Learning to Walk, a City Hospital Novel

by Zachary, Drew

  “Yeah? What kind of fantasy?”

  Kit shrugged one shoulder and didn’t say anything for a moment. “You know I was on my motorcycle when I got hit, right?”

  “Yeah.” Neil thought motorcycles were a pretty stupid way to travel -- he knew Kit wouldn’t believe it, but the man was one of the lucky ones. He wasn’t dead, and he wasn’t going to be in that wheelchair for life. That put him ahead of a large percentage of motorcycle accident victims.

  “I loved my bike.” Kit sounded almost wistful. “It got completely totaled; my dad had it taken away, and I never saw it after the accident. But before I got hit I was pretty active. Not like a super athlete or anything, but I took care of myself. And now, when I think about what I want to do, what I want my body to do, it’s not running or riding a bike or anything like that. It’s climbing. I want to climb walls and mountains and trees.” Kit looked up from his hands, having run out of things to peel. “Pretty lame, huh? Just climbing trees?”

  “Why would I think that’s lame? I think it’s pretty cool, actually.” Neil grinned and handed over all the vegetables he’d peeled. “I happen to be a climber myself.”

  “What?” Kit’s head jerked back as he lifted his face to look fully at Neil. “You are?”

  “Yeah. I mostly do indoor climbing. There’s a couple of really great places that do it. One of them’s pretty challenging.”

  Kit looked almost upset, his eyes intent and his face serious, his mouth drawn into a thin line. “I. That’s my goal,” he finally blurted out. “Walking, of course, but my idea of total recovery is really being able to climb, to test all my strength. No one knows that.”

  “Hey.” Neil put his hand on Kit’s shoulder and squeezed. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

  Kit nodded sharply, then put his hand over Neil’s and squeezed back. “Don’t tell Dad. He’ll freak out about safety.” Kit smiled a little and let go. “I guess I should tell my therapist, huh?”

  “Yeah, I think you should.” Neil nodded and then gave Kit a wicked grin. “You do realize that you’ve just given me a very effective tool in my arsenal to make you do the work.”

  “Two, if you count the pool idea.” Kit rolled his eyes. “I hope you realize you’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me.”

  “I can think of worse things. Now do you realize that with your upper body strength, there’s a few of the walls that you could probably already start climbing? There’s a facility south of the city that actually has a couple of their walls set up for paraplegics.”

  Kit’s jaw fell open. “Are you serious? I had no idea.” He pointed to the computer in the living room. “Show me.”

  “No. You have to finish getting everything cooking first. Then we go look things up.”

  “Seriously?” Kit narrowed his eyes. “This is my life,” he wheedled. “I’ll get this on the stove, you pull up sites.” He clearly thought that was a brilliant plan.

  “It’ll all still be there when you’re done, but if I get you hooked up now, you’re going to forget all about supper until your stomach starts making creepy-you’re-hungry-enough-to-eat-me noises.”

  Kit scowled for a moment and then looked Neil over once more, all the way down and then back up. “I don’t make a lot of noise, to tell the truth.”

  Neil frowned for a second, and then it clicked and his eyes widened. Hell, he could feel his cheeks start to heat, and he fought the blush, even as the words “I do,” shot, unbidden, out of his mouth.

  “That’s something to keep in mind.” Kit sounded smug as he turned toward the oven to peek at the roast.

  Oh, God. Neil couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud. “I’m, uh.” He cleared his throat. “If you’ll finish everything in here, I’ll go ahead and find that site for you on the computer. It’s in the living room you said?”

  Kit laughed. “Is that your Achilles heel, Neil? Flirting makes you run?”

  “Not exactly.” He flirted with his patients all the time; it was never serious, never leading to anything. It made them feel good and made the work a little easier, that was all. With Kit, though... well, that wasn’t necessarily true. He wanted to mean it with Kit.

  “Okay.” Kit was still grinning at Neil, but he was also getting busy with the food, assembling side dishes with quick movements. “If you say so.”

  Neil shook himself and went into the other room, looking for the computer as he lectured himself over the evils of lusting after patients. It wasn’t something he did. At least, not usually. Kit had somehow gotten under his defenses, though under his skin. He had to forget that he was attracted to Kit. The man was a patient, and either of them could so easily get hurt.

  The computer was already running, so all he had to do was open a new tab in the browser and go to Google.

  In the kitchen, Kit had started to hum, the clatter of pots punctuating his musical phrases. Who knew what was going to make Kit suddenly cheerful? His moods were in flux, which probably was part and parcel with his recovery from trauma, but maybe he was always unpredictable.

  Neil was going to have to get this attraction he was feeling under control if he was going to continue to be Kit’s physiotherapist. He’d thought he did in fact have it under control, but it seemed he liked the man a little more than he’d realized. They were just really getting into a groove, though, with Kit trusting him and opening up about the kinds of therapies he was interested in and what his goals were.

  It wouldn’t be fair to Kit if Neil had to recuse himself because of this; it certainly wasn’t Kit’s fault Neil was suddenly having trouble keeping it a hundred-percent professional.

  Clicking on the link to Indoor Mountain Adventures, Neil pushed everything else to the back of his head, behind a door that he then put a lock on.

  He was good to go.

  ***

  Kit got everything cooking, setting two timers so he’d be on top of what was finishing when, and took advantage of the few moments while Neil was busy to take quick stock of himself.

  Amused, yes. Confused, for sure. A little aghast at the way he was suddenly being... well, not aggressive. Not by a long shot. But considering the last few months of not even flirting, this was aggression.

  He stirred the vegetables and added a tiny bit of pepper. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly flirting, aside from the obvious -- Neil was gay, attractive, reliable, and there. He was a nice guy who, yes, Kit occasionally had impulses to loathe, but that feeling always went away the instant Neil said, “Okay, that’s it for now.”

  Neil also saw Kit at his very worst -- his moods, his abilities, and his appearance. No one looked good in a ratty T-shirt and an hour’s worth of sweat from trying to force limbs to move and failing, more often than not. But Neil never seemed to care about that stuff, and until a day or so ago Kit would have sworn Neil didn’t care at all how Kit looked. But then there was helping him last night, and in the shower, and a bit of flirting made Neil blush. Kit sensed a challenge, but one he shouldn’t push too hard too fast.

  Thinking about that -- the parts of him that weren’t thinking about pools and climbing walls -- Kit checked all his pots and timers and wheeled over to the computer, his chair almost silent. “Got something to show me?” he asked, not meaning the entendre until it was out, then totally meaning it.

  Neil jumped, began to blush, and then cleared his throat. “Here’s the site for the place I was telling you about.”

  Kit got his chair in real close and leaned to see the monitor better. “Does insurance cover this as therapy?”

  “I’m afraid not. It’s not working the right muscles, you know? Your upper body is already doing great, and this doesn’t do anything to improve your leg muscles.”

  “Boo. Still. An hour or three can’t cost too much, right?”

  “Well, it’s not cheap, but it isn’t outrageously expensive, either.” Neil clicked on a link and showed him the page for the gimps. There were a couple of pictures of guys with their legs wrapped in bla
ck... bags? “See, they’ve got the equipment so your legs don’t get banged around as you climb.”

  Kit made a face, but studied the wall intently. “There’ll be bruises, but that’s nothing new. I assume you have to partner with someone, either another paraplegic or an able-bodied person?”

  “Yeah. I think these guys want you to bring your own able-bodied with you. At least that’s always how I’ve seen it done. We can call and find out.” Neil shrugged. “Well, I’ll be volunteering to be your partner anyway, so I suppose it’s a moot point.”

  “You don’t have to,” Kit said, trying his best to be polite. “But I’d appreciate it. Since you climb already and all.” His gaze went right back to the images, and his fingers itched to curl around an edge and hold on.

  “No, I love climbing, and I don’t know if I’d feel right sending you to do it on your own, seeing as I’m the one who suggested it.”

  “Uh-huh.” Kit nodded, barely paying attention. He leaned more, reaching for the mouse so he could scroll through the site. “Have you been there before? To this facility?” Kit’s arm pressed against Neil’s, practically sharing the chair’s armrest.

  Neil shifted, letting him take over the armrest. “Yeah. It’s one of the better ones in town. I’ve seen them doing the climb on these two particular walls. They’re safe, good. And lots of fun.”

  Kit noticed when Neil moved, grinned to himself and wiggled his chair a fraction closer with a fast back and forth motion. “All right, then. I’ll take a look at my calendar and let you know what dates and times work best around my other appointments and see what matches your schedule. Although, honestly, weekends are best.”

  “That would work best for me. I can’t always get away during the week.”

  Kit nodded. Even with his days filled up with various doctors and therapies, he had a lot more room to maneuver than Neil did, with his full-time job. At least Neil’s hours were regular. “Maybe this weekend or next. I want to see how long I’m stiff from falling yesterday before I do more damage.”

  “Yeah, I think we should look at next weekend. Give you all the time you need to get back to where you were BTF.”

  “BTF.” Kit laughed. “I like it. Do you think you can get me into the pool before then, though?” That would be awesome.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Neil’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Speaking of being stiff, do you need a massage?”

  Kit was going to say no, that the shower had helped a lot after all the stretching, but his brain yelled at him almost immediately. Hand on his skin. Neil hands. Oh, yes. How long had it been? Which, yeah, partly his fault because he didn’t like people touching him, but this was different. “That would be great. We have about twenty minutes before I have to do anything at the stove.”

  “Cool. Are you comfortable there? Did you want to move into the middle of the room? And did you want some music? A lot of people like something gentle playing. Helps them relax.”

  “Whatever’s best for you.” Kit moved out from the computer a little, assuming Neil would need room to work. “I don’t have any of that weird nature music or anything.”

  Neil laughed, the sound almost surprised. “It doesn’t have to be new-agey to relax you.”

  “I don’t really use music to relax.” That’s what TV was for. “But you can poke around and see what’s on the computer or on the shelf.” He pointed to the CDs by his father’s stereo.

  “No, this is for you, and if music isn’t going to be relaxing, there’s no point. What do you use music for?” Neil’s hands landed on his shoulders, then slid away again. “Let’s get the T-shirt off first.”

  “Dancing.” Kit peeled his T-shirt off and tossed it on the couch. “Cleaning the house. That’s about it, really.”

  “Huh.” Neil’s hands landed on his shoulders again. They were still for a moment, warm and nice. Then the massage started, and nice didn’t even begin to cover it.

  “Oh...” Kit didn’t try to keep the sound inside. His head fell forward and he closed his eyes. “What do you use music for?”

  “Relaxing, something to listen to when it’s otherwise quiet. Company, I guess, in a lot of ways.”

  Kit thought about that. “I like quiet, mostly. Sometimes it gets heavy, though, and starts to drive me crazy. I suppose when I lived on my own I had the TV on a lot for company, maybe.”

  “I’m not a huge fan of TV. I find I get to watching, and before I know it, I’ve wasted a whole bunch of time.” Neil’s fingers worked on a particularly tender bit of muscle.

  “I have more time now than I did.” Kit angled his head to give Neil room, another sound escaping. “When I was... before the accident, I didn’t watch a lot. Now I have actual shows I follow.” Some were better than others, Kit knew, but he did have his favorites.

  “Yeah?” Neil chuckled and then made a soothing noise as the muscle popped audibly, the pain intense for a second before fading away to nothing.

  “Oh God.” Kit’s eyes flew open. “Nice.” He settled again and nodded. “I like all those cop shows. I might be missing one or two -- and I’m a decade behind on a couple -- but I like them.”

  “I like mystery novels.” Neil moved on to another trouble spot, this one lower down.

  Kit leaned forward, draping himself over his legs. “Old ones or new ones? Like, Agatha Christie stuff or James Patterson?”

  “Yes. Seriously, I love them all. I love the grittiness of the modern stuff and the order of the old stuff. I enjoy the new characters and love revisiting favorite detectives like Holmes or Marple.”

  “Holmes is good. I’ve read all of those.” Kit had a sudden image of Neil curled up under a blanket on a couch somewhere, lost in a book. He liked it. “Little lower, please.”

  Neil’s hands moved down obligingly, finding a new knot of muscles. God, the guy’s hands were like magic.

  “Oh, yes. There.” Kit nodded and gave up a little moan. “Harder.”

  “Like this?” Neil’s voice had gone a little husky, but those fingers didn’t give up the job.

  “Uh-huh.” Kit smiled to himself. That was more like it. He even had plausible deniability if he needed it. It was just a massage. “Just like that. So good.” He also had the start of a hard on, but that was okay by him.

  He could hear Neil’s breathing get heavier as the man worked along his spine.

  “Oh yes,” Kit whispered. “Deeper.” His imagination started to take off against his actual intent. Neil had amazing hands and knew what to do with them.

  Neil didn’t say anything, but the massage went deeper, demanding that his muscles relax, give way. Kit groaned and sank all the way onto his legs. He wished he was lying down, that there was a bed under them. He tried to gather his thoughts so Neil wouldn’t know how far gone he really was, but Neil’s hands kept sweeping good intentions away. “You’re really good at this,” he managed to say, his voice a little croaky.

  Neil’s hands stilled for a moment. “Yeah? You sure you’re okay?”

  “Oh, yes. Very okay. Don’t stop.”

  Neil’s chuckle was as husky as his voice had grown. “Okay.”

  Kit took a chance. “I’m kind of regretting that supper’s cooking, honestly. One of these days, though, I’m going to ask for a really long massage, out of the chair.”

  “Sure, I can do that. Or I can give you the number of someone I work with. She’s amazing -- puts my skills to shame.”

  Kit rolled his eyes behind his closed lids. “No, goof. You.”

  “Oh. Okay. Yeah, I can do that. A massage.” Neil paused and started talking, words beginning to run into each other. “There’s some tables in the therapy room. Make sure you remind me to book you an extra-long appointment. That way the time is already built in and we won’t run into someone else’s appointment, and you won’t feel hurried. Nothing makes a massage more of a waste of time than feeling like the massage therapist can’t wait to be done with you.”

  “Or, you know. We can go for reall
y private with no chance of interruption and not be at the hospital.”

  Neil’s hands stilled, then stopped massaging and just gently rubbed his skin. “I can’t do that, Kit.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re my patient.”

  Kit frowned. “So? You’re not a doctor, you’re a physiotherapist.” He wasn’t sure at all that it mattered.

  Neil sighed. “It wouldn’t be professional, Kit. I’m sorry.”

  Kit lifted his head and just barely stopped himself from pointing out the lack of professionalism in their meal about to be shared and weekend day trips to rock walls. He could use those things to his advantage, if he was smart.

  “Okay,” he said, slowly. “I understand. But it’s too bad -- you’re awesome with your hands.”

  “I can give you massages -- it’s part of the therapy. I just... in your bedroom is going to lead to more, Kit. And I can’t cross that line, not with a patient.”

  And right there was the information Kit was digging for, even if he hadn’t been totally sure of it himself. “I see. Well, then.” He sat up and stretched his arms, not bothering to even attempt discretion. “We better get me better then, so I don’t need your professional services, huh?”

  Neil took a deep breath and then met his eyes. “I think I’d like that, Kit.”

  “Great.” Kit beamed at him and firmly set aside the matter to ponder later, when he was alone in bed. “Let’s check on supper then, shall we?”

  Neil looked a little lost at the sudden switch of subjects, but he nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  Kit took pity. “If we discuss the matter, I’m probably going to be both relentless and duplicitous. I’m not above whining, teasing, arguments that don’t hold up under close inspection, and flat out bribery. No one has touched me in months and months for any reason other than helping my body move. You’d have to leave to be safe, and I want you to eat roast beef. See?”

  Neil snorted and nodded. “Okay, I get it.”