by J. M. Colail
She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to reply, but quickly closed it again. With as much dignity as she could muster, Marian located her handbag and coat and walked out of the apartment. John listened to her leave, knowing he would have to apologize later, but right now David needed him. Marian didn’t.
He sighed and focused his attention on David’s shirt. Several of the buttons had been torn off, leaving only a couple for John to undo, exposing the remnants of a threadbare T-shirt. He glanced up at David’s face to gauge whether or not to continue; his expression was difficult to read, but the desperate fear had left his eyes. John lifted the hem of the T-shirt and swore at the mass of red and purple bruises covering David’s midriff. “Shit, David. I’m phoning a doctor. This needs to be looked at.”
David lifted his hand and put it on John’s, determined to push the worn fabric back down. “I’m okay,” he mumbled. “Just need… need to clean up… please.”
John looked at David’s hand covering his. “You really need a doctor, David.”
“Please, John,” David whispered, tightening his grip.
Although unconvinced, John nodded and David quickly withdrew his hand as if embarrassed by the contact. John rose silently and walked into the bathroom. He turned the taps on full and watched the steady rush of water as it began to cover the bottom of the bath. The room was already filling up with steam when John returned to crouch by David’s side. “The bath is running if you want to go through.”
David nodded and took a pained breath before standing. He gripped the back of the chair and closed his eyes. John slowly stood and placed a gentle palm on David’s back. “It’s okay. I’ll give you a hand.”
It surprised John when David gave another small nod, opened his eyes and began to walk to the bathroom.
The bathroom had nearly filled with steam, diffusing the harsh light above the mirror as John leaned over to check the temperature of the water. It was nearly ready. David began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt cuffs, but the constant tremor of his hand made the small black button slip out of his grasp. The more he tried the more distressed he became until John’s fingers closed softly over his hand. John didn’t say anything as he gently moved David’s hand away and slipped the button through the hole. He paused briefly at the tiny red heart tattooed in the creases of David’s wrist, wanting to ask about it, but knowing this was not the time or place. He undid the other cuff and slid the shirt off, laying it on a little wooden chair.
David let John remove his T-shirt, but dropped his head as the hot flush of shame crept over his face. He didn’t want John to see him like that; too thin, dirty, and blemished with bruises old and new. David swallowed repeatedly when John knelt on the floor and carefully removed first one boot and then the other. Although he was forced to grip John’s shoulder to keep his balance, David quickly let go as soon as the task was completed. It was one thing for John to touch him….
“Um, you need to take off your trousers,” John said quietly before he straightened and turned to shut off the water flow. “Do you want me to leave?”
The thought of John seeing him naked horrified David, but he knew he’d need help getting into the bath. He attempted to slow his breathing and with gritted teeth set his fingers to work on his fly. The button was larger and he was able to unfasten it with relative ease; he slid the zipper down and lowered his pants, wobbling slightly as he stepped out of them.
Glancing over, John experienced a mix of anger and regret at the sight of David’s body. It could have been so beautiful under different circumstances. But he quickly looked away, seeing David’s embarrassment. “It’s okay, Dave. Come on.” John held out his hands and supported David while he tentatively stepped into the bath.
Once in the warmth of the water, David’s resolve left him. He pulled his knees up and turned his face to the wall. I shouldn’t have come here…. I should have stayed in the park. It’s wrong for John to have to do this.
John stood and watched him for a moment at a loss of what to do. He knew he should give David some privacy but didn’t want to leave him. He hovered at the edge of the bathroom door before making a decision. “I’ll get you something to wear. Take your time.”
A barely perceptible nod of the head was the only indication that David had heard him.
John walked to his bedroom, where he gathered the same clothes he gave David to sleep in the last time and some bed linen to make up the couch.
While tucking in the blanket John kept playing one thing over and over in his head. He came to me. After the way I treated him, he still came to me. By the time the bed was made John almost itched to be back in the bathroom with David.
When John carried the clothes to the bathroom he saw that David had managed to lift himself out of the bath and was sitting on its edge wrapped in John’s favorite bath sheet. He was clean and the cut had finally stopped bleeding. He looked up at John, exhaustion clear in his eyes.
“They’re the same ones as last time,” John said for want of something better to say and left the track pants and T-shirt on the chair. He gave David an almost shy smile and left him to dress.
Once out the door, John didn’t venture far from the bathroom and leaned against the wall watching his hands rub nervously together until David emerged. David was slightly startled by John’s close proximity, but settled when he saw the bed made up for him; he needed to sleep.
John straightened up quickly, his hand raised as if to touch David’s arm before dropping equally fast to his side. He saw David looking at the makeshift bed and shook his head. “Oh um, that’s for me. You can have… ah, my bed tonight.” John blushed a little at the mention of his bed and mentally kicked himself for wording it that way. David looked at him curiously, making John feel even more flustered. He attempted a quick cover-up with the action of moving into the bedroom, hoping David would follow. “The bedroom is through here. It’s a warm bed, but the heater switch is there if you get cold.” John suddenly ran out of words, feeling very self-conscious standing so close to David in his bedroom. Sensing John’s discomfort, David misinterpreted its origin; he lowered his face and mumbled “Thank you.”
John nodded and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and grabbed a glass, which he promptly filled with scotch. He gulped a couple of mouthfuls before rubbing his fingers wearily over his eyes. What the hell are you doing, McCann?
THE GREEN glow of the DVD display was the only thing John could see when he sat up startled out of a troubled sleep. He didn’t know what had woken him so suddenly and found it difficult to orientate himself in the gloom of the windowless room. He sat on the edge of the couch waiting for the rush of his heartbeat to cease in his ears so he could listen to the sounds of the apartment…. Nothing. He stood up and moved nearer to his bedroom door. When he heard no obvious sounds John carefully opened the door. The stream of moonlight through the open curtains made the room seem bright in comparison to the living room; John could easily see David asleep in his bed. He stood quietly in the doorway watching the rise and fall of the quilt matching the steady wheeze of breathing. John grimaced at the tightening of his chest and the need to make an admission. Fucking hell, I’m in trouble here.
Chapter 7
CONSCIOUSNESS SLOWLY invaded David’s sleep and along with it came the steady thump of a headache. He lay still, taking the time to wake up fully before even attempting to open his eyes. Rather than preparing for the usual regret of waking, David allowed his body to relax in the warmth of the bed. The sheets smelled vaguely of John. Turning his face slightly into the pillow, David rested his nose against the pillowcase and breathed deeply. It was only then that he noticed the sound of light snoring. He must have heard it before but it hadn’t registered. He was used to the sound of snoring bodies nearby; frequently it was only exhaustion that enabled him to sleep among the noise of the men’s shelter. He frowned and instantly regretted the action when the dried
cut in his hairline threatened to split.
David opened his eyes; the morning light sent a bolt of pain shooting into his already aching head. He groaned and squinted until his eyes acclimatized to the intrusion of daylight.
The other side of the bed was empty. Stretching his hand out under the covers, David slid it across the mattress. Seeing the movement of the quilt charting its progress he wondered vaguely which side of the bed John usually slept on… which was his pillow? David sighed. It was ridiculous that he was thinking such thoughts.
A snort suddenly interrupted the snoring before settling back into a steady and louder rhythm. David realized it was behind him. He carefully pulled his hand back and braced it against the mattress to turn over. Every joint and muscle complained at the movement; the pain of rolling over momentarily took his breath away. But now he was looking at John.
John was asleep in the wingback armchair in the corner of the room, the blanket from the couch draped over one shoulder and down across his knees. One leg was tucked under his body and his head tipped to one side, resting on his palm. David couldn’t help but smile at the sight of John open-mouthed and snoring at full bellow. Completely unguarded in his dreams.
David had lost track of how long he’d been watching John sleep when he was startled by the shrill buzz of the alarm clock. John woke with a grunt, almost tipping the chair as he jumped up, eyes darting unfocused around the room. It took him a few seconds to realize what had happened and then he walked over to the nightstand. He gave David a sheepish grin and shrugged. “Ah, sorry. I forgot to switch that off last night.”
A wave of self-consciousness flushed through David as he lay in John’s bed. He glanced away and mumbled a quick “It’s okay.”
John silently cursed himself for not waking sooner so he could creep back to the couch unnoticed; he moved away from David to look out the window. The morning was gray and the thin light had a harsh edge. He absently raised his arms above his head, a hand on each elbow, and stretched, twisting his head until he felt that satisfying pop of his joints. He ached from the night spent in the chair but played it down with a shrug. “I’m getting too old for that.” He smiled, tilting his head toward the wingback.
David frowned and looked at John, who now felt the need to explain. “Look. Last night I was worried. You didn’t seem too… um… together, and I kept thinking I should have called a doctor.” His explanation trailed off.
David thought about this for a moment, then looked at the chair and said quietly, “I’m okay now. I’ll get dressed and go.” He made to get out of the bed, but his clenched jaw gave away how the simple movement had sent pain rocketing through his rib cage. John instantly held out his hand in an action reminiscent of someone trying to soothe a frightened animal; his voice came out louder than intended. “No… what I mean is, this time you have to let me make you breakfast.”
Although momentarily stilled, David mumbled, “I don’t usually eat breakfast.”
“Well today you do. You missed out on a good fry-up last time,” John countered, not willing to give up.
David’s stomach rolled at the thought of eating, his head pounding sickly. He ran his fingers tentatively over his forehead and said, “Please, John… just coffee?”
John smiled, nodded, and headed into the kitchen. Shit, stop overcompensating and give him some fucking breathing room. He leaned palms-down against the bench in an attempt to gather his thoughts. Okay, calm down. Make him a drink. Maybe he could manage some toast and actually talk to the man!
With the coffee brewing, his tea in the pot, and bread in the toaster, John finally started to feel like he had some control over the situation. He set up a tray with two cups, napkins, a glass of water, and a strip of aspirin… not for himself for a change.
While spreading a generous layer of marmalade on the hot toast, John started to understand that David’s first meal of the day was probably the sandwich he shared with Jamie and that he’d never actually considered what David did when the store was closed on Sundays. In fact he knew nothing about David.
With the tray set up, John made his way back into the bedroom. When he came through the door David pushed himself upright in the bed, grimacing until he eased back against the headboard. John used the edge of the tray to move the clock and lamp back to make space on the nightstand for their breakfast. When it was safely situated he pulled the wingback chair closer to the bed. It was heavier and took more effort than John had anticipated, but he was determined not to let David see that he struggled with its weight. That done, John smiled briefly before sitting down and swallowing a large gulp of his tea.
Up until then David had been sitting quietly watching John organize their breakfast setting. He looked at the tray, feeling a little overwhelmed that John had gone to so much trouble for him. He reached for the aspirin, hesitated, and glanced up at John as if seeking permission before downing three tablets. He closed his eyes for a moment as a wave of nausea followed the pills. John saw David’s response to the medication and said in a very soft voice, “Try to eat something; it’ll help.”
David picked up a piece of toast and tentatively bit the hard crust, chewing slowly and carefully. “You know, maybe you should stay here today? Take it easy?” John suggested, staring at his fingers holding his cup a little too tightly. “Jamie is going to be an absolute nightmare when he finds out you’re back.”
Still chewing his first bite, David smiled at the thought of Jamie pestering John for details, and had to admit the offer sounded good. “Thank you, John. Please tell him I’m okay.”
John nodded but didn’t smile back as he asked, “What happened last night? Who did this to you?”
“Just kids. Drunk and looking for an easy target, I guess,” David answered with a dismissive shrug.
“Fucking hell, David,” John cursed. “How can you treat it like that?”
Keeping his eyes down, David lay the slice of toast back on the plate and picked up his coffee. “It happens.”
“To you? Has it happened to you before?” John asked, leaning forward in his chair. David just nodded and took a sip of coffee.
John couldn’t believe it; he felt physically sick that anyone could find entertainment in beating someone up. He replaced his cup on the tray and caught the time on the clock behind it. “Shite. I gotta go or Jamie will be up those stairs looking for me. I’ll see you later, okay?” He waited until David agreed then grabbed some clothes and dashed into the living room to change before heading down to the store and the barrage of questions he knew would be waiting for him once he admitted to David’s return.
JOHN WAS just unlocking the front door of the store when Jamie walked up behind him. “You’re running late this morning,” Jamie said, stamping his feet against the cold.
John braced himself for the onslaught and said without looking around, “David’s back.”
Jamie’s feet instantly stilled. “When? How do you know? Where is he?” He whirled around as if David would magically appear near him.
John rolled his eyes and said, “Inside first; it’s bloody cold.”
He couldn’t help but grin at Jamie, who virtually bounced through the door and past him to the counter. “Okay, we’re in. Tell me!”
“David turned up at my place last night,” John paused, unsure how to tell Jamie what had happened. “He’d gotten into a bit of trouble; been in a fight.”
“No way! David wouldn’t hit anyone,” Jamie stated adamantly.
John shook his head, sighed and explained, “They hit him but he’s okay. Just bruised and sore.”
“Fucking bastards. Where is he?” Jamie asked, pretty sure that John wouldn’t have sent him away, but needed to be certain.
“He stayed the night and is upstairs finishing his breakfast,” John said in a voice that managed to sound a lot calmer than he felt about it all.
Relieved, Jamie broke into a huge grin. “He came to you, John.”
A whole swarm of butterflies suddenly took fl
ight in John’s stomach. He turned away, blushing furiously, and grumbled, “Get the register set up, Jamie, and keep your mind on the day’s business.”
Jamie cracked open a roll of coins and hummed happily, not even trying to hide his amusement at John’s embarrassment.
JOHN WAS on the phone with a supplier when he saw David enter the store. He was dressed in his old clothes, the torn shirt just visible under his jacket. Although steady on his feet, John noticed how pale David was, emphasizing the ugly bruise coming out around his left eye and cheek. He smiled and nodded “hello” at David, who returned the gesture.
As David started to make his way through the store, Jamie spotted him and with a shout of “Davey” dashed over. Mid-movement, Jamie stopped himself from launching into a hug and gently stroked his hand down David’s damaged face instead. He whispered sadly, “Shit, Dave…,” but was unable to finish the sentence, finding himself uncharacteristically lost for words.
David lifted his hand and placed it over Jamie’s. “I’m okay.”
Jamie knew to leave it at that and said, “I’ll make you some tea to have with lunch, yeah?” David nodded and smiled at Jamie before turning to find his bookmarked novel and sitting in his chair.
John had left David alone for most of the day, starting to understand his need for routine; however, when he went to the back of the store to retrieve an order he noticed that David had fallen asleep. John quietly crouched beside the chair, lifted the paperback, and carefully replaced the red bookmark. When David didn’t stir, John put his hand gently on David’s arm and said, “Come on, Dave. Here are my keys. Head upstairs.” He fished his keys out of his pocket and put them on David’s open palm. David blinked awake and looked blankly at the keys sitting in his hand, not quite comprehending what was happening. John curled David’s fingers over the keys and stood up with the instruction, “Upstairs, Dave. You need to rest. I’ll be up after we close.”