* * * *
“Bed or couch,” he asked Ian as he helped him into the house.
“Couch, I think,” Ian mumbled. “I need to brush my teeth first though and get into some shorts or something.”
“I vote for, and something,” Bran said with a grin and a wink. While Ian disappeared into the bathroom, Bran went to the bedroom and found a blanket and pillow. As he carried them back to the living room, he stopped at Ian’s workroom door, tempted to take a peek.
The toilet flushing helped him resist. Tossing the bedding on the sofa, Bran took off his shoes and socks, before pulling his shirt over his head. The door opened and Ian walked towards the couch in nothing but his tight grey boxer-briefs. Damn, even sick, Ian looked good. Bran quickly shed his jeans and lay on the couch, patting the area in front of him.
With a smile, Ian spooned against him, burying his face in Bran’s chest hair. Reaching down, Bran pulled the cover over them and reached for the remote. He knew Ian didn’t feel like talking, that much was evident from the quiet ride home. Bran flipped to the football game as Ian snuggled in and put his leg between Bran’s.
“Thank you,” Ian said, kissing Bran’s chest.
“For what, holding you? That’s my pleasure, babe.” Bran was starting to get a sinking feeling in his gut. He knew Ian had his CT scan that morning. Bran knew he should just come out and ask. No, his mind screamed, he didn’t want to know. If he didn’t ask he could remain blissfully in the dark, holding his love. His love?
Bran stared at the television as his eyes blurred momentarily. No, no, no, backup, just back the fuck up. When had this happened? Sure he enjoyed Ian’s company more than anyone else’s and the sex was fantastic, but love? Okay, maybe it wasn’t love, maybe the word just popped into his head, maybe…
“Who’s winning,” Ian asked.
“Huh?” Bran’s mind was going a mile a minute and he had absolutely no idea what Ian was talking about.
“The game, who’s winning?” Ian leaned back and looked up at him.
Bran’s eyes flashed back to the screen. “I’m not sure to be honest.” Come on, think. “I was, uh, just enjoying the feel of you in my arms.” And that was the really fucked up part, because he was enjoying the feel of Ian, maybe too much. Kissing Ian’s forehead, Bran rubbed his back. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah, there are a few things I need to get finished before my meeting. Would it be okay if I took you home?”
Now that didn’t sound like Ian at all. Normally, he would have asked Bran to just chill out and watch television, maybe go on to bed without him with promises of joining him later. Fuck, something was really wrong. Suddenly, Bran wanted to get out, get away. “I’ll call a cab.”
“No, I’m well enough to take you.” Ian gave Bran a kiss. “Please, let me drive you home and give you a kiss goodnight.”
There was something in Ian’s eyes that Bran couldn’t decipher. He finally nodded and started getting dressed without another word.
Pulling up in front of his downtown apartment, Bran turned to Ian. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because I can follow you home if you’d like me to.”
“I’m fine,” Ian said and leaned in for a kiss. “There’s just something very important that I need to finish before morning.”
Bran ran his knuckles over Ian’s jaw. He kissed him one last time, dipping his tongue inside for a quick taste before opening the flimsy jeep door. “I’ll see you. Try to get some sleep tonight.”
“I will.”
Bran was about to shut the door when Ian hollered at him, “Hey, Bran?”
“Yes,” Bran said, sticking his head back inside the vehicle.
“I love you.”
With a lump the size of Texas in his throat, Bran gave a short nod. “Thank you.” He shut the door and walked towards his building with unshed tears in his eyes. “Fuck,” he said, walking through the doors.
Chapter Seven
Standing in the shower, Bran rubbed his tear swollen eyes. He’d spent an entire night arguing with himself over Ian. Finally, at about four a.m. he came to terms with his feelings. He was in love. For only the second time in his life he knew what it was like to love someone. But even as he thought it, he realised it was the first time someone had ever truly loved him back. The Tisdales had wanted a child, but if they’d truly loved him like their own, they wouldn’t have given him back up to foster care.
No, Ian’s love was the real thing. It made Bran feel stronger, not weaker. Ian gave him everything a person could ask for in a partner and yet refused to burden Bran when he needed him the most. Even though he wasn’t Ian’s physician any longer, he could still help. Bran knew how to take care of a patient, he’d make damn sure Ian got the treatment he deserved and Bran would be there, ready to take care of him at the end of the day.
With his new resolve in place, Bran turned off the water and got ready for work. He needed to talk to Dan Briggs. Bran wanted to know exactly what they were facing before finding Ian. He wanted Ian’s questions to be answered by him, not a doctor he’d only met in passing.
Picking up his keys from the table, Bran opened his apartment door and was surprised to find two packages. As soon as he saw the brown paper wrapped presents he knew what they were. Ian’s surprise had been paintings. How late had he stayed up to finish them?
Taking the pictures into his living room, Bran saw an envelope attached to one. Swallowing, he tore it off and opened it. Deciding it would be better to sit, Bran walked over and fell into a chair as he read.
My Dearest Bran,
Let me start by telling you that I love you. I’ll always love you no matter what happens between us. That said, I need to tell you the phone call I received at the bar was Dr. Briggs. A shadow showed up on my CT scan. It’s in the right lower part of the lung and I’m having an outpatient needle biopsy performed at eleven o’clock at St. Mark’s Hospital.
I know even as I write this that me getting sick is a deal-breaker for you. But before you decide, please open the two pictures. As you might have guessed I finished them during the night. There’s a catch, you can only hang one. The path you wish to follow will be a choice only you can make.
Remember, I’ll love you forever,
Ian
Bran wiped his eyes and picked up the first painting marked number one. Tearing the paper off, his breath caught in his chest as he gazed upon a beautifully done water colour of his beach. A close likeness of him and Ian huddled under a blanket kissing.
Smiling he dared to touch and was happy to find it dry. He traced Ian’s likeness with his finger, remembering the sunrise they’d gotten up early to witness. The kisses had led to stumbling back to the house to make love for hours.
Curious, he unwrapped the second painting. The image was a shock, tearing his heart out of his chest. Same beach, but this time there was a lone figure huddled under the blanket, looking lost and alone. It was him, that day Ian came to find him.
Looking at the picture, Bran suddenly remembered the bottle he’d found that day. More than the bottle, he remembered the note and the necklace. He needed to get that necklace. Jumping up, Bran looked at his watch. He’d barely have enough time to get to the beach house and back, but he could do it if the traffic gods smiled on him. Bran picked up one of the paintings and left the apartment.
* * * *
Here he was again, back in the same hospital, wearing the same ill-fitting dressing gown. Ian’s hands were sweating as he listened to his pulmonologist, Dr. Cheaver, explain the procedure.
When Ian met with Dr. Briggs earlier that day he’d been told he’d need a ride home. Unwilling to call Bran, Ian figured he’d just call a cab after he was released. On his way out of the office, Nancy, the receptionist, stopped him, telling him that Bran had called in and was on his way to the coast. Since hearing that, Ian hadn’t cared much about anything. Ian gave his head a shake. He wouldn’t do this to himself. It was Bran’s problem, not his. A small part of him kept expecting Bran
to run through the door, ready to declare his undying love. Yeah right.
Dr. Cheaver asked him if he had any questions, and Ian realised he hadn’t been listening. “I’m sorry did you tell me how long it would take before we know the results?” Ian asked.
The doctor smiled and squeezed Ian’s shoulder. “The biopsy normally takes two to four days to analyze but I’ll see if I can get a rush on it. You’ve been through a lot already. It could be absolutely nothing to worry about, Ian.”
“Yeah, I know.”
* * * *
Bran was about to pull his hair out as he waited for the accident to clear. He read the note he’d retrieved from the bottle once more.
A stone that’s blessed by lovers’ hands
To bless the wearer with a love that stands.
Through time and toil, no stopping fate
As lovers unite, no hand can break.
So take this token and wear it true,
Destiny awaits with love for you.
A favour I ask from you to me
Once blessed return my gift to the sea.
For others await the hand of fate
My blessing to love’s true mates.
Fingering the stone that hung around his neck, Bran prayed for the magical gift to work. He brought it to his lips and kissed it once more, hoping the love he was putting into the silver entwined stone would find its way to Ian. Grabbing his cell phone, he called the hospital and talked with the outpatient nurse he’d talked with twenty minutes ago. Ian should be out within the next ten or so. He looked at the dash clock.
Making a quick decision, Bran pulled his car into the parking lot he’d been sitting beside for the past thirty minutes. Locking up, he took off towards the hospital on foot at a steady jog. Luckily the hospital was only about two miles away. By the time he reached the outpatient information desk, Bran was out of breath and sweaty. He flashed the woman his hospital security badge. “I’m Dr. Ryan and I’d like to speak with Phyllis in outpatient recovery.”
The clerk picked up the phone. She hung up the phone and smiled. “You can go on back, Dr. Ryan.”
Bran was through the swinging doors before she even finished her sentence. “Phyllis, how is he?”
She laughed and pointed towards a curtained off area. “Grouchy, please cheer him up.”
Taking a deep breath, Bran kissed the stone around his neck once more before walking around the edge of the curtain. Ian was awake, but still a little groggy. Bran knew they hadn’t put him completely under to perform the biopsy, but it appeared they’d given him some good relaxants. “Hey,” he said standing at the foot of Ian’s narrow gurney.
“What are you doing here? I was told you’d gone to the beach.” Ian’s eyes were huge and questioning.
“I did. I had a couple things I needed to take care of. I hung up your picture. They’re beautiful by the way.” Bran slowly moved to Ian’s side.
“Thanks. Uh, which one did you hang?” Ian asked, grasping the blanket.
“The one with me alone.”
“Oh.” Bran watched as Ian’s face turned solemn.
“I hung that one to remind myself every time I looked at it, what life would be like if I didn’t have you in it.” Bran knelt beside the gurney putting him eye level with Ian. Reaching out he held Ian’s hand. “I love you, Ian. You’re mine and I’m not giving you up again, no matter how scared I get. Whatever this shadow is, I’ll be right beside you.”
Bran knew they looked like two blubbering idiots by the time the nurse peeked her head around the curtain. “Dr. Cheaver will be in to speak with you in a moment.” She smiled at the two of them before leaving.
Bran kissed Ian, passing over his strength and belief that everything would be all right. Ian broke the kiss and touched the dangling necklace. “What’s this?”
Bran smiled, “It’s my good luck charm. I know it works because it brought me to you. I’ll tell you all about it later.”
Chapter Eight
Once released, Bran drove him straight to the beach house. Ian had strict instructions to stay in bed and sleep for the rest of the day and he and Bran couldn’t think of a better place than their big bed that overlooked the water. “I can’t wait to get a look at the bottle,” Ian said, unrolling the faded paper Bran had found in said bottle.
Ian looked over and saw Bran fingering the necklace again. “It’s weird because when I read the note the first time, it didn’t quite register. But then after seeing your paintings…I don’t know, something just clicked.” Bran pointed to the note. “I wish I knew who wrote it, I’d like to send them a bottle of champagne.”
Looking at the piece of paper, Ian shook his head. “My guess is whoever wrote this is long gone. This thing has to be over a hundred years old. You should probably give it to a museum somewhere along with the necklace and bottle.”
“Can’t,” Bran said, shaking his head, “it says right in the note that when you’ve found your true love you have to return it to the sea. I know it’s a little unbelievable that a man in the science field would believe in all this fate, hocus pocus stuff. And I’ll admit, in the beginning I was just grasping for anything to help lead me to you, but after what Cheever’s said, I don’t know. I could almost swear my neck began tingling where the necklace touched my skin.” Bran shook his head. “It could be nothing more than the power of suggestion, but whatever it is, this necklace is special. I thought the two of us could watch the sunrise in the morning and set it afloat together. It seems like the right thing to do.”
“You think someone else will get as lucky as we’ve been?” Ian reached across the console and brushed his knuckles down Bran’s cheek.
The spot on his lung they’d been so worried about turned out to be a small pocket of pneumonia. With medication, his pulmonologist thought it would clear up just fine. The best thing to come out of the entire ordeal was Bran’s love and support.
Bran caught Ian’s hand and kissed his fingers. “We’ll have a long life together, yeah?”
“Absolutely. Although you’re a few years older than I am so you’ll have to start taking better care of yourself.” Ian grinned.
“Ha, I’ll have you know I ran almost two miles today,” Bran chuckled.
Ian smiled. They’d had to take a cab to the parking lot where Bran had left his car. It had been nice though. Even if it was only two miles, it was time spent safely ensconced in Bran’s arms.
“When we get to the house, I’m going to put you to bed and run to the store. I’ll check on you after you’ve had a good nap. You need at least three more hours of relative inactivity to give your lung time to heal from the procedure.” Bran ran his hand down Ian’s thigh. “Believe me, you’re going to need all the sleep you can get because I plan on still being awake when the sun comes up.”
“Thank God it’ll be Saturday. You know, we really do have to start working full work weeks again,” Ian teased.
“Yeah, maybe if we lived together we’d see enough of each other that we wouldn’t have to skip work.”
Ian’s head snapped towards Bran. “You serious?”
Bran nodded his head. “I thought maybe we could stay at your house during the week and come out here on the weekends. If you want to that is?”
“What do you think?” Ian laughed and shook his head. “I’d live under a blanket on the beach as long as I could be with you.”
“Good, then we’ve got a plan.”
* * * *
Bran bought some silver polish at the store and spent a good amount of time cleaning the silver chain and spiralled cage that wrapped the green stone. The more he studied the necklace, the more he realised it was handmade. Probably by whoever threw it into the ocean. He hated to give it back, but he realised it wasn’t his to keep. His treasure was sound asleep in the room down the hall.
Bran would never tell Ian just how thankful he was the shadow turned out to be treatable. He loved Ian like his own life and he would have stood by and helped him through anyt
hing, but Bran also knew it would have killed him. Hopefully by the time they were old, it would be easier to know their lives were coming to an end.
Closing his eyes, Bran shook his head. No, it will never be easy to say goodbye to Ian. At least he finally figured out that to dwell on the death was to kill the life. He’d treat each day as a special day because it was one more that he’d been blessed with.
A cough sounded from down the hall and Bran quickly put away the necklace and cleaning supplies. After a quick wash-up, he headed down the hall and stuck his head into the bedroom. Ian was in that blinky, waking up stage.
“Hey, you,” Bran said pushing off the door jam. He took off his clothes and crawled under the covers. Pulling his man into his arms, Bran kissed him. Ian always tasted like autumn, spicy and sweet. “Mmm, you taste good.”
“You feel good,” Ian said, running his hand over Bran’s chest and down towards his cock.
“Are you all done sleeping? Because I’ve been waiting to play all afternoon.” He thrust towards Ian’s questing hand.
“Oh have you?” Ian grasped Bran’s cock, pressing his thumb into the slit, eliciting a moan from Bran. “Briggs ran another HIV test yesterday.”
“I had one, too,” Bran said, rolling so Ian was on top of him. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours?” He asked, shrugging his eyebrows.
Ian grinned and ground his cock against Bran’s. “My wallet’s clear on the other side of the room. I’ve already told you I haven’t been with anyone but you since finding out about the cancer and you’ve said it’s been almost that long for you. Just tell me whether or not you’re good to go. I trust you,” he winked.
“God we’re going to save so much money on condoms,” Bran groaned as Ian suckled on his earlobe.
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