirt that hugged his physique, making him look more muscular than usual.
“Who’s that?” Wyatt asked, glancing in the rearview mirror as he put the car in park.
“Stewart.”
“Oh that’s Stewart?” Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “Now I see what all the fuss is about. He’s striking.”
“Yeah,” Doug said softly. “He tastes good.”
Wyatt snickered. “What?”
Doug turned to him. “He looks good.”
“You just said he tastes good.”
Doug frowned, his head fuzzy. “I said that out loud?”
Wyatt grabbed the bags from the back seat, then smirked at Doug as he opened the door. “Hey,” he whispered. “Your inhibitions are a bit low right now. I’d suggest talking as little as possible.”
“Good idea.” Doug got out of the car and followed Doug to the porch.
“Hey,” Stewart said. “Corey said you went to the hospital. You okay?”
“Yeah, want to see my contusion?” Doug giggled, lifting up his shirt.
Stewart looked at his back. “Holy shit,” he said. “That looks painful.”
Doug lowered his shirt. “Not anymore.”
“Doug, give me your keys,” Wyatt said. Doug fished them out of his pocket and handed them over.
“Let me get your bags,” Stewart offered, and Wyatt turned and handed them to him.
“Thanks. I’m Wyatt, by the way. Doug’s a little out of it right now, so I won’t wait for an introduction.”
Stewart chuckled. “I’m Stewart.” He glanced at Doug. “You mind if I come in for a minute? I want to talk to you.”
Doug nodded, but kept his mouth closed, remembering Wyatt’s warning. His boundaries definitely felt lowered, and despite knowing he was angry at Stewart, despite his firm decision to cut him out of his life, he was tempted to tell Stewart just how much he loved the way that green tee shirt clung to his chest.
Once inside the apartment, Wyatt went into the kitchen and started unpacking the groceries. Stewart lingered in the living room with Doug, stealing glances at the kitchen. “Think we could talk somewhere more private?” he asked softly.
“Sure,” Doug said, trying not to stare at Stewart’s lips. “Hey Wyatt, I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Wyatt said. “Bring some pillows with you when you come out, we’ll get you set up on the couch.”
“Okay.”
Stewart followed Doug to his bedroom. Doug stretched back on the bed, the linens feeling extra soft against his body. He sighed heavily, feeling dreamy and nice. “You can sit down,” he said to Stewart. “I won’t bite. This time.”
Stewart grinned and sat on the edge of the bed. “Your back’s okay? Really?”
Doug nodded. “Nothing broken. Just bruised.”
“Well listen, Corey and I feel really bad about it. I feel bad about a lot of things, to be honest. I was thinking about what you said last night. And you’re right. I can see how my behavior might have seemed like me messing with your head. That wasn’t my intention, I swear. I got...caught up. Since I met you, I’ve just felt...” He shook his head. “I haven’t been thinking straight.”
Doug stared up into his eyes. “That makes two of us.”
Stewart rested a hand on Doug’s thigh. “Corey and I were talking, and he wants to offer you a free massage, once your bruise is healed or whatever. He’s really good at what he does, and it might help with the muscle pain.”
Doug sat up, propping his arms behind him. His euphoria ebbed a bit, and he scowled at Stewart. “That’s nice, but no thanks.”
Stewart looked surprised. “Why not? It could really help.”
“Because,” Doug said, leaning toward him. “Maybe I don’t want your manic, crazy, egomaniac, hooker boyfriend putting his hands on me. You ever think of that, Stewart?”
Stewart’s mouth fell open.
“Hey guys?”
They both turned and saw Wyatt in the doorway. Corey stood behind him, a deep frown creasing his brow.
Wyatt raised eyebrows at Doug. “Corey’s here.”
Corey stepped into the room. “Glad you’re feeling better, Doug. And for the record, I’m not a hooker.”
Doug looked back and forth between Corey and Stewart, the painkillers making him feel bold and unencumbered by his usual social filters. “Why are you guys always in my bedroom?” Doug snickered, and glanced at Stewart, who discreetly removed his hand from Doug’s thigh. “But I guess you’ve never been here at the same time before. That’s new.”
Corey frowned at Wyatt. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s on a heavy, heavy dose of painkillers,” Wyatt said. He frowned at Corey. “What happened to your eye, by the way?”
Corey’s black eye seemed hilarious suddenly, and Doug broke into giggles. “Corey got punched. It was loud.”
Wyatt sighed. “I don’t mean to be a hard ass, guys, but I’m gonna move Doug out into the living room now. You’re welcome to join us. But I think I need to monitor what comes out of my brother’s mouth.”
Wyatt went to Doug and helped him stand up, then grabbed the pillows and blanket off his bed. “Come on, Dougy,” Wyatt said. “You can play with your friends in the other room.”
They all moved to the living room and Doug got propped up on the couch with his pillows. Wyatt went back in the kitchen, and Corey paced in front of the couch. “What’s wrong, Corey?” Doug said. “Need to go air yourself out?”
Corey stopped pacing and looked at him. “I came to tell you I’m sorry about last night, sorry you got caught up in my shit, and got hurt.”
Wyatt came out of the kitchen. “Wait, you were involved? What happened? Doug won’t tell me anything.”
“Wyatt,” Doug whined.
“I’m talking to Corey right now, Doug.”
Corey sighed and sat down on the end of the couch. He looked up at Wyatt. “A young guy who thinks I fucked him over tried to tackle Stewart and then punched me in the face. Somewhere in the midst of this, Doug tried to stop it and got thrown against a car.”
“Yeah, Corey got punched,” Doug said. “Because he’s mean.”
Stewart snickered, then covered his mouth and turned away.
“You are,” Doug said to Corey. “You’re like...” He made a claw of his hand. “Catty. Except you’re too big to be a cat. Maybe a tiger. You’re a big, mean, tiger, Corey. With big mean, bitchy claws.”
“Doug,” Wyatt said. “Stop talking.”
Corey chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’m gonna take your advice, Doug, and go air myself out. Because to be honest, I am completely terrified by what might come out of your mouth next.” He stood up and nodded at Wyatt. “Nice to see you again, Wyatt. Stewart, I’ll see you later.”
Corey left, closing the door behind him.
“Bye, Corey,” Doug said, then fell back against the pillows.
“Do you want to stay for pizza, Stewart?” Wyatt asked.
Stewart came over and sat next to Doug. “Uh, okay. I mean, if that’s all right with Doug.”
Unable to stop himself, Doug leaned in and kissed Stewart hard on the mouth. Stewart stiffened, then melted into the kiss, tongue lingering as Doug pulled back. Stewart looked stunned. He let out a puff of air, then glanced at Wyatt, his cheeks flushing pink.
“You can stay,” Doug said.
“Doug,” Wyatt said. “Remember that little talk we had about painkillers and inhibitions?”
“Don’t worry,” Doug whispered to Stewart. “I’ll kiss you again when he goes back in the kitchen.”
“Yeah, still standing right here,” Wyatt said.
Stewart let out a belly laugh, his face still crimson. “Um, wow.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt said. “Maybe you staying isn’t such a good idea after all. Thanks for stopping by, Stewart. Doug will call you when he’s feeling more himself.”
“Oh,” Doug whined. “But I like Stewart. He smells good.”
Stewart smirked at him. “I like you, too,” he said, then stood. “I’ll call you later.”
After Stewart left, Doug slid down and fell into a deep sleep on the couch. When he awoke later, Wyatt was setting pizza out on the coffee table. “Eat up,” he said. “I made garlic mushroom and one pepperoni.”
“Oh man,” Doug said, rubbing his eyes. “That smells good.”
He was starving suddenly. They sat watching television as they ate. After getting a couple slices of pizza in him, Doug felt more alert, more like himself again.
“How’s your back?” Wyatt asked.
Doug stretched. “Hurts a little bit, but still okay.”
“You can take a pill before bed,” Wyatt said. “You should probably stay out of work one more day.”
“Ugh,” Doug said. “I feel bad calling in. I just had a week off.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“If I feel decent tomorrow I’ll go in, I can still sit at my desk and work if need be. I need work, actually, need my routine.”
Wyatt watched Doug thoughtfully. “What’s going on with you and Stewart?”
Doug swallowed a bite of pizza, then turned to Wyatt, his head clearing as memories of the day flooded back. He dropped the slice of pizza on his plate. “Shit! I kissed him, didn’t I?”
“Oh, you sure did.” Wyatt grinned. “And you called Corey a mean old tiger bitch. Or something like that.”
He slumped over, resting his head in his hands. “Shit.”
Wyatt laughed. “Don’t sweat it, they knew you were doped up. And Corey laughed off the tiger thing. He didn’t seem too pleased about the other thing, though.”
Doug stiffened, looking up. “What...other thing?”
“You were on the bed? Talking to Stewart? I brought Corey in?”
Doug’s shoulders sagged. “Oh, fuck. He heard me say all that shit about him.”
“A manic, crazy, egomaniac hooker,” Wyatt recited. “It’s burned into my brain. It was like slow motion, I wanted to dive across the room and cover your mouth, but Corey was standing right behind me, and heard every word.”
Doug winced. “Do you think he was mad?”
Wyatt snorted. “Would you be if someone said that about you? Especially to your boyfriend? Yeah, Corey looked upset. I gotta tell you, Bro, I’m not liking what I’m seeing here. This dynamic you’ve got with these neighbors, it troubles me. From my vantage point, it’s embarrassingly obvious that you want Stewart and that you hate Corey because he has him.”
Doug groaned and rubbed his forehead. “No, it’s not quite that childish.”
Wyatt snickered.
“Okay.” Doug laughed. “It started to get that childish. I got caught up, I admit it. But I’m detaching. Stewart and I talked the other night and I told him it’s too weird, it doesn’t feel right. And he brought it up when we were in the bedroom, said he got it. I think we’re on the same page. Gonna cool it off. Be friends.”
“But then you kissed him after that,” Wyatt said.
Doug scowled at him. “When are you leaving?”
Wyatt laughed. “I’m sorry, but that kiss was something, and Stewart got all flustered. He’s into you, I can tell. I think you may have negated your ‘let’s be friends’ talk by sucking his face directly after.”
“I was on painkillers. Stewart’s not an idiot, he knows I wasn’t in my right mind.”
“But you like him.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m putting him in the friend zone. He has a boyfriend.”
Wyatt shrugged, and took a bite of pizza. “That’s probably wise. But if you’re not going to wage war to win the fair Stewart’s heart, you should probably apologize to Corey.”
“Why are you all Team Corey today?” Doug asked. “You know, Stewart said Corey wins everyone over eventually, I can see him hypnotizing you right before my eyes. Don’t let that crazy prick fool you, he can be a monumental asshole.”
Wyatt raised his eyebrows. “You know who sounds crazy right now? You. You’re fixated on him. Not the same way you are with Stewart, but you’re fixated nonetheless. Apologize to him so there’s no lingering weirdness, clean the slate, and then stay the hell away from those guys.”
Doug nodded, looking down. He knew Wyatt was right, had felt the same way even as he took Stewart to his bed that last time. But a strange melancholy took over. It had been a long time since he’d felt sadness. Corey was right about one thing. Doug hadn’t mourned Harry, hadn’t let sadness in when the relationship ended. Especially when he found out that even after Tyler—Harry’s lover—had filed the lawsuit, Harry was still with the guy. Still sleeping with him. Harry knew. And he allowed it to happen. He allowed this man, this person he’d betrayed Doug with, to further destroy his life. So there’d been no room for sadness over Harry. Only anger; that white-hot, blinding rage.
But he felt sad now, with the truth that he couldn’t pursue Stewart, couldn’t pursue his own feelings. And he did have feelings. Though he’d known Stewart only a short time, the man had dominated his thoughts since their first night together. And his thoughts hadn’t been full of lust alone. He’s perfect. He’s intoxicating. He’s for me.
“Unless,” Wyatt said cautiously, “you think it’s worth it. Unless you do want to go after Stewart. See where it goes. There’s obviously something between you.”
Doug turned to his brother. “I can’t. No matter what I think of Corey. No matter what my opinions on their open relationship. I won’t break up another man’s home.” He shook his head. “I won’t do that to someone else.”
Wyatt gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “Well, then. You’ll have to move on, won’t you? I’m sure you’ll meet someone else. Apparently people find you attractive. Though I’m not sure why.”
Doug grinned at him. “No set ups. No blind dates.”
“I promise,” Wyatt said. “You’re on your own.”