Forcing himself to stay in his seat, Riv let Ducks take the lead. He wasn’t going to step on his feet, not by jumping in and introducing himself. He wouldn’t do it to a friend who could talk for himself and he wouldn’t do it to Ducks.
This is Riv. The man who single-handedly got me safely off Maltana. Riv, this is Dr. Terrell.
“Single-handedly?” Riv shrugged uncomfortably, more than a little embarrassed. And pleased, although that one was harder to admit, if only because it sounded conceited. “I wouldn’t exactly say that.”
“Modest and helpful, I see.” Dr. Terrell smiled benevolently, and Riv felt himself flush under the assessing gaze, unsure if he was hearing sarcasm or not.
“I did what I could. I’m just glad Du—ah, Pryce, is doing so well.”
“He’s making great strides,” the doctor said, taking a moment to clap the patient in question on the shoulder. “I do wonder though, if you have a moment during your visit, if you might be willing to enlighten me with details that Pryce may not recall.”
“I suppose I could do that. There’s probably not a whole lot to tell, though.” Somehow, the thought of being alone with this man, doctor or no doctor, wasn’t particularly comfortable.
“Oh, it will be fine. I’m sure you remember much more than you think you do. And that will help Pryce along with his recovery.” Dr. Terrell didn’t elaborate, and Riv wondered in a rather disgruntled fashion if he was using it as a guilt motivator. “Pryce will show you to my office. Tomorrow, let’s say? I have an opening in my afternoon schedule.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, offering them both a wave before disappearing across the huge cafeteria without a backwards glance.
“He’s a little…” Riv paused, trying to come up with some sort of a neutral word.
Overbearing? Pryce grimaced.
“Yeah, that’s a good description. Do you, uh, like him?” Riv asked cautiously.
The wry shrug spoke volumes. He’s okay, I guess. Maybe I was expecting too much out of being here.
Somebody to fix me, make everything all right again. Pryce toyed with his fork and shrugged again. I’m not a fan of psychological mumbo jumbo. Don’t get why I have to answer questions. The doctors are supposed to be doing that FOR me.
“Oh, but good health comes from within,” Riv joked back in a mimic of his mother’s voice. “Ya got to live healthy to be healthy.” His own accent, once as broad and recognizable as hers, had faded over the years. Ship to ship, port to port, he left a little more of it behind with every stop, but he could still call it up if he needed to.
Ducks rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again, and that was good enough.
“When I have to fix something in the engine, I don’t just go wading into the pit and pull parts out until I find what’s broken. I run diagnostics, and look at her performance, and try to get clues from the things she’s telling me. Sometimes I don’t ask the right questions, and I still wind up elbow deep in grease for no 44
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reason, but if I didn’t know anything about the problem to begin with, I wouldn’t know how to start working on it.”
Thanks. Makes me feel so much better being compared to an engine. Maybe you can suggest some diagnostic specs to Terrell. Speed this process up.
Riv snickered. “Yeah, I’ll do that tomorrow, during our personal meeting.” He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “What the hell d’you suppose he wants?”
Shaking his head, Ducks smiled innocently. No idea. Maybe he thinks you’re cute.
Horrified, Riv sat up abruptly. “That’s not funny. You don’t think that’s it, do you? This…this is about you, not me. Besides, I don’t like doctors.” He shuddered. “At all.”
Coming from the person who just saw fit to lecture ME.
“I didn’t lecture you.” He was hurt, at least until he saw the teasing smirk.
No, of course not. You just explained things for a really long time, without letting me interrupt you.
“Ha ha,” Riv said with an overblown sigh. “I see my wisdom is lost on you.”
Wisdom. Right. That’s what you’re calling it.
“Hmmph.” He licked the last of the tart from his spoon, enjoying the fading taste of berries on his tongue with half-lidded delight. When he opened his eyes fully, Ducks was staring at him with a peculiar expression. “What’s the matter?”
Nothing.
“You’re just making fun of me because I’m a pig. You’re not fooling me.” Riv waggled the spoon accusingly, poking the air in front of him to emphasize his point.
I’m pretty sure I want to kiss you. I’m just not sure how it makes me feel. His face matched his words, anticipation and uncertainty in equal parts reflected in his expression.
“Oh,” said Riv. “Well…if you want to find out, I’m willing to be an experiment.” Right, because it certainly wasn’t what he’d been hoping for, not at all. Kissing Ducks had never been high on his list of things to accomplish. Only like number two.
It was probably safe to say that they didn’t exactly run back to Ducks’ room, and although it took a great bit of effort on Riv’s part, he didn’t dance up and down in front of the other man trying to hustle him along, but they were at the door a good deal quicker than he could have ever hoped. Because riding along at the back of his mind was the chilling fear that if given enough time, say more than twenty seconds or so, that someone would change his mind. And it wouldn’t be Riv.
The room seemed much smaller this time, Ducks motioning Riv in first, and then standing hesitantly against the wall, hands at his side, stylus still.
“Are you…? Uh, do you still feel the same way about that, uh, that kiss?” He hated to ask, afraid that the fact that Ducks wasn’t meeting his eyes was a very bad sign. Hated it almost as much as he hated
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feeling like an awkward adolescent about to get his first piece of action. No one should be forced to repeat their teenage years.
Ducks smiled, a shy tentative smile that sent Riv’s heart lurching down to his stomach, again in a manner eerily reminiscent of first love. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do. You still want to be an experiment?
“More than you can imagine.” The words came out a good deal stronger than he’d expected, and Ducks laughed before turning to set the pad on the dresser. When he looked back up, he shrugged ruefully, hands outstretched and empty.
“It’s okay, we can keep the conversation to a minimum.” Riv would never have thought a planned kiss could be so intimidating. He wanted to keep talking, if only to cover the fact that he was nervous as hell. And yet if he kept talking, there wouldn’t be much in the way of kissing going on, and he wanted that.
Badly.
Ducks took the decision out of his pitifully indecisive hands, crossing the few steps between them, stopping only when they were nose to nose. The position necessitated some bending on Ducks’ part, which he managed admirably, followed by the merest brush of lips against Riv’s before he pulled back, a considering expression on his face.
“What?” Feeling slightly panicked, Riv fought to keep his voice level. Was he being rated a failure already? “Is everything okay?”
The grin went a long way towards calming the fears. The second kiss went even farther down that path, and he found himself relaxing enough to drop his hands to Ducks’ hips.
“Mmmph,” Ducks groaned into his mouth, and since Riv wasn’t being pushed away, he took it as encouragement. His hands might have stayed where they were, but only because he was keeping a part of his mind free from instinct, working hard to enjoy the moment for what it was, and not what it might have led to normally. He pulled just far enough away to brush the tip of his tongue over the soft lips resting on his, to drag his teeth over Ducks’ lower lip.
He didn’t care who took control of things. He wasn’t passive in
bed by any means, but it didn’t matter to him if someone else wanted to lead. He let Pryce do that now, and he was damned surprised to find himself being pushed against the wall. His head collided with a soft thunk, and Ducks reached up to rub the back of Riv’s skull, edging back just far enough to give him an apologetic and slightly dazed smile. Then he was back again, and his hand was finding the front of Riv’s shirt while a hip brushed against his cock.
Ducks froze for a second, then backed off, leaving Riv pressed against the tastefully neutral wall wondering what he’d done wrong. He was almost disappointed when Ducks picked up the pad again.
Sorry. Just a reminder that it’s different.
Riv stood up, straightening his shirt with a tug and an apologetic shrug. “Yeah. I understand the breast thing in theory, but I can’t say I’ve ever wanted them myself.” There wasn’t a subtle way to accomplish it, so he turned away for a second to pull at the inseam of his pants.
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Ducks was blushing when Riv turned back around, and for a second he wasn’t sure who he felt sorrier for. The ache in his groin was making him lean towards himself for the moment, but then again, he hated the fact that he’d made Ducks feel bad.
That was stupid, wasn’t it? I’m an idiot. Didn’t mean to react that way.
“You’re not an idiot. You were surprised. There’s a difference. You were expecting breasts and there were no breasts.” Riv felt a small reluctant grin growing. “You weren’t expecting a dick, and yet there was a dick. You know, besides the one standing here.”
The wince that started on Ducks’ face when Riv opened his mouth slowly lightened into a smile.
Nothing wrong with dicks.
“No, I’m pretty fond of mine, actually.”
It wasn’t that funny, but they were both suddenly doubled over with laughter, Ducks clutching the wall to stay upright, Riv wheezing slightly as he struggled to catch his breath. The pad hit the floor with a thump that they both ignored, and this time the kiss was much less staged.
“Oops, careful there, watch the dick.”
Ducks huffed a laugh against Riv’s lips, followed by three or four quick kisses, hands going to Riv’s shoulders, fingers tightening and loosening in time with the kisses. Eventually they moved to the bed, lazily kissing in the warmth of the afternoon sun.
Neither of them was sixteen anymore, despite Riv doing a decent impression of it. An hour or two of tentative making out, kisses ripe with potential that ultimately led nowhere, seemed more than enough for both of them. In any case, it was hard to lie on their backs, side by side and holding hands, without feeling like he was about to fall off the edge. As loath as he was to break the companionable silence, once he’d gotten a handle on his hormones it became pretty obvious that he was hungry.
A brief discussion, Ducks lazily scrawling things across the pad, and they’d agreed that heading out for dinner sounded good. Pryce was the one to suggest that they look outside the hospital, and Riv had come up with a restaurant easily enough, a favorite of his childhood just a few stops away on the public mag-tram.
It was incredible luck, but the tram was mercifully uncrowded on the way to Rico’s, and they were able to sit near the back, no one within five rows of them.
Riv stretched an arm across the back of their seat. “You doing okay?”
Quit fussing, I’m fine. Ducks nudged his shoulder up under the arm and waited for Riv to resettle it.
See, not even screaming yet.
“Should I try to see about fixing that? You laugh pretty well…maybe you’re ticklish?” He tried to keep his look innocent, but he doubted his success when Pryce’s eyebrows shot up and he shook his head emphatically.
NO.
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“Just a joke, I promise,” Riv said hastily.
The scars are really sensitive, Ducks wrote out slowly, hunching his shoulders just a little.
“I’ve got…” Riv trailed off, pulling up the hem of his shirt and pushing the waist of his pants down an inch or so. The puckered scar there twisted a line across the top of his hip, jagged and larger as it curved towards his stomach. “I’ve got this one. Engine I was working on threw a rod right through me.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I charged the guy double after he bitched about it taking an extra week while I was in the hospital.”
The finger tracing along the line of scar tissue was gentle, but Riv still found himself squirming under the touch. But when it disappeared completely under the waist of his pants, he stilled instantly. “That doesn’t exactly tickle,” he said, voice strangled.
Ducks smiled beatifically. And when the fingers found Riv’s ribs, he raised an eyebrow questioningly.
“Okay, yeah, that tickles. But I wasn’t saying that I didn’t like what you were doing before…”
Amazingly enough, he was able to handle the stylus and the pad one-handed, the other hand occupied with stroking the overly sensitive skin of Riv’s stomach. So what are the public decency laws on Karibee?
Or are there any?
Chicken and fries, chicken and fries. Engine inventory. Early epoch planetary rulers. Riv closed his eyes, struggling for distraction. “I, uh, I don’t know. It’s pretty casual here. None?”
That’s good to know. A final pat and Ducks withdrew his hand with a satisfied grin. So how far away is dinner?
“Two stops from here. Not quite long enough for me to be able to walk normally again,” Riv muttered.
Ducks mimed an innocent shrug, not even bothering to look sincere. When Riv looked back out the window for a second, a hand scooted in behind him, resting in the curve of his spine. The other passed over the screen on his lap.
Maybe you should try thinking about sports. It’s what I always did in school when I had to go into the showers.
Riv glanced sideways, raising his eyebrows. “So I’m not really the first guy, eh?”
Was interested offhand, but never enough to make me wonder about trying anything.
The snicker slipped out before he could stop it. “Incidental homosexuality?”
Something like that. But I still really like breasts.
Riv reached around Ducks to pull the tram cord, and shoved his hip against him, moving them both towards the edge of the seat. “Yeah, but like I mentioned before, I’m not getting any of those for you.” He waited until Ducks was standing, and grinned. “I mean, I can see where one might appreciate them in an aesthetic way, but they just seem a little…well, a little much.”
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Idiot. It was amazing how much affection could be crammed into a single written word, but Riv felt it or sensed it or just plain read it. Either way, the huge loopy grin was back on his face. Get off before we miss the stop.
“I thought you were trying to get me off before the stop,” Riv said, half under his breath. The finger poked into his back urged him off the tram car, and he stood on the platform for a second, enjoying the rosy gold light afforded by the first hint of dusk. “Breasts or not, I hope you’re enjoying today as much as I am.”
He didn’t have to turn around to read a reply. The hand that slipped into his and squeezed was more proof than any words could have been.
In the end Ducks staked out a place for them in the park and Riv went to buy the food. The line curving around the inside of the packed café had been deemed a bad idea by them both.
They ate in near silence, greasy fingers and electronics not being a great match, and then walked back to the hospital as the sky darkened, avoiding the evening rush on the trains.
Under the old-fashioned lights designed to look like gas fixtures, the medical center resembled a collegiate campus, the only thing jarring that image the white-coated nurses escorting patients around the lawns.
Riv w
inced, not sure he liked the intrusion of reality into their evening, but Ducks shrugged philosophically. Hey, I’m better off than most of them here. It IS a rehab center.
“Yeah, I know.” It was Riv’s turn to shrug, albeit a bit more uncomfortably. “I just… I don’t know.
You don’t need that…” he jerked his chin towards a patient in a wheelchair, “…so I don’t picture you needing to be here. It’s just weird,” he finished up lamely.
It’s okay, I don’t mind it that much. Other places I’d rather be, but oh well.
Staring off towards the building, Riv weighed his next words. “Do you think it’s helping though?”
The question had come up in a less obvious fashion before, but he had an ulterior motive this time.
Ducks waggled his hand in the universal sign for maybe, but his face held more doubt than the sign expressed.
“I’d like you to meet Del. I know I built her up as kind of intimidating.” Riv snickered. “Which she is, I won’t lie about that. For a tiny woman, I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side. But anyway, I’d like you to meet her. She’s…well, she’s good with people who’ve been hurt.”
Do you think I don’t want to get better? Do you think I’m not trying hard enough? Ducks’ hands shook as he held up the pad, and there was no mistaking the anger that touched his eyes for a second.
“No. That’s not it at all. I can’t explain what she does, because I don’t think I’ve really heard of a lot of people with her particular blend of talents. She’s empathic, I guess, but it’s more than that. She can channel away pain. I’ve seen her help people with psychological trauma. I’m hoping she can do something for you.”
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I’m sorry. I know you don’t mean it that way. It’s just so frustrating to reach for the words and not ever have anything change. If you really think your friend might be able to help, I’d like to meet her.
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