No Limits

by Nora Phoenix

  “Yeah, but keep talking to me, please.”

  Connor made senseless small talk until the ambulance pulled up, lights blazing and sirens on until they pulled up in the driveway. Noah was transferred to a stretcher and wheeled in in no time. Connor’s muscles were screaming in relief, and he rubbed his arms hard to get them to relax.

  “Is one of you riding with him?” the paramedic asked.

  “I can’t,” Josh said, panic visible in his eyes.

  “You guys go. We’ll drive to the hospital,” Connor decided. Josh handed him his phone and wallet. He quickly punched in the number again “Dispatch, this is O’Connor again, 785. Ambulance has arrived. Thank you.”

  “10-4 O’Connor.”

  “Okay, let’s find Indy, and we’ll head for the hospital.”

  They hurried inside, expected to find Indy there. Two minutes later they had searched the entire house, and he was nowhere to be found. “He’s gone,” Josh said, dragging a shaky hand through his hair. “How could he do that? Noah needs him.”

  Connor sighed. “He had a lot to deal with the last two days with me discovering who he was. Maybe it was all too much. He’ll come back, baby. He loves Noah, and you, too.”

  Josh closed his eyes, drew in a ragged breath. “I can’t lose him, Connor.”

  Connor didn’t hesitate, pulled him close and hugged him tightly. “Don’t allow your mind to go there. You’ll break if you do. Stay grounded in the now, okay? I’m right here with you.”

  Josh leaned in, nodded with his cheek against Connor’s.

  “Let’s go to the hospital. We’ll leave the back door open so Indy can get in if he comes back.”

  He kept making small talk in the car, constantly drawing Josh back to reality. Fuck, if he slipped into an episode, things would really get fucked up. He parked the car—luckily the parking lot was all but empty at this time—and held on tight to Josh's hand as they walked inside. It hadn’t even occurred to him he was in a way coming out as gay until he ran into a colleague.

  “O’Connor,” Mack said. His eyes widened as they trailed to Josh's hand, firmly entwined in Connor’s. “What brings you here?”

  “Mack,” Connor nodded. Josh's hand stilled in his. Connor had expected to be nervous when the time came, but he wasn’t. All he felt was a deep inner peace, a sense of doing the right thing. “This is Josh, my boyfriend. A friend of ours was brought in, so we’re checking up on him.”

  To Mack’s credit, he didn’t react in any way other than that slight widening of his eyes. “Nice to meet you, Josh, though I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances. I’m Oliver Mack.” He didn’t extend his hand, but maybe that was because Josh's right hand was in Connor’s.

  Josh merely nodded, his body tense.

  “Captain said you took a few days off,” Mack said, his voice trailing off at the end. His curiosity wasn’t unexpected as Connor had never taken a day off so far.

  “I needed to be there for our friend. Listen, Mack, we need to go. I’ll talk to you soon.” Connor was firm, gave Mack a courtesy nod and walked on. Josh followed him wordlessly.

  “Josh!” A petite, fifty-something woman in nurses’ scrubs spotted them, walked up quickly. She halted awkwardly when she noticed them holding hands. Of course, people would stare. This was Noah’s workplace, and they all thought Josh was Noah’s boyfriend. Noah would not have brought Indy here, what with everyone having met him as a female patient. Shit, what should he do? He didn’t want to let go of Josh's hand. First of all because he wanted to claim him, but also because he needed him grounded. Still, he loosened his grip slightly, signaling to Josh it was his choice. As a reaction, Josh held on even tighter.

  “How is he?” Josh managed to say, the first words he’d spoken since the car ride.

  “You know I’m not allowed to say anything as a nurse,” the woman said.

  “Come on, Judy, you know as much as any doctor here, at least that’s what Noah always says, and you know he doesn’t give a shit about you breaking rank,” Josh said.

  She smiled. “No, he wouldn’t,” she relented. “He’s not doing well, honey. I’m sorry. His fever is spiking, and they suspect the infection is spreading. They’re doing rush blood work. Owens has called in the surgical attending.”

  Josh clamped Connor’s hand so hard, he was bound to have bruises tomorrow. “What’s the worst-case scenario?”

  Judy put her hand on Josh's shoulder. “Worst case it develops into sepsis, and his organs start shutting down. Or it spreads too far in his leg, and they have to amputate the entire leg.”

  “That fucking idiot,” Josh let out. “Sorry, Judy.”

  “No worries, honey, it’s nothing I haven’t heard from Noah before. Why don’t you wait in the family room, and I’ll let Owens know you’re here.”

  With a last curious glance at their hands, Judy left, and they walked into the family room. It was blissfully empty. Connor found a spot on a comfy reading chair. Without hesitation, Josh crawled onto his lap, resting his head against Connor’s shoulder.

  “Josh, I know you need my physical presence, and I love holding you like this, but do we need to be worried about what people here will think and say? It’s Noah’s place of work, and I don’t want things to get awkward for him.”

  Josh closed his eyes, leaned in even farther and snuggled up against Connor. “I don’t give a shit, and neither would Noah. We don’t explain ourselves to others, you know.”

  It was an approach that was completely foreign to Connor. In the Marines, he’d done everything he could to keep his sexual orientation a secret. He’d never said anything, not even to Lucas, had not even approached those who were known or rumored to be gay. Fuck, he’d hooked up with a few fellow Marines, but even with them, he’d never talked. Lucas must’ve known, but they had never discussed it. Connor had kept his head low, hadn’t wanted to make waves.

  When he became a cop, he’d done pretty much the same. Until he’d run into Mack ten minutes ago and had claimed Josh as his boyfriend. Even then, he’d done it more to show Josh he was making good on his promise to be open about it than because he wanted to come out as gay. To him it had always felt like an either/or situation: either you pretended to be straight, or you publicly came out as gay. Maybe there was a third way: doing what you wanted, not explaining anything and not giving a damn about what people might think or say. It seemed to work for Noah and Josh.

  They sat there for maybe fifteen minutes in complete silence, Connor softly rubbing Josh's back, when an older guy in scrubs stepped in. “Josh, how are you holding up?” He extended his hand to Connor, thankfully completely ignoring the awkwardness of finding his employee’s boyfriend in the arms of another man. “Owens, the ER attending, and Noah’s boss. You look familiar.”

  “O’Connor. I’m with the Albany PD, so I’ve been in a few times. How is he?”

  Owens pulled up a chair. “Not well. He was in and out of consciousness but not alert. We’ve put him in a medically induced coma, for now, to give his body rest. His fever is high, and we’re worried about the infection spreading further and resulting in multi-organ failure. He’s on high-dose antibiotics right now. If we don’t see improvement in the next couple of hours, we need a plan B. Josh, Noah’s health care proxy lists you as his agent for medical decisions, so you need to let us know what you want us to do.”

  Josh turned his head toward Owens, but he never left his spot on Connor’s lap. It gave Connor a strange satisfaction he mattered enough for Josh to do that, to not care what people would say or think. “What are the options?”

  “I fear we may need to amputate more of his leg. The stump is badly infected, and it’s spreading. The previous amputation was at his knee, but the orthopedic surgeon thinks we’ll need to go mid-thigh, and I agree with him. That may be our best shot.”

  “Does waiting longer increase the risk?” Josh wanted to know.

  “Unfortunately, yes. If amputation is a feasible option for you, sooner would be bet
ter. But if you want, I can have the orthopedic attending explain this to you since he would be the one doing the surgery.”

  “No need. Do the amputation.”

  Owens’ eyes widened at Josh's fast answer. “Are you sure that’s what Noah would want?”

  “Listen, doc, the choice is simple. He can live without his entire leg. He cannot live without his organs. The stump has bothered him ever since the amputation in the CSH. He’s been in constant pain, and even with the prosthesis, it was always a struggle. He said more than once it never fully healed. Maybe a higher amputation will give him more mobility instead of less.”

  “I agree with you when it comes to the risks. However, an amputation now is far from ideal. Cutting when there’s already an infection is high risk, as the surgery itself could spread it. I would be remiss if I didn’t make you aware of that risk.”

  “I appreciate that, but my decision stands. And, doc, you know Noah has a living will. He’s an organ donor and doesn’t want extraordinary measures if it would mean a permanent vegetative state.”

  Owens’ eyes filled with compassion. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’ll send Judy in with some papers for you to sign, but for now, I’ve got my marching orders. Hang in there, Josh. It’s gonna be a long day.”

  Connor didn’t know what to say to Josh. What was there to say at this point? Even if they weren’t together in the conventional sense, Josh and Noah were closer than many lovers, spouses even. If Noah didn’t survive this… Connor didn’t even want to think about what that would do to Josh.

  And Indy. He should be here, should be involved in these decisions. It was understandable his name wasn’t on any official papers, what with their relationship being new and Indy living under a fake name, but he should have a say in this.

  Josh was still on his lap, his face hidden against Connor’s chest, his body tense. How could Connor provide him with what he needed to get through this? There was so little he could say or do to make it even remotely better.

  Josh mumbled something Connor didn’t hear. He kissed the top of his head. “Sorry, baby, what was that?”

  “I need you to fuck me.”

  Noah is dying.

  It was all Josh could think of, again and again and again. Noah was dying. His best friend was dying. The thought was so big, that it threatened to take over, hold him captive. Josh clenched his fists, struggling to stay grounded and not let himself sink into the maelstrom of emotions.

  “I don’t understand,” Connor said.

  “Make me stop thinking. I’m going mad, Connor. Help me.”

  So he was a sick bastard for wanting to get fucked while his best friend was dying. Whatever, he didn’t give a shit. It was either that or surrendering to the madness threatening to take him. Pain and pleasure, both would help him stay grounded. Yet he didn’t dare to look at Connor, fearing the rejection and judgment in his eyes.

  “Not here,” Connor growled.

  Josh leaned back, found Connor’s eyes. He saw understanding, love. Relief flooded him, made him tingle. “You’ll do it?”

  “We wait till you’ve signed the papers, and we go somewhere else, leave our cell numbers.”

  “Our house?”

  Connor shook his head. “Mine. I live close by.”

  Connor’s house. Or apartment. Josh didn’t even know where the man lived. How seriously disturbed was that? He called Connor his boyfriend, yet he didn’t even know the basics, like his address. Or his date of birth.

  “How old are you anyways?”

  “Noah didn’t tell you when he did his little research into me?”

  “He did what?”

  “You didn’t know? Typical. Noah checked me out after I’d been to your house. I guess he wanted to know who he was dealing with. Come to think of it, he never made the link to the Fitzpatricks. He must have seen my mother’s maiden name.”

  Josh leaned back against Connor’s chest, reveling in the safety it brought him. It was like hiding behind a strong wall. “Indy hadn’t told us back then, so it wouldn’t have meant anything to him.”

  “That makes sense. I’m 32 by the way.”

  Four years older than Josh. He felt older, somehow, even though he didn’t look it.

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  Connor chuckled. “What’s this, twenty questions?”

  “I don’t know the first thing about you.”

  “You know the most important things,” Connor interjected.

  “True. But I’d like to fill in some of the details. Humor me.”

  “Marine blue.”

  “Movie?”

  “Gladiator.”

  “Music?”

  “I barely listen to music. I dunno, eighties rock?”

  “First kiss?”

  “Dana Rogers, eleventh grade, after my high school football team won the state championships. She was the head cheerleader, and I scored the winning touchdown. Obviously, I didn’t want to admit I was gay yet.”

  “First time sex?”

  Connor laughed. “Dana Rogers, eleventh grade, after my high school football team won the state championships. Yeah, she was what was known as easy, and I was a nervous virgin who wanted to experiment. Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

  Josh smiled, felt some of the tension leaving his body. “Luckily, you’ve learned a thing or two since then.”

  Judy came with the papers, and Josh signed each one without hesitation. This was the right thing to do. Noah had never been a proponent of the wait-and-see approach. He was a man of action, wanted to do something rather than leave things to chance. He gave Judy both their cell numbers, had her promise to call them if anything changed.

  “I need to make a quick call,” Josh said. “Noah’s dad. They haven’t talked to each other in almost a year, but he needs to know.”

  Connor nodded. “Make the call.”

  Josh called the general, didn’t use more words than necessary to update the man on Noah’s condition. He hung up in a little over a minute, deeply relieved that was done. “Let’s go,” he said.

  Wordlessly, they drove to Connor’s house. More precisely, Connor drove, and Josh watched him. No, he didn’t know many of the basic details yet, but Connor had been right. Josh did know the most important things. The fact that Connor was calm in a crisis, decisive. That he was protective as hell when it came to Josh and would do anything to shield him. Connor was a rock he could lean on, take shelter behind.

  Connor parked in the lot of a widespread apartment complex. Silently, Josh followed him as he opened a door, walked up one flight of stairs to a dark blue door. No name shield, nothing to make it personal. If Josh had to take a guess, he’d bet the apartment was sterile inside, empty of anything personal.

  Connor closed the door behind them, turned the bolt into place.

  “Strip,” he told Josh.

  A shiver tore through him. “Here?”

  “That’s one strike. Three strikes and you’ll pay.”

  Fuck, yes. This.

  This was what Josh wanted, what he craved. For Connor to take over so he could shut his brain down. He kicked off his shoes, not bothering with the laces. He unbuckled his belt, shoved his jeans down his hips, taking his boxers with him. His socks and shirt came off next, and he stood naked before Connor, his cock already growing hard.

  “Undress me.”

  He reached for Connor’s belt, but Connor’s hand grabbed his wrist. “Yes, Connor,” he commanded.

  Tears of relief burned in Josh's eyes. How did this man know exactly what he needed? Did it feel as good for Connor as it did for him when he submitted? If it did, he didn’t want anything else but to obey. It felt so right.

  “Yes, Connor.”

  He reached again for Connor’s belt, and this time, he was allowed. Josh unbuttoned the jeans, gently pulled them down. Shoes. He should have taken Connor’s shoes off first.

  He kneeled, not in the least embarrassed by his nakedness, unti
ed Connor’s shoelaces and took off his shoes. After that, the jeans and socks followed suit. Connor’s jacket came off. He lifted his arms so Josh could pull his sweater and shirt off. All that was left were his boxers. Well, technically, Noah’s boxers.

  Josh put both his hands on the waistband and pulled them down. Connor’s massive cock sprung free, halfway hard already. He dropped to his knees again to let Connor step out of his underwear. It brought the man’s cock practically in his face, and he couldn’t resist a quick lick.

  Connor stepped back immediately. “Two strikes. Did I say you could touch my cock?”

  Josh stayed kneeling, waiting for further instructions. “No, Connor.”

  Connor opened a door that led to his bedroom. A dark mahogany four-poster queen-size was perfectly made with a dark blue comforter. It looked like it had never even been slept in.

  “On your back on the bed, your head hanging over the edge. I wanna fuck your mouth.”

  Josh slowly made his way to the bed. If Connor wanted Josh to suck him off, why didn’t he let him kneel? He climbed on, lowered himself on his back and scooted over until his head hung over the edge. Immediately, he realized what the idea was. He’d seen it in enough porn videos. This position allowed Connor to literally fuck Josh's mouth deep, deeper than in another position. It gave Connor almost complete control. Fuck, he was vulnerable like this. If Connor pushed his monster cock too far in, he could hurt Josh. He wouldn’t be able to breathe, not with the Beast stuffed in his mouth.

  Connor would never hurt you. This knowledge filled him, gave him peace of mind. Allowing Connor to be dominant meant trusting him to know what was best. He would never hurt Josh in a way that didn’t bring pleasure. The peace returned, and Josh surrendered.

  “Yes, Connor.”

  Only then did he realize Connor had waited for his submission, his permission basically. He hadn’t done anything until Josh had signaled his agreement with those two simple words.

  “Open up,” Connor said, a deep sound of satisfaction in his voice. He positioned himself above Josh, his legs spread wide to get the right height.

  Josh opened his mouth, relaxed. The crown of the Beast teased his cheek, then his chin.