Love Can't Conquer

by Kim Fielding

  “Will you be all right, sweetie?” asked Rhoda, indicating his foot.

  “Yeah. I don’t have to work until Tuesday.” Thanks to the ice, the ache had already diminished slightly.

  “Good. Let’s talk about what we’re going to do with Jeremy. I have a plan, if you’re up for it.” She gave him an assessing look. “And I think you are.”

  “Jesus, Rhoda. Look at me. I’m a goddamn mess.”

  “You saved Jeremy’s life today, Qay.”

  He breathed in so sharply it hurt. “I—”

  “He was a big idiot who ignored everyone’s warnings to be more careful, but you called in the cavalry. That qualifies you to take care of the fool.”

  “If I’d gone for help earlier, he might not have been hurt.”

  “So now you’re supposed to be psychic? C’mon, Qay. I didn’t do anything at all. When the two of you didn’t show, I tried to call and got his voice mail. I figured either you’d had another fight, in which case he’d want to pout alone, or you were too busy in bed together to notice the time.”

  Qay felt his cheeks heat.

  Rhoda chuckled and patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m a big girl. But do you want to hear my plan?”

  “Sure.”

  “As soon as they spring him from this place, I’ll give him a ride to the Marriott. You stay with him until you have to go to work.”

  “But I—”

  “He’s going to need help bathing, dressing. I’m absolutely positive he’d rather you do that than me.”

  Qay considered this. “Yeah, you’re right.” The question was whether Qay could keep his shit together enough to help.

  “I’m always right, darling. Okay, then. We’ll see what kind of shape he’s in Monday night and go from there. He can stay in my extra bedroom if he wants to.”

  That decided, they waited until a nurse came for them. “He’s awake. You can come see him, but just for a few minutes. He needs to rest.”

  Qay bounced out of his chair, then had to swallow an expletive when he landed on his sore foot. Rhoda just sighed and rolled her eyes.

  JEREMY LOOKED awful—and yet beautiful, because he was alive, and because when he saw Rhoda and Qay, he gave them a woozy smile. His face was swollen, bandages swathed a good part of his head and body, and tubes trailed from his arm.

  “When you’re healed, I’m going to kick your ass,” Rhoda said. “Idiot.” Then she bent over and kissed him gently on the less puffy cheek. A plastic cup with a straw sat on the little bedside table. She picked it up and stuck it near his face. “Drink.”

  He took an obedient sip. “Thanks.” His voice sounded as if it had been dragged through a gravel pit. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Everyone but you. And the bad guys. Davis is dead.”

  Jeremy nodded slightly, winced, and sighed. “Such a waste.” Then he turned his attention to Qay, who’d been hovering uncomfortably near the door. “You missed Thanksgiving.”

  Qay hobbled closer, shaking his head. “Not with Rhoda around. She made Parker bring plates of food.”

  “Why are you walking like that?”

  Jesus Christ. The guy got kidnapped, tortured, operated on, and was probably doped to the gills, yet he still noticed Qay’s limp. “I hurt my foot.”

  Jeremy tried to sit up, but Qay held him down. “Did Davis—” Jeremy began, and Qay realized Jeremy had feared for Qay’s safety.

  “Davis was never anywhere near me,” Qay said soothingly.

  “He hurt himself rescuing your reckless ass,” Rhoda said. “He kicked down a door to get to a phone.”

  Jeremy frowned. “Was gonna buy him a phone. And a laptop. Have to be sneaky to make him accept them.”

  While Rhoda blinked, Qay just shook his head. “I think they’ve got you on the really good stuff, Jeremy.” He was envious.

  “You’re good stuff. We weren’t going to get out of bed all weekend.” Jeremy looked mournfully at his splinted fingers.

  Rhoda’s cough sounded suspiciously like a laugh, so Qay ignored her. He took Jeremy’s good hand and, remembering all the comfort he’d dreamed of when he was hospitalized, gave a warm smile. “We’ll have time for that. We’ll just reschedule. Did you know I get a week off at Christmas?”

  “You for Christmas. Better than a laptop.”

  Jeremy’s eyes dropped closed, and although he opened them a moment later, it was clear he was fighting sleep. Qay leaned forward and placed a careful kiss on his badly chapped lips. “Enjoy that stuff they have pumping through your veins. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I’ll tell you I love you in the morning,” said Jeremy before his lids shut again. This time they stayed that way.

  QAY LOATHED hospitals. He’d forgotten that on Thursday because he was too busy freaking out over Jeremy. But he emphatically remembered on Friday, when he spent the better part of the day at Jeremy’s bedside. Qay tried to concentrate instead on Jeremy, and that worked fine when Jeremy was awake and needed entertaining or assistance. But when he frequently napped, still groggy from the pain meds, Qay had nothing to do but fret. He’d brought his schoolwork but didn’t manage to get much done.

  A doctor arrived late in the afternoon and spent a long time poking and prodding. Qay winced to see Jeremy’s wounds but stayed close by as the doctor explained home care for the days after Jeremy’s release.

  “I can take care of myself,” Jeremy grumbled.

  The doctor—an older man with the bristliest eyebrows Qay had ever seen—shook his head. “No, Jeremy, you can’t. And Qay has my permission to haul you back here if you don’t follow my orders.”

  Jeremy raised an eyebrow, as if doubting that Qay could haul his bulky body anywhere, but Qay scowled. “I’ll do it, even if I have to get Rhoda and Nevin to help.” That threat must have been sufficient, because Jeremy sighed and nodded at the doctor.

  “If you promise to be a good boy, I’ll sign you out,” the doctor said.

  “Fine. I promise.”

  Rhoda drove them to the Marriott in Jeremy’s SUV, which she’d retrieved from the parking garage. She handed Qay a duffel bag containing the spare clothes and toiletries he’d packed that morning before she took him to the hospital. When they got to Jeremy’s room, she set down a big paper sack full of food. “It’s mainly fruits and juices,” she explained. “And some pastries from the shop.”

  “We can order room service,” Jeremy protested from the bed. The short walk had exhausted him, and his face was drawn with pain.

  “Of course you can. But I feel better if I leave you boys with provisions. Jer, do you have shoes you can get on one-handed? If not, I can—”

  “Loafers. Ugly things, but I own them.”

  “You’ll be back in your manly boots soon enough.” She kissed Jeremy quickly on the cheek and then, to Qay’s considerable surprise, tugged him down for a kiss as well. “Ring if you need anything. Even if I can’t do it, Parker’s here for the weekend and willing to be at your beck and call.”

  After she left, Qay helped Jeremy change out of the sweatpants and T-shirt Rhoda had brought to the hospital. He checked Jeremy’s bandages, which looked fine, and settled him into bed. Jeremy blinked up at him. “Will you join me?”

  “You’re not in any shape for sex.”

  “I know. But we can cuddle, right?”

  Even that was difficult due to Jeremy’s injuries, but they eventually found a comfortable position with Jeremy lying flat and Qay draped over his good side, carefully avoiding the burns.

  “I’m sorry,” Jeremy said after a while. “I was stupid, and you could have been killed.”

  “Me? I was safe at home.”

  “They would have come after you next. Hell, if Davis wasn’t such a pea-brain, they’d have taken us both. Then hurt you to get me to talk.”

  Qay sighed. “They hurt you.”

  “That’s not the point. I’ll be okay. But they would have gone after you next, and I couldn’t do anything about it.” His voice
was strained, and Qay could feel the tension in his body.

  “They didn’t, and I’m fine.”

  They were both quiet for a long time. Then Jeremy sighed. “God, I feel zonked.”

  “Pain pills will do that to you.”

  “I hate not… not feeling in control.”

  Qay couldn’t quite suppress a snort. “No big surprise there.”

  “But how could you—” Jeremy stopped very suddenly.

  “How could I let myself get addicted to shit like that? Bad genes and bad decisions.”

  “No, I understand addiction. It’s biology. What I don’t get is how you could stand to have your head messed up like this. Just trying to think, it’s like… like walking through thick mud.”

  “I don’t know.” That wasn’t true. Qay had weathered his muddled head when he was high because cotton wool in his skull was better than the razor wire of his goddamn anxiety. He doubted Jeremy would understand that, though. He’d been tortured, for Christ’s sake, and came out of it kicking himself for not being a better superhero.

  Probably without even realizing, Jeremy stroked Qay’s back. “Qay? If I tell you something, will you believe it’s true and not just the drugs?”

  “Yeah.” Dope didn’t stop you from seeing some things with clarity.

  “Good. It’s something I realized while I was in the factory. Guess it took some knocks to my head to get me to realize the obvious.” Jeremy took a deep breath and let it out. “I love you.”

  Qay froze. He thought Jeremy had forgotten his promise from the night before. “You can’t—”

  “I love you. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but that doesn’t matter. I think the longer I know you, the stronger I’ll feel about you. I’ll fall a little more for you every damn day. But I’m already there, and you need to know that.”

  “I’ve never been in love with anyone,” Qay said carefully.

  “And I don’t expect you to be where I’m at yet. You have more sense than I do. And more insulation around your heart.”

  Qay had no sense at all, and his heart was stripped bare. “I’m with you,” he said quietly. “Right where you are.”

  “You feel the same way?”

  “Yes. And it fucking terrifies me.” There. He’d just handed his raw, vulnerable heart right over.

  Jeremy pulled him tighter. “Love doesn’t have to be scary, Qay. We’re in it together, right?”

  Because Jeremy made it sound as if they were facing a firing squad instead of a relationship, Qay laughed despite the knots in his stomach. Jeremy chuckled too, then groaned when the movement jostled his wounds.

  Qay glanced at the bedside clock and sat up. “You’re due for another dose.” He stood and headed for the desk, where Jeremy had left the little paper bag containing his meds.

  Jeremy struggled to sit up, and this time Qay was too far away to stop him. “Don’t, Qay. I can skip it. No big deal.”

  Ignoring him, Qay filled a drinking glass from the bathroom sink and grabbed the bag as he crossed to the bed. He wordlessly set the glass on the nightstand, pulled out a pill bottle, opened the cap, and removed a pill. He held it out to Jeremy. “Take it.”

  “Qay—”

  “Yeah, I want to fix right now. But you need this and you can’t open the fucking bottle one-handed. Take it.”

  After a pause, Jeremy obeyed. When the pill was no longer in his hand, Qay felt a small rush of relief mingled with disappointment, but he watched Jeremy place the tiny thing on his tongue and wash it down with the water Qay handed him. Jeremy fell back on his pillows as if he’d just finished a strenuous task. “Thank you.”

  “You have to understand this about me, Jeremy. I’m always going to want to fix. And every time I see a pill bottle or a glass of booze, or every time the demons start trying to claw their way out of my skull, I’m going to want it even more.”

  Jeremy tightened his jaw. “I can do without the damn pills. I won’t drink. And I’ll be here when the demons are after you.”

  Qay shook his head and ignored the stomach roil, knowing Jeremy didn’t get it. But now wasn’t the time to argue, not while Jeremy was hurting and tired and partway out of it. They’d have plenty of time to travel this uneven ground later.

  The meds made Jeremy sleepy. Qay helped him eat a little—part of a fancy sandwich Rhoda had packed, as well as some beef noodle soup from room service—then watched as Jeremy fell asleep. Even with the bandages and bruising and passage of three decades, Qay could see the boy he used to be. Same fair skin and pale hair, same wide mouth. And the poor sap was in love with damaged misfit Qay.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  IT WAS a little like a honeymoon, only with subdued sex due to Jeremy’s injuries. Even quiet sex was good, though. On Saturday morning, neither of them complained when Qay started out by rubbing ointment into the circular burns on Jeremy’s chest and ended up licking his way down those taut abs to Jeremy’s cock. And when Qay climbed into bed that night, both of them naked, Jeremy used his good hand to stroke Qay to a climax that had Qay gasping against Jeremy’s neck.

  Both men were restless by Sunday, so Qay helped Jeremy dress and arranged his arm in a sling, and they went for a slow walk around downtown. They strolled through a couple of Jeremy’s parks, where he pointed out some of the features as proudly as if he’d put them there, and they had lunch at a quiet Lebanese place. After that, Jeremy grinned and insisted they visit Powell’s bookstore, where Qay went into such sensory overload that they had to sit in the café and drink hot chocolate until he calmed. He ended up with three books, even though he didn’t really need them and could barely afford them. He refused to let Jeremy pay and, in fact, insisted on paying for Jeremy’s thick volume on plant evolution, thankfully at a used-book price.

  As they were slowly walking back, a patrol car passed them. The officer inside waved at Jeremy, who waved back. The sight of the black-and-white started a chain of thoughts in Qay’s head, and at the end of it, he asked, “Where do you think that thumb drive is?”

  Jeremy gave him a sidelong glance. “Does it matter?”

  “Might help the case against those fuckers. But mostly I’m just curious.”

  “I’m not sure the damned thing even exists. Planning ahead on something like that was never Donny’s style. I bet he got desperate for cash and cooked up the whole blackmail scheme out of nothing. He was reckless enough to do something like that, and Davis was dumb enough to fall for it.”

  Qay shook his head, dumbfounded at the damage compulsion and lies could cause.

  When they got back to the hotel, Jeremy needed a nap. Qay sat at the desk to do his homework, pretending the pain pills weren’t just a few strides away.

  Late that evening, Jeremy looked up from his book, which he’d been reading in the chair by the window. A wicked smile curled the corners of his mouth. “Will you help me shower?”

  Qay would. He’d never showered with anyone before, and the hotel tub was crowded with the two of them, but who cared when all that warm, wet skin was right there. They had to be careful of the gunshot wound, which was fairly easy, but avoiding the burns was harder because they both yearned for attention to Jeremy’s big, round nipples—Jeremy because they were one of his favorite erogenous zones, Qay because he loved how Jeremy moaned and clutched Qay’s hair when Qay played with them. But Jeremy had plenty of other parts to play with, and they intrigued Qay too. When Jeremy leaned forward against the tile and canted his ass backward and Qay slowly lathered soap over those big, strong muscles, they both groaned with pleasure.

  “God,” Jeremy said when Qay slipped his fingers into the tight cleft. Jeremy looked over his shoulder at Qay. “Did you know sex releases natural endorphins? So if you fuck me right now, you’ll be helping me heal.”

  Qay moved forward slightly to grasp Jeremy’s hips and rub his own erection against that enticing flesh. He licked the knobs of Jeremy’s spine and the point of his right shoulder blade. Slightly soapy; tasted good.
“You want me to play doctor?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Please?” Jeremy arched his back a bit, pressing his ass more firmly against Qay.

  “Bed.” Qay’s foot and ankle were still a little sore, and the last thing either of them needed was to collapse in a twisted heap inside the slippery tub.

  But when they neared the bed—Jeremy groping him one-handed the entire way—they realized their condom stash was at Qay’s apartment. “I’ll go find a drugstore,” Qay said, but Jeremy caught him before he could move away.

  “We’ll be fine without. It’s been almost eight months since I had sex with anyone else, and I tested clean just last week.”

  Qay raised his eyebrows. “You just got tested?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  Jeremy pulled him flush against his body and nuzzled his neck, making Qay shiver. “I was hoping we’d be… I don’t know. Exclusive. Real. Permanent. Can we be those things?”

  Christ. Qay wanted that desperately, with a craving deeper than any he’d felt for drugs or alcohol. But a man as broken as he was couldn’t make those kind of promises. Instead of answering, he kissed Jeremy, and if Jeremy took that as a yes, well, Qay could add that lie to the others on his conscience.

  Standing naked beside the bed, they made out until Qay’s foot throbbed and Jeremy growled with disgust over clutching Qay’s ass with only one hand. They fell onto the bed harder than was advisable. Jeremy oofed but kept Qay pressed against him. “I do have lube. It’s in the drawer, next to the Bible.”

  Qay opened the drawer and retrieved the little bottle. “I hadn’t realized the Gideons had become so useful.”

  “They haven’t. I bought it to fly solo when I was being too big of a dumbshit to talk to you.”

  “I think we can find a better use for it,” Qay said, smiling.

  “Much, much better.”

  With a slight grunt, Jeremy worked his way out from underneath Qay and turned onto his belly. He spread his legs invitingly and turned his head to look at Qay. “I’m waiting.”

  “That’s not hurting your burns?”