by Bates, Aiden
“We need to get him back to the room,” Nurse Rachael said. She did a quick check on his vitals, lifting his eyelids gingerly, checking his pulse and breathing and then feeling around the back of his head for any injuries. “You two carry him back to bed, and I’ll run and fetch the doctor.”
She set off at a brisk pace, going back the way we had come.
Saul motioned for me to grab his legs. He lifted him by the torso, and together we shuffled back to the room, bearing his weight between us. We lay him gently on the bed and covered him all the way up to the chin. I noticed my hands were still trembling.
“Fuck.”
“I’m sorry, Kyler,” Saul said.
We stood there in silence for what was probably only minutes, but it seemed like hours. My head snapped up when the door reopened. A short, bespectacled man walked into the room, with Rachael trailing him closely. I recognized him from the first day I had brought my dad to Cranberry Woods. He was one of the resident doctors.
“Hi,” he said, offering a hand to me and then to Saul. “I’m Doctor Whitaker.”
He proceeded to perform a quick examination of my dad, nodding every now and then. Eventually, he turned back to me.
“He seems to be fine,” he said. I let out a breath I had not realized I was holding.
“Falling is a very risky thing for a dementia patient, especially at his age. That, coupled with the increased lapses in awareness, is a clear indicator of a rapidly advancing condition. It’s progressing faster than we had anticipated…”
He trailed off, and the weight of his words hung heavy in the air like a cloud.
“What does that mean?” I asked him.
“It forces us to accept that his dementia is no longer something we can hope to treat. Not at the rate his symptoms are progressing. I’m afraid he will only keep getting worse. Today’s fall does not appear to have caused visible harm, but it means he is beginning to lose control of his faculties and motor functions. In a few weeks, or even days, he won’t be able to leave his bed.”
“So you’re saying there’s nothing that can be done?”
“No, son. I’m not saying that at all. He’s at a critical stage of his condition, which means we have to monitor him very closely. With the increased susceptibility to infections and other illnesses, his body won’t be able to defend itself as well, so he needs round the clock attention. I would advise getting him a hospice.”
“Does that mean we can bring him home?”
“Yes. I know a few hospice services that are very good. If you agree to it, we can begin to look into it, and begin to plan to move your father home for that personal care. Do you live close by?”
“No, we don’t,” Saul spoke up suddenly. I had almost forgotten he was there. He was looking at me with a fierce intensity that almost felt possessive.
“But I’ll make all the arrangements for moving Mr. Nielson,” Saul went on. “He should be with his loved ones. We can airlift him home. Will that work?”
Home. Our home.
“Yes, it should.”
“Good. How soon can we do it?”
“As soon as possible, I think. We will monitor him through the week, and I can begin to look into some hospice options. Let’s say, Saturday?”
“That’s okay.”
“I should mention, sir. Hospice care can be a bit expensive.”
“No, no. I’ll take care of everything.”
All the while I was silent, hardly daring to believe what I was hearing. For the first time since we arrived in L.A., I felt an overpowering urge to cry. It was far too kind of Saul to offer to help like that. Already, the money I was getting from him was going directly into Korbin’s care. And now he was opening up his home too. It wasn’t just a gesture, it meant the world to me. I doubted I would be able to express my gratitude to him. I felt the emotion well up in my chest and constrict my throat. I had to look away from him to stop from bursting into tears right then.
I kissed my dad on the cheek as we left. He looked so peaceful it was hard to imagine that face had been contorted with rage and confusion a few moments earlier.
“I’ll be back for you in no time at all, Dad,” I whispered to him. “Stay strong for me. I love you.”
It wasn’t until we were back on the plane that I was able to figure out that swell of emotion I had felt towards Saul back in that room. I had always known it, I suppose. Deep down. But now I was sure of it, and it filled me, simultaneously, with dread and hope.
Saul was holding me, his eyes glazed over, clearly lost in thought. He was tracing small patterns on the back of my hand with his fingers, and I was reminded of our first night together, and how that very same touch had set my whole body on fire.
I sat up and reached out to him, turning his head to face me. He smiled indulgently at me, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.
“I love you,” I said to him.
I said it much too fast; the words spilled out of my mouth in a flurry.
Saul’s eyebrows shot up, but his expression remained unreadable.
“I know what we are,” I went on in a rush. “I know what you said about not wanting a relationship, and I know the basis of what we have. But I don’t care about any of that. I love you, Saul McCormick. Truly. I want you to know that.”
He gave no indication that he had heard me. His eyes were locked on mine, his face still in my hands. He stared at me so intently, like he was trying to read my mind. He didn’t need to. I had already told him all there was to my mind, and it began and ended with him.
After an unbearably long time, during which I debated jumping off the plane, he gave the tiniest nod of his head. I had no idea whether it was an acknowledgement that he had heard me, or if he was just processing the information. But I knew that was all I was getting. And that was okay.
I nuzzled back onto his chest. Eventually, he slipped his hand back around my torso and went back to making languid motions on my hand with his fingers. We were silent the rest of the way home. When at last the looming wall that was the Roch Mountains came into view, I felt right away that I was back where I belonged.
14
Saul
I love you too, Kyler.
Why was that so hard to say? Five words. Six syllables. A single breath. Yet the words stuck in my throat and wouldn’t come.
It wasn’t that they weren’t true. Far from it. They were true now and they had been true for a long time. The kid had just beaten me to the declaration, but then he was braver than I was. No, I wasn’t ready to bare my soul like that just yet.
I tried to hide behind my favorite excuse, making a mental argument that it was not fair for him to put me in that position, having signed a contract that forbade him from doing so. But it rang hollow even in my own head. Childish, even.
Weird thing about those three little words. Once they were out, everything changed and it was impossible to retract them. You could take back an insult, a word said in jest and even a rejection, but never those words.
More than that, they were a challenge. If you don’t say it back, you look like an asshole, or at least admit you’re not on the same page.
I wanted so badly to say it back. We had shared everything up to that point, and now we had shared his pain too. I felt closer to him than ever before, so the timing was just right. There wasn’t anything to think about, really. I was being a pussy.
And so, having resolved to say it back, I willed myself to look back into Kyler’s eyes. To this day, those eyes undid me completely. Focus, I told myself, and I did. Now say it. Say it now. Say it!
Kyler let his hands drop from my face, slid back into that sweet spot on my chest and lay back down. The moment was gone, just like that. Sight and sound returned. The world rematerialized around us. Disappointed, I slid my arm back around him and held him as I had been holding him.
He did not mention it again. He seemed determined not to acknowledge it, because he was back to his chipper, playful self when we got off the
plane. I had not noticed it before, but he was carrying himself with a confidence and ease he had not had the last time he was on that jet. I hoped it meant he was comfortable enough with me to be himself, and that he was identifying his place in this world.
I knew he was worried about his father, too, but he hid it well. It had been difficult for me, watching his face lose its color as he watched his old man struggling to make sense of his surroundings. I couldn’t imagine what that had been like for him. Then there was that scepter that hung over our heads. No one had come out and said it, but it was clear Korbin did not have much time left.
I wanted so much to be there for Kyler, to comfort him, but I was not sure how to go about it.
Not knowing what else to do, I sought to let him know I was there by maintaining contact at all times. I held him the entire flight home. When we got off the jet I held his hand, and while we drove to the house my hand stayed on his leg.
We were thus entwined as we entered the house, my arm around his waist.
Our little paradise was undisturbed, in that perfect, lived in state. It still bore signs of our hasty exit, with scattered clothes from Kyler’s mini fashion show as he tried to decide what to wear, and unwashed dishes in the sink from the unfinished breakfast. It felt so good to be back. We had been away less than twelve hours, but the interruption to our daily routine made it seem like much longer. But it had been an essential trip. Which reminded me, I was supposed to start looking into the hospice business right away.
I pulled Kyler to me and planted a quick kiss on him. Or at least I had intended for it to be a quick one. The taste of his lips reminded me that I had been away from them far too long, and the familiar lust bubbled up deep inside me. He felt warm to the touch, hot even. I tore myself away from him with some effort.
“Let me make some phone calls first,” I told him.
“And I’ll go take a shower,” Kyler said. “I smell like L.A.”
“No, you smell delightful.”
He smiled, pecked me once on the lips and then padded away. When he got a few feet away, he turned back.
“Thank you for everything, Saul,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve said it yet, or enough. It means so much to me, what you’re doing.”
“Of course, Kyler. It’s nothing.”
Anything for you.
I waited until he was gone, then made my way to the den and took out my phone. It took some searching, as I had not been in the loop, but I eventually pulled up the number of a private practice doctor who had treated me once.
I explained the situation to him, and once I had secured his assurance of discretion, I requested him to find me a reliable hospice home service. He assured me he would get back to me in a day or so. After that, I made another phone call, this time to the architect who had helped me design my house. If Korbin was to come live with us, a few changes needed to be made. The design of the house was not exactly wheelchair accessible, for one, and I would need one of the guest bedrooms to be remodeled completely.
I was sitting there, drawing up the plans in my head, when a new scent hit my nostrils. I knew right away that it was Kyler, but it was different somehow.
A few seconds later, Kyler popped his head around the door, and the scent of him filled the room. He was nude except for a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His body seemed to radiate heat, like waves of it were pouring from his very pores. He had never looked so attractive. And his sweet fruity scent was dialed up more than usual, that sweet citrus fragrance intermingled with flowery notes. There was a certain way Kyler smelled got when he was aroused and his juices were beginning to flow. This was magnified ten times over. It was as though his body was screaming for me.
Something stirred deep in me, and I felt my desire well up until it was all I could think about.
I realized then what was happening. Kyler was in heat.
I saw his lips move, but I could not hear him. The blood was surging through my veins. My mind cleared, leaving behind a singular thought; I needed to fuck Kyler and I needed to do it now. I don’t remember getting up or even going to him. I must have lunged for him, because the only thing between us was the flimsy towel around his waist. I held him in my arms, letting his scent wash over me, and loving how hot his skin felt against mine.
His eyes were wide. Probably taken back by my sudden attack. In the confusion of all that had happened, it wasn’t surprising that he had forgotten he was about to go into heat. But I did not care. The lust he had fanned was blowing through me like a wildfire, and I had no problem showing it.
He gasped when I kissed him. I tilted his head back, gripping his neck a little too tightly as I leaned in. He grunted low in his throat, then let his body melt into mine as he submitted into the kiss. I kissed him fiercely, hungrily. I wanted him to feel the effect he had on me, what he did to me. His body trembled slightly as he kissed me back, and he continued to moan softly. Still I kissed him, my lips possessively dancing on his, intoxicated by the taste of him.
He lifted one leg and draped it across the back of my thigh. I felt his erection straining against the towel fabric. I reached down with one hand and grabbed a handful, tearing it away impatiently. I thought I heard it rip as it fell away and his boner sprang free. I brushed my fingers against the inside of his thighs and they came away slick and wet.
“Oh, God, you’re so wet,” I mumbled. “I want you so badly right now.”
“Then shut up and fuck me!” he said, and I knew he was right there with me in his excitement.
I was so aroused I thought I would burst right through my own pants. My fingers were stiff and uncooperative as I fiddled with my pants. I broke the kiss, cursing loudly as I stepped back and struggled out of the damn things. The t-shirt came flying off next, and finally I pulled Kyler onto me and savored the feel of his skin.
I caressed every inch of skin I could reach. I cupped his buttocks one at a time, squeezing each and smiling when he pushed closer to me. My erection was digging almost painfully into his waist, and the waves of pleasure that sprang from the contact shot right through my body and mind. I was possessed, and there was only one way to sate my hunger.
I grabbed him by the hips and lifted him up. Slowly, his breath hot on my face, I walked him backwards until he was held up against a wall. He had always been limber, Kyler. I lifted one leg, then another, so that they were resting on the insides of my elbows, the rest of his weight supported by the wall. His face was suffused with joy as he looked up at me. He was open to me, literally. In that position, it was almost too easy to guide my cock into him.
I slid in slowly, watching the pleasure transform his face.
“Fuck me!” Kyler urged breathlessly.
I started to move, grinding my hips slowly, letting the momentum set up a gradual rhythm. I had hoped to retain control, but my arousal was threatening to wrench it away from me. Before I knew it, I was thrusting into him with a frenzied intensity, made more powerful by the cloud of his primal scent swirling around me. With each thrust my need grew, so too did my desperation to fill him with my fire and my seed.
His fingers were in my hair. His face was buried somewhere in my neck, where I could feel the moistness of his lips. The wall behind us was getting slick from Kyler’s sweat. Still I fucked him, the clapping sounds echoing around the room. I felt my orgasm begin to build and shook my head, willing myself to hold on just a little longer.
I slowed down, slowly coming to a stop. Kyler pulled his head up and looked at me through half-shut eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
I simply shook my head.
I secured his legs behind my back, allowing me to move my arms, slide them around his waist and lift him once more by his ass. I carried him over to the couch and sat down gently, my cock throbbing inside him. He pushed himself off my cock slowly, and then I turned him around and he leaned over so that his beautiful ass was in my face. I had an overwhelming urge to bury my head there and inhale. Instead, I
got down behind him.
He sprawled himself onto the thick rug, going onto his knees. I grabbed his hips and drove into him once more.
I knew I would not be able to hold back this time. He was pushing back with every forward thrust I was making. My toes curled and my knuckles whitened as I held on to him, riding him hard and fast. Fucking him. In that moment, he was mine, and we were one.
I felt him clench against my shaft, and I knew he was close. I could see him moving his hand as he stroked his cock in sync with my thrusting. His whole body fell forward as he climaxed. It did not slow me down; I kept slamming into him, my own climax bubbling just beneath the surface. With one final grunt, I pushed into him and buried myself as deep as I could. My vision blurred as I came. My whole body trembled, and I let out an involuntary roar as I spilled into him, then collapsed in a heap on top of him.
We lay there heaving and panting, soaked in each other’s sweat and fluids. I rolled off him and lay on my back on the rug, my body slick with sweat. Kyler lifted his head and rested it on my chest.
“That was beautiful,” he said. “It’s always beautiful with you.”
“It is,” I agreed. “Mind-blowing.”
Already I could feel Kyler’s heat receding. He was no longer as hot, and the overwhelming scent had begun to taper off.
“What were you coming in here to tell me?” I asked him, remembering how we got into this situation in the first place.
“Oh. I wanted to invite you to join me in the shower. You know, wash the L.A. off each other.”
“We should still do that,” I said. “There’s more to wash off now.”
“Okay. But not just yet.”
He nuzzled even closer, so his body was now draped along mine. It had become his favorite position. If I was being honest, I was quite fond of it myself.
Pretty soon, though, he fell silent, and his breathing slowed down. I didn’t blame him for falling asleep. The stress of the journey was enough to tire anyone out. Add to that a vigorous bout of lovemaking and it made sense that he was beat. I was starting to feel the weariness myself.