Smoke and Mirrors

by Lillian T. MacGowan

  “You’ll have to get past me first.” Deck grinned and bolted to stand at the top of the hallway leading to the bedroom.

  “Deck.” Naim glared harder. “I’m. Fucking. Cold.” At least he let him have his goddamn jeans, and of course his phone was going off now. Deck leered, and Naim ignored him to read the text. “Oh, fuck’s sake, Deck. They’re here. Can I have my bloody shirt please?”

  “Nope,” Deck said, way too pleased with himself.

  “Asshole.”

  Deck grinned.

  “Okay. Okay, smart-ass. But remember what happened the last time you thought you were this cute with me.”

  Deck thought for a half a second then shrugged. He balled up Naim’s shirt, took a step back to the bathroom, and threw it in the tub.

  Naim scowled and mumbled to himself, heading to the kitchen for more coffee just as there was a knock on the door.

  Deck greeted Jen with a kiss and Keller with a curse. Naim was embarrassed to have to greet them topless, knowing that he had…marks everywhere.

  “Where’s Naim?” He heard Jen rustling their coats and Deck’s phone, which she had kindly offered to pick up from Peyton’s.

  “He’s sulking in the kitchen.”

  “Naim? Why are you sulking?” she called out. Naim sighed and took his coffee into the living room, where Deck had just flipped on the TV, turning to the Rose Bowl.

  “Because Deck doesn’t understand the concept of company,” he snipped, glaring at the back of Deck’s comfortable, couch-slouched head. Naturally, the bastard chuckled. Fully goddamn clothed.

  “Naim!” Jen looked a little shocked at Naim’s half-dressed, somewhat abused state.

  Keller turned from his spot on the couch, took one look at Naim, didn’t care, and turned back to the game.

  “Naim. Where’s your…why…did you get run over or something?” Jen asked. “I mean it’s not like I’ve never seen a topless man before, but you’re not usually…that is you don’t often… Naim. I’ve seen you disheveled exactly three times in five years. What the hell happened to you?”

  “I got run over by him.” Naim curled his lip in Deck’s direction and hoped she didn’t notice the teeth marks. “And he stole my clothes. Would you like some coffee?”

  “No. Thanks.” She looked to Deck, frowning. “Deck?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do you know that you can’t fit in Naim’s clothes?”

  Deck nodded as he and Keller began shouting profanities at the TV.

  Jen turned to Naim. “Is this something I want to know about?”

  Naim made a face. “Pretty simple actually. He won’t let me have my shirt.” He looked toward Deck and Keller as they settled down. “He just finds me so magnificent that I’m not even to be fully clothed around him.” He raised his voice. “Right, cupcake?”

  Naim grinned a well-satisfied grin as Jen gasped and Keller’s head snapped around, but before Keller could even blink, she was leaning over him, sticking her finger in his face. “Don’t you dare.”

  “But—”

  “No.”

  Keller turned around completely, kneeling on the couch, begging his wife. “But he called him—”

  “Frank.” She glared, and her nostrils flared as she pulled out the most dangerous weapon she had—his first name.

  Keller’s face collapsed, and he resembled a depressed puppy, glancing at Deck, who was grinning at the TV. “But…” If there were ever a time anyone thought Keller might cry, it was this moment.

  Jen poked him in the head. “No.”

  Naim’s grin turned into a scowl over the exchange as he realized Jen was totally revenge-blocking him. What the hell? She was supposed to be on his side.

  “And you.” She turned her head and her finger of motherly death to Deck. “Other Frank. Give him his clothing, please. This is undignified, adolescent, and he looks cold.”

  Naim grinned again as Deck and Keller cringed over their shared first name, each one hating it more than the other.

  “But—”

  “Give him his clothing, you brain-dead pervert.”

  Deck looked up at her as pitifully as Keller had. “But—”

  “OTHER FRANK.” She poked him in the head.

  “Ow! The hell? How come I get poked harder than him?” Deck whined, rubbing his forehead.

  Naim was laughing now and had no fewer than three inappropriate thoughts about that remark. He was already spending too much time with Deck.

  “You heard what she said,” Keller grumbled. “Go get the man his clothes…cupcake. Ow!” He rubbed his mouth. “Damn, baby, you hit hard.”

  She stood up, crossed her arms, and paused, staring at the two idiots on the couch rubbing their heads. “Frank Dekker…”

  “Okay. God.” He stood, bodychecking Keller, who tripped him. He stumbled, clipped Keller in the knee, and the tussling began.

  Naim sipped coffee, Jen sighed, and Deck and Keller tried to wrestle each other to the floor, Deck cursing creatively while Keller just wheezed out the occasional, chortled “cupcake.”

  After a minute of no one winning, Sue wandered out of somewhere, jumped up on the back of the granddad chair, lifted his leg, and proceeded to wash his bits. Jen sighed again, came around the couch, and grabbed both grown, adult men by the ears.

  “Knock it. The fuck. Off.”

  The both groaned and swore.

  “You sit down and shut up,” she told Keller, yanking him by the ear toward the couch. “And you go get something for Naim to put on. And shut up.” She yanked Deck toward the hall.

  “Fucking…” Deck rubbed his ear, a dangerously pouty expression on his face. He couldn’t think of anything angry but respectful enough for Jen. “Fucking… Booo!” he yelled at her.

  Jen ignored him, and he stomped off down the hall.

  Keller looked up at her, his face pitiful again. “I’m sorry, baby.”

  “Shut it.” She glowered and turned to Naim. Keller looked back at her desperately and tried to right the coffee table.

  “Do you see what you started? He booed me.” She tried not to grin.

  “Me?” Naim blinked, all wide-eyed innocence. “I’m just cold.” He sipped his coffee.

  Jen tsk-tsked at him. “His wit astonishes. I put your coats over there.” She indicated the granddad chair. “And I gave him his phone.” She looked back to the mess they’d made of the coffee table and couch and scowled. “I hope he broke it. And lost it.”

  Keller chuckled to himself. “Cupcake…” he muttered. Jen opened her mouth, then shut it, shaking her head and laughing silently.

  Deck stomped back into the living room, one of his own white thermals in hand. Naim raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s wet.” Deck shrugged.

  “My shirt?”

  “Yeah. I threw it in the tub.”

  Jen gave him a look. “Was the tub full?”

  “Nah, but we just showered a few…”

  Keller slapped his hands over his ears, Jen snorted, and Naim looked at his feet while Deck looked confused.

  “What?”

  Jen held her forehead, and Naim studied his coffee for the secrets of the universe. “Just give him the damn shirt, Deck.”

  Deck turned to Naim. “What?” he asked again. Naim snatched the thermal out of his hand and started bunching it up to put on.

  “This is eighteen sizes too big,” he muttered.

  Deck reached over and pulled the shirt down over Naim’s chest and back, sliding his hands across his skin along the way. Naim shifted uncomfortably, and Deck grinned.

  “Deck.” Jen tutted.

  He kissed Naim gently and, with a smile, ignored Jen and went to flop back down on the couch, immediately shouting profanities again. Keller uncovered his ears, eyeing Deck suspiciously.

  Naim smiled. “Come on.” He indicated the kitchen with a nod, grateful for the door so that he and Jen could have a little peace.

  “Coffee?”

  “Yeah, why not.”

&nb
sp; Naim fixed Jen’s coffee as she spoke. “So what happened to you two last night?” She asked, already knowing the answer. She settled into a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Eh…yeah. You probably already know the answer.” Naim sat across from her, looking awkward and embarrassed but happy.

  “I guess that honeymoon phase still has a hold of you two?” Her eyes twinkled as she sipped coffee.

  Naim ducked his head and blushed. “Well, kind of yeah…but um…” He looked back at Jen. She was his friend, right? Weren’t friends supposed to talk about these things? Laura and Freya had tried harassing him last night, but he was closer to Jen, so why not? He pursed his lips and frowned, frustrated. He had no idea how to do this. What were the rules with friends and dating and relationships and dishing? Naim frowned harder as he realized just how far behind he was, and how much he didn’t know about some of the most fundamental human interactions.

  Thoughts like that were never good for him, only serving to underscore his feelings of inadequacy and ostracization.

  “Naim.” Jen interrupted his morose thoughts. He looked back up at her. “Spill.” She grinned and leaned in.

  He smiled, relieved. “You sure?”

  “Naim. Oh my God. Gimme.”

  He laughed. “Okay, well…we um…” He wasn’t about to get into the whole miscommunication business. “We were sort of taking it slow. But that didn’t make it past last night.” He realized he was still blushing.

  “Wait. Hold on.” Jen squinted at him. “You mean, you mean you guys just had sex last night?” she stage-whispered, her eyes huge.

  Naim sighed again, and Jen flailed and squealed.

  “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN THERE?” Deck shouted from the living room

  “WE’RE TALKING SHIT ABOUT YOU,” Naim shouted back.

  There was no response for a few seconds, and he could picture Deck considering that.

  “OKAY.”

  Naim laughed and face-palmed at how helplessly charmed he was by the gigantic goon.

  Jen giggled. “I just can’t believe it. We were all certain… Well, we weren’t certain there wasn’t all sorts of hanky-panky going on at the hospital.”

  “Jen!”

  “Well, I was certain. I knew you wouldn’t do something so…”

  “Unprofessional?”

  “Well, yes. And I don’t think that’s your style anyway. But I never thought you’d make it twelve hours after he was released, let alone almost two weeks.” She blinked, then stopped, thoughtful. “Well, I hoped anyway.” She smiled, meeting his eyes.

  Naim frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I…” She started, carefully. “Well, I know some things are difficult for you.” She took his hand. “Intimacy and…things like that.”

  Naim fidgeted, staring at the table.

  “Naim.” She lowered her gaze to catch his eye. “Naim…” He glanced up at her. “I get it. You know I get it.”

  Naim thought for a minute, studying her face. It was something they’d never actually spoken of, the thing that they had in common, and they both knew it but never said it. For now, he was fine with keeping it that way. Jen understood that they shared an experience, but she didn’t know half of it.

  “Yeah.” His smile was melancholy as he looked at her. “It’s okay, though. It’s good.”

  Jen grinned. “Good. I want you to be happy.” He squeezed her hand. “And while you do look like you got hit by a truck, you also look happy.” She giggled again. “Look at you. All…glowy. You’re glowy.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Jen.”

  “Well, you are,” she insisted and scooted her chair in conspiratorially. “It was good, wasn’t it?” she whispered. “He was good?”

  “Jen!”

  “What?” She shrugged and grinned.

  Naim blinked at her, embarrassed, scandalized and glowy. “Oh my fuck, yes.”

  Jen squealed and flapped her hands.

  “ARE YOU STILL TALKING ABOUT ME?”

  “NO.” Naim didn’t miss a beat.

  Neither did Deck. “WHY NOT?” he complained.

  “THERE WASN’T THAT MUCH TO SAY, CUPCAKE.” Naim was still pretty annoyed about his shirt.

  But Deck was Deck, and he was nothing if not deranged. “I LOVE YOU,” he shouted, entirely nonplussed by Naim’s response.

  Naim face-palmed and shook his head, laughing.

  “Wait, whoa.” Jen stopped flailing. “You guys are there?”

  Naim sat back, chuckling and frowning at the same time. “Hold on,” he said. “Have we really become so hedonistic that it’s shocking to hear we held off on sex for all of ten days.” He made a dramatic gesture. “But it’s just as, if not more shocking to hear that there may be…” Shit. It was hard to make his point if he was feeling awkward about saying it. “Deeper…feelings involved?”

  “Are you in love with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “I swear, I honestly never saw that coming.”

  Naim started to nod but then frowned again. On the surface he and Deck were an odd match, but Jen knew them both well; she of all people should have seen it coming. “Why not?”

  Jen thought about it. “I guess maybe because Deck is so…Deck.”

  Naim grinned. “You mean big?”

  “Shut up.” She glared, and he laughed. “But yes. Can you blame me? I’ve known you for a while now, and you’re…well…Deck’s just so…” She sighed, and Naim didn’t help her. She took a minute to collect her thoughts, giving Naim a scowl and sipping her coffee. “Naim. I’ve never known you to go on one single date, let alone get involved with someone. I know where you are most of the time, and you don’t even go out. So, well, I can only imagine how long it’s been since you got laid.”

  Naim started, and she gave him a self-satisfied look.

  “Deck is a force of nature. He’s nuts and a little annoying sometimes. He’s kind of like a tornado. A sexy, charming, sweet, aggravating tornado.” She nodded to herself. “I suppose I thought that, well, there is certainly chemistry between you. But I thought you would have been too overwhelmed by him. A while ago, as a matter of fact.”

  Naim smiled. That did make sense. “Yeah. I’m not sure how I haven’t been either. He could overwhelm a cracked-out hyena.”

  Jen laughed loudly. “Oh God, he so could.”

  “But”—she settled down and looked at Naim—“I also know that sometimes I don’t give you enough credit for being your own kind of force of nature. So really, maybe I shouldn’t be all that surprised.” She had love in her eyes, and Naim frowned and threw her a suspicious look.

  “What? On earth…?”

  “Oh Naim. I know you don’t see it, but—” She thought for a minute. “Do you know that my husband thinks you’re one of the best men he knows?”

  “Whose husband?”

  “Mine.”

  “Which…what?”

  Jen laughed again and kissed his hand. “And you are. People look at you, and they see a quiet, pretty man. Soft-spoken and dignified and a little uptight, British influenced.”

  Naim blinked and made a face, insulted. He wasn’t uptight…

  “But I’ve learned—Keller too—that if you’re crossed enough or pushed enough or your morals are challenged…” She tried to find the right phrasing. “You will fuck a motherfucker the fuck up.”

  “Jennifer.”

  “It’s true. And it’s really the only way of wording it. Because you don’t just fight, you win. Naim. You backhanded a banger. “

  Naim studied the counter, uncomfortable with feeling so transparent. “Anyway.” He got up for more coffee and turned to her, leaning on the counter. He smiled. “It’s working,” he told his coffee. “I think this is…good.” He glanced at her, happy and shy.

  Jen broke into a huge smile, got up, and grabbed him in a tight, loving hug. “And I’m really glad for you, Naim,” she murmured into his neck.

  Deck strolled in just then, breaking the moment.
“Hey. HEY,” he complained and shoved between them, pushing Jen away and giving her a filthy look. “Mine.” He mock pouted and pulled Naim to his chest, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling his head. Naim peeked out at Jen rolling his eyes.

  Jen took it in. “And you love it.”

  “Yes, he does.” Deck squeezed him hard, and he oomphed. “Actually.” Deck’s eyes started to glow. “You guys can go if you want.”

  Naim shoved away from him. “Deck.” He gave him the eyebrow.

  Deck heaved a sigh. “Fine. Okay. They can stay a little longer.” He reached into the fridge, grabbed a beer and some gummy bears off the counter, then Naim’s chin with his other hand, kissed him thoroughly, and wandered off.

  Naim looked at the floor, grinning shyly and thumbing his chin.

  “Definitely. Chemistry.” Jen nodded and grinned lecherously.

  Naim snorted and sat back down.

  “Okay, so just one more thing I have to nag you about.” She took his hand again.

  “You’re not nagging me, Jen. We’re just talking.”

  “Well then I’m going to nag now.”

  Naim sighed.

  She leaned in, her face taking on that maternal seriousness, and whispered, “You were careful, right? I mean, you know.”

  Naim’s eyes went huge, as he gasped and put his hand to his mouth. “Oh God,” he groaned. “Jen. What if I get pregnant?”

  She pulled back and glared at him. “Nai-im. This is not a joking matter. You are a physician, Naim Moreau. You know better than to kid about things like keeping safe.”

  “Yes, Mother, I know. I know.” He shifted in his seat.

  “I know you know.” She pulled back. “And I know you know better. I only ask because I know it’s been a while, and sometimes in the heat of the moment…”

  “Well.” Naim squirmed and cringed. He was still very new to having this type of conversation with anyone other than clinically with patients. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

  “Naim. NAIM. Tell me you didn’t—” The mom finger came out again.

  “Yeeesss…but—”

  “No buts. No buts, Naim, that’s just plain irresponsible, and you know it. Believe me, I know what it is to get caught up in the moment but—”