by B. G. Thomas
A very cute doctor named Clay concluded that he had, in fact, passed a stone.
“The worst part is passing a stone through the kidney, but if you’re lucky and it’s small and not jagged, it can pass through the penis and not even be felt.” But then he described the worst parts of it all as being a man’s introduction to how it feels to have a baby.
Wyatt had no idea if he was right or not, or if the doctor—a man, after all—could even know if he was right. But Wyatt did know one thing. He certainly wouldn’t have more than one child if it was true! How women had two or three or six he would never know.
Kevin explained that the CAT scan showed an enlarged prostate, but nothing cancerous.
The relief was beyond words.
Dr. Clay did do a prostate examination, though, and Wyatt was amazed he didn’t even think of flirting with the guy. Dr. Clay was more than cute; he was hot. He reminded Wyatt of Spencer-fucking-Morrison, and he told the man that too.
“I’ve been told that,” Dr. Clay said and then told Wyatt he was going to stick his finger up his ass. He didn’t say it in those words, of course, but that’s what Wyatt heard, and he wasn’t happy about it. Not in these circumstances at least. He was too busy wondering if Dr. Clay could tell that he’d been fucked recently. If he could tell, he didn’t say a word. It all seemed so funny, but gods, it had just been so embarrassing.
Then he placed orders for another urinalysis and more blood work.
Gods!
Again and again Wyatt could only be thankful that Kevin was with him.
He quickly lost track of time and what happened when. Days fused all together. They did a test that he was glad he could only partially remember. They hooked him up to some machine that used a radioactive dye so they could do a nuclear medicine photo-op. But they had a lot of problems getting a picture of his gallbladder. They even used several extra tricks to do it, but had no luck. Wasn’t his gallbladder what Saffron told him to ask about? And he remembered that was what had been bugging him. What he’d forgotten. No. No, he hadn’t forgotten. He was sure he had tried to tell them, but no one really noticed. She had been so insistent that it was his gallbladder, and if they knew that, it would “save a shit-ton of time and tests.” At least that very test seemed to point out that it wasn’t his gallbladder, thank all the gods that ever were, because that meant he wasn’t going to have to have surgery! Surgery would mean a scar, and he did not want a scar!
One day—after some distasteful news about a procedure he was going to have to endure later that afternoon—Scott and Cedar showed up (how was everybody getting off of work?), and they brought a few things Wyatt had really wanted. Two small statues for the side of his bed. The first was of Asclepius, a bearded man—a god—in a rather revealing toga-like garment, holding a snake-entwined staff. The second was about half its size and was a stone rabbit—Tu Er Shen—the Chinese god of homosexuality. Two very good gods to have watching over him in the hospital.
Oh. And candles. Green. Forest green. Utnapishtim would be happy, although Wyatt wasn’t sure they would let him light them in the hospital. He could always sneak it here and there. Wasn’t Kevin good for keeping watch?
Wyatt was sure that he was.
“And socks,” said Cedar and pulled out three pair from a deep jacket pocket.
“Oh, thank you!” Wyatt flexed his feet under the mismatched socks. He’d been so embarrassed every time someone saw his socks.
“And”—from Cedar’s other pocket came—“underwear! I was going to bring those hot jocks of yours I found in the bottom drawer.”
“And I reminded him,” Scott said, “that the point was you didn’t want anyone to see your ass.”
“Although you’ve got a nice ass,” Cedar remarked.
“Hey,” cried Kevin, while Cedar laughed and Wyatt blushed.
Cedar slapped Scott’s ass. “Relax, Hodor… ah, Kevin. I’ve got all the sweet butt I can handle right here.”
“Cedar!” Scott spun around and glared at him.
“Thank you, Scott.” Somehow just seeing them there gave Wyatt a lot of comfort. “You too, Cedar.”
Scott shook his head. “I’ll do anything for you.”
“I mean it,” Wyatt said.
“Yeah, I know you do.” Scott bent and kissed Wyatt’s cheek, surprising the hell out of him. “I was worried I got the wrong one. You’ve got a bunch of statues of guys in togas. But he was the only one with snakes.”
“You got the right one,” Wyatt said. “He’s the god of medicine and healing.”
“Ah!” Scott shook his head. “Good one to have around, then.”
The new Scott never ceased to amaze Wyatt. He really had changed. It was a wonder what a week out at “witchy-woo-woo” camp and meeting a hot motherfucking jockstrap-wearing guy could do to a man. He glanced at Cedar, who had an arm slung casually and perhaps a little territorially around Scott’s shoulder. He winked as if he’d read Wyatt’s mind.
“I thought so,” Wyatt said.
“Whatever makes you feel good, my man,” Cedar said. “Whatever makes you feel good.” And then he used his eyes to motion toward Kevin.
Wyatt blushed.
They talked for an hour or so and watched a couple of episodes of Adam-12 (what a surprise that show was on repeats), and it was about then that they came for Wyatt to go do the “awful thing” he was decidedly not looking forward to.
“Can I go with?” Kevin asked.
“I am sorry, Mr…?”
“Owens-Dolan,” Kevin said. “I’m his husband.”
That startled Wyatt and then made him feel warm, and maybe a little braver.
“Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Owens-Dolan, that’s not possible,” said the very adorable Indian man. Was there a requirement that the men who worked in this hospital all look good? Wyatt wondered. Or was the administrator of the hospital just a dirty old fruit? “You can wait for him in recovery, but it would be mighty boring. This will take a couple of hours, and we will be bringing him back here as long as there’s no trouble, and I can’t imagine there will be. We do these every day.”
“Kevin, Cedar and I thought we could take you to Camp,” Scott offered. “Then we can get your cars.”
“Oh, wow!” Wyatt said. Saffron had called to let them know that she and Gryphon had dug them out.
“One of us can get Wyatt’s Mini Coop back to his place, and you can get your truck. You could have it with you and then you wouldn’t be trapped here.”
“I don’t know,” Kevin said, shaking his head. “I don’t like the idea of being away in case anything….”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Scott told Kevin and then used his eyeballs to bounce a few ixnay-ixnays in Wyatt’s direction.
“I saw that,” Wyatt said as a cute African American hospital person—Wyatt wasn’t sure what he was: Nurse? Resident? Medical assistant? What?—helped him into a wheelchair, the back of his hospital gown flopping open as usual. Thank Arachne he had underwear!
Then it hit him.
“I really think you should come with us, Hodor,” Cedar was saying. “Hell! What if it snows again? Let’s get the cars where they’re safe.”
They were taking him down for that test—oh gods!
“I would just like to be right here in case.”
He didn’t want to do this. And they were going to knock him out!
“I understand,” Scott said. “But we have this afternoon off, Hodor. This is your best opportunity.”
“It’s Kevin,” Wyatt cried. They were wheeling him toward the door, rolling his IV behind him.
“Shit!” Kevin cursed and then, “Oh, shit! Wyatt, do you want me to go down with you?”
Wyatt held out his hand to the guy pushing him. Then he turned to Kevin. “I want you to tell me it’s going to be all right. I want to know it’s going to be so all right that you can leave here with all the confidence in the world and take care of our cars. And make sure you get all our stuff from the cabin. I want
my iPod. I want my books. I want Scott and Cedar to take my bearskin home so it’s safe. I want you to kiss me!”
Then Kevin was on his knees and kissing him. And when he finally broke that kiss, he sat back on his haunches and assured Wyatt of everything he’d said.
“You’re going to be all right, Baby Bear. And I will go take care of the cars. And we’ll get all your stuff, and I will bring you your iPod, and Scott and Cedar will take your bearskin home. And I love you. I love you so much.” He claimed Wyatt’s mouth—Wyatt felt the claiming—and it took his breath away, and he suddenly knew that this was going to be all right in the end.
That Kevin would be waiting for him.
“And it’s Dolan-Owens,” he called over his shoulder as he was taken from the room.
“Wow,” said the cute black guy pushing his wheelchair quickly down the hall. “You are one lucky dude. If I had a man like that kiss me, I’d cream my panties.”
Wyatt laughed.
And for a few minutes, at least, he felt a little better.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
THEY HAD him lie on the table and explained again what they were going to do.
It really sounded horrible.
It was something called an endoscopy. They were going to run a tube down his throat with an itty-bitty camera attached to scope out what was going on someplace inside him. The anesthesia was to make sure he didn’t gag at having something pushed down his throat. He wanted to make a joke, but he just couldn’t.
The gadget they were going to put in his mouth was terrifying.
It looked like something for a Dom/sub game—something to force and keep someone’s mouth wide open so that his Dom could facefuck him. But this wasn’t a dick going down his throat, and the scary-looking guy who was going to do it proved that his theory that only hot guys could work at the hospital was wrong.
I won’t remember this, was his mantra. I won’t remember this. That’s what the anesthesiologist told him. Whatever they were giving him would make it so that he didn’t remember any of this.
But then that thing was being put in his mouth, and it wasn’t fun, and then they were bringing the tube and his eyes went wide and he made the noises he could.
The second medical guy looked at him in surprise and asked, “Don’t you feel the meds?” and he shook his head no and then…
…nothing.
THEY CLIMBED into Scott’s absolutely lovely cream Lexus ES 350. It wasn’t quite what Kevin was expecting. But then, cars weren’t important to Kevin. And besides, everyone parked their cars up top and far to the south of the plateau at Festival. People walked. They didn’t drive around. So he didn’t know what kind of car Scott had. It just wasn’t what he expected.
He went to climb in the back, but Cedar insisted he get up front. “You’re nine feet tall.”
Kevin laughed. “I’m six foot. Not that much taller than you.”
“So let me be nice,” Cedar said and ran fingers through his fauxhawk. “I’m not nice very often.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” said Scott. “He is love personified.”
“You’re prejudiced,” Cedar said, and while they debated this, Kevin got in back. He wanted the two of them together. Like he wanted to be together with Wyatt.
I want that.
I need that.
So he didn’t even want to keep them from being in the front seat together.
They weren’t on the road long when they asked. He knew it was coming. How could they not ask?
“So, Hodor,” Cedar asked, turning and looking into the back seat, “you and Wyatt, huh?”
“I hope so,” Kevin replied and gave Cedar a single nod.
“Ahhhh….” This was Scott. “When did this happen?”
“This?” Kevin asked, knowing exactly what Scott was wanting to know.
“Are…. Well, are you and Wyatt…?”
Scott paused and Kevin waited for him to finish.
“Are you two fucking?” Cedar finished for him.
“Cedar!” Scott cried. “For God’s sake!”
“Well, that’s what you wanted to know, right?” Cedar looked back at Kevin but cocked a thumb at his lover. “That’s what he wants to know. I mean, I want to know too, but that’s what he’s beating around the bush about.”
“Cedar! Please!”
Kevin didn’t know how to answer. It’s none of your business? Since just the other night? He found himself freezing up, his old tongue-tied ways returning. It really wasn’t any of their business. And yet he wanted to declare his love for Wyatt from the mountaintops. Maybe if Cedar hadn’t said “fucking”?
“Forgive Mr. Unsubtle here,” Scott said. “It’s just that…. Well, Wyatt is very important to us.”
“He’s very important to me too,” Kevin replied.
“We all feel protective of our bear.”
Kevin nodded. “It’s hard not to want to protect Wyatt. He brings that out in people. I know I want to protect him.”
“You sure as shit got him to the hospital,” said Cedar, bobbing his head in the affirmative.
“Wyatt’s been hurt,” Scott continued. “Bad.”
“By that motherfucker Howard.”
There was a pause.
“Yeah,” Scott said. “By that motherfucker Howard. I fucking hate him. We all do.”
“He’s a pretty despicable person,” Kevin said.
“None of us have been able to figure out why Wyatt was with him in the first place.”
“It’s because Wyatt is a pretty wounded guy,” Kevin said. “And for some reason he felt he deserved whatever Howard did to him. He told me that Howard rescued him and gave him all his dreams. And then took them away.” Was he betraying a confidence by saying this? He didn’t think so. “He didn’t think he deserved any better. But I hope to show him different. If he’ll let me.”
Another pause.
“You really do care for our Wyatt?” came Scott’s cautious question.
“I do. I love him, Scott. I think I have for a long time.” A long time. “And it makes me happy that you guys have been taking care of him. Wyatt told me that. He said he wouldn’t have made it without you guys. The Fabulous Four.”
“Plus three now,” Cedar said.
“Well I hope it can be four now,” said Kevin.
Another pause.
“I know that none of you know me—”
“I know you,” Cedar said. “I’ve always thought you were a nice guy.”
“But you don’t know me. Nobody at Festival does because I keep mostly to myself. I want to try and change that, but it’s not easy for me. But Wyatt helps. He gives me… confidence. He makes me want to be more outgoing, you know? And I want to be there for him. Protect him. And I am glad you’re suspicious of me—”
“Not suspicious, really,” Scott interjected then. “We’re just…. We don’t want him to get hurt again and—well—suddenly you’ve appeared out of nowhere, and we’re all pretty surprised. Wyatt isn’t exactly secretive about his life, and it was a shock to see you and to realize that something has happened with you two. And we’re worried and—”
“And I’m glad. I’m glad that you worry about him. And I am sure I’m a surprise. Hell! I’m as surprised as you guys. More! I’ve harbored a crush for years and—”
“Really?” Scott asked.
“Yeah.” Cedar nodded. “I believe it. I’ve watched you give Wyatt puppy-dog eyes for a long time.”
“You have?” Scott looked at his lover, agog.
“—and I don’t know how it happened, and frankly I’m worried to fucking hell that I’m his rebound, but I’m praying I’m not.”
And fuck! I just said all that out loud!
“Wow,” Cedar said with a very sweet smile, eyes alight. “I can’t believe you just said all that out loud!”
“God, you guys,” Kevin said, and apparently his spewing of the mouth wasn’t over! “I love him. I really do. I love him so much.”
Anot
her pause. This one went on for about a million years.
Then Scott said, “Well, good, then.”
And they drove to Camp and picked up the cars. Not only had Gryphon and Saffron dug them out, but they’d even packed them.
“You guys…,” Kevin said and then didn’t know what to say. What was there to say?
“It’s okay,” Gryphon replied. “We only want to help.”
They asked how Wyatt was doing, and Kevin explained as best he could and then told them he needed to leave. He had to get back to the hospital.
“Of course you do,” Saffron said. “Get back to him. But I’ve got something….” She dashed down the little path to her home and then was back, running. She was carrying the Thermos that she’d lent them earlier. “Hot chocolate,” she said, pressing it into his hands. “And it’ll stay hot for a while. This is a damned old Thermos. It was my parents’. Made when a Thermos really kept things the right temperature for damned near ever. Just get it back to me, okay?”
“I will,” he said, and then he hugged and kissed them both because Gryphon wasn’t settling for anything else. And then Kevin climbed into his big F-150 and with Scott in his Lexus and Cedar in Wyatt’s Mini Coop, they hit the road.
Because Kevin knew something was up.
He had to get back to Wyatt.
WYATT AWOKE surrounded by the ugliest curtains he had ever seen in his life.
“Geez,” he said. “It’s obvious no gay man ever picked these out!”
He said it just as a nurse appeared at the one side the ugly curtains weren’t hanging.
He swore she almost hurt herself laughing.
Then something wondrous happened.
She brought Kevin.
“Hey, Baby Bear,” he said, taking Wyatt’s hand.
“Keeeee-vin,” he said—he felt himself drifting off again. “You were supposed to help get the cars.”
“I did, Wyatt. You were out for quite a while.”
Wyatt smiled.
“That’s a good thing, right?” he asked.
“Yes.” He squeezed Wyatt’s hand. “But don’t ask me to do it again.” The look on Kevin’s face was very serious.