by Smith,T. M.
David chuckled, the sound easing some of the tension in Dusty’s shoulders. “Yeah, I can’t remember what happened, why I’m in here. I mean, I know it was something bad like a car wreck or a gay bashing even.” His eyes widened again and he blushed, his body visibly trembling.
Dusty tightened his grip on David’s hand, ready to reassure him when Tristan spoke up. “It’s okay David, anything you say to me won’t go beyond this room. And, if it makes you feel any better, Dusty and I are both gay as well.” He said the last part with a wink, making David chuckle again.
“Wait, is that a smile I see?” Tristan joked, pointing at the chair that Dusty had begun to think of as his. “May I sit?” Dusty and David both nodded, so he and Tristan switched places. Tristan dragged the chair a little closer to the bed while Dusty moved to sit at the foot of the bed, placing a hand on David’s leg, just to reassure him he was close, that he was there.
“Before we go any further David, I have to make sure you understand that you are in no way obligated to talk to me. I’m here in good faith and I’d welcome getting to know you, helping you to recover your memories and deal with any fallout from that. Ultimately, it is your choice whether I stay or go, though.” Tristan gave David a moment to let his words sink in, stifling the urge to groan when he saw Dusty giving him a What the fuck, man? look out of the corner of his eye.
David nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, I’ll agree to that. If Dusty trusts you, then I trust you.”
Tristan chuckled. “Good. Now I’m going to be perfectly honest with you at all times David, that’s the way I work and I think it’s the best approach. Dusty and I both know the circumstances that put you in that bed…” David sat up straight, mouth agape. Tristan leaned over and laid a hand on his shoulder before he could speak. “…in due time David, in due time.” He waited for David to acknowledge that statement and lean back before he spoke again.
“As I was saying, while I realize you need to know what happened, at this point I think it is better for us to give your brain and body a little more time to heal and see if you remember on your own.” David’s brow furrowed, but Tristan drove on. It was almost like he could read David’s mind; every expression that played out on David’s face was soon answered by Tristan without the actual question being asked.
“I know it’s frustrating for you, waking up in the hospital not knowing why or how you were hurt and for the people that do know, not to tell you. I promise you I’ll try to help you remember David, if you’ll let me. I’m confident that with time you will be able to regain your memories on your own.” Dusty responded to David’s confused expression with a warm smile and a small nod.
David’s eyes darted from Tristan to Dusty, back to Tristan before he answered him. “Okay. But only if Dusty can be here, too.”
Tristan agreed. “That is perfectly fine with me. Now, let’s get started.”
Chapter 4 | Clouds of Confusion
The following weekend was entirely too chaotic for Dusty’s liking. On Friday morning, he had to spend several hours at the All Cocks studios to go over all the details for a shoot he was doing out at the house on Sunday. It was the first time since David woke from the coma that Dusty had left him alone for several hours. Thankfully, David was fine when he finally made it back to the hospital that afternoon. But Dusty was still wary of leaving him alone for an entire day while he was stuck out at the house in Mamaroneck working.
Thankfully, Tristan offered to spend a few hours with David to work with him in an effort to unlock his memories of the beating that put him in the hospital. So far Tristan had gotten David to open up about his childhood, the shitstorm that was his coming out and the things he could remember from the days leading up to the accident. The problem was, there was no one to say whether or not what he was remembering was accurate.
“It’s a shot in the dark at best Dusty, not knowing if what he is telling us is what actually happened. All I can do is assume it is and move on from there,” Tristan told him after his first meeting with David.
“I’m not sure why that matters,” Dusty stated, confused.
“It matters because he may be merging memories due to the trauma to his brain. The best route of therapy for him would be to have a friend or family member here to verify what he tells us. I do have an idea though—since he signed the paperwork for me to be his therapist, I can now approach the detective in charge of his case and see what information they can share. It won’t be a complete assessment, but it will give me a working theory,” Tristan explained. It still made Dusty uneasy, especially since he’d promised David he’d be there with him when he talked to Tristan.
He had to work, though. He’d already bowed out of two shoots he was scheduled for, citing an unavoidable emergency. Also, the shoot he was heading out to the big house to do was a longer scene that would be more detailed. Which meant his paycheck would be higher as well. Without any other alternative, Dusty explained the situation to David, apologizing for not being able to be with him while Tristan was there.
“No worries D, I’ll be okay.” David flashed a winning smile, setting Dusty’s mind at ease.
It would do me a world of good to get fucking laid, so there’s that as well. Dusty kept that thought to himself.
Walking into Vic’s house for the first time in a few weeks felt like coming home for the holidays. When you hadn’t seen your family in ages and the sounds and smells of home invaded your senses and made you think of birthdays, holidays, parties and fun times. It also made Dusty think about David and how the only real memories he’d shared with him and Tristan had been mediocre at best, sometimes downright hateful. He wanted so badly to give David new memories—happy ones, surrounded by someone that truly cared for him. And that, in and of itself, was a conundrum.
His feelings for the blond haired, blue eyed, battered and bruised young man had gone from uncertain to protective, and that morphed into a friendship once David finally woke up and they actually started getting to know each other. And now, he’d be lying to himself if he tried to deny his growing attraction to David. He mentally kicked himself in the ass; the last thing David needed was anything more than a friend, especially right now.
“Dusty, hey!” Mattie called out, getting up from where he was sitting on the couch in the den and walking over to meet Dusty in the kitchen for a hug. “Where have you been hiding? And is everything okay? Vic told us you backed out of your last two shoots, what’s up with that?” Dusty laughed and shook his head, waiting to see if Mattie was going to continue rattling off rapid-fire questions.
“Nowhere–yes–nothing, just had some personal shit to deal with,” Dusty responded, returning Mattie’s exuberant hug.
“Is that Dusty I am hearing?” Victor called out, appearing at the top of the stairs.
“Yes, Boss,” Dusty shouted.
Victor descended the stairs into the den with Andrew right behind him. “I was being worried about you. And I am happy you have come today.” Dusty was pulled into a hug that knocked the wind out of him. The big, brooding Romanian considered all his models part of his family and treated them as such. Dusty felt oddly like he was being berated by his own father when Victor turned paternal on him.
“Mom!” Dusty shouted, holding his arms up and wrapping them around Andrew’s neck, squeezing tight. He yelped and jumped back when Andrew swatted him on the ass, hard.
“I’ll show you Mom, you little shit. Now get your ass upstairs and help me get everything set up for the shoot. Chris and Linc will be here in about an hour and they want to get done as quickly as possible today.” Andrew called out over his shoulder, already halfway back up the stairs.
“Which one am I shooting with today?” Dusty asked.
“Both, actually. We haven’t done a three-way in ages, so I thought, what the hell? You okay with that?” Andrew stopped suddenly, Dusty almost walking over him, he stopped so fast.
He pondered that for a minute. “Well, as long as it’s not a d
ouble penetration scene, then yes, I’m okay with that. I do not welcome two cocks in my ass at the same time, especially not those two monsters.” Dusty chuckled, following Andrew down the hall to the bedroom with the four-poster bed and bay doors they always used when shooting scenes at the house.
***
Six hours later, Dusty lay on his back, breathless and sore, but sated. Kris Alen and Linc Larsen had spent the last several hours fucking Ashton Fox ten ways from Sunday. He’d been bent over the bed, the chair and the balcony. Spread out on his stomach on the bed while they took turns trying to fuck him through the mattress. The encore of their erotic tryst was Linc pinning him to the wall and fucking him stupid while Kris sucked his brains out through his dick. The way the two of them worked together was a thing of beauty.
He flinched when Chris’s large hand landed on his ass. “Up and at ’em; let’s hit the shower, dude.”
“Can’t I just lay here and enjoy the last few tingling sensations of that fantastic fucking orgasm before I have to wash it off?” Dusty pouted.
Chris and Linc both laughed at him. “Whatever man, but I should warn you, your ass is coated in a thick layer of drying come. You should shower before you have to scrape that shit off with a putty knife,” Chris called out as he left the room.
He was busy ignoring Chris when Mattie came into the room and tossed something onto the bed. “Dusty, here’s your phone, fucking thing has been dancing a jig for the past hour.”
He sat up and grabbed the offered phone, pulling up the main screen to see he had several missed calls. “Fuck!” He climbed off the bed and sprinted out of the room, clicking on the first message.
“Dusty, hey, it’s Tris. I just wanted to let you know that David had an episode earlier and the nurse had to sedate him. We can talk more about it when you get here later. I won’t leave until you’re here and I’m certain he’ll be okay once he sleeps it off. See you in a while.” The call disconnected. He tossed his phone onto the papasan chair in Mattie’s office, reaching for his jeans that were neatly folded over the back of the desk chair.
It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before he was dressed, down the stairs and jogging toward his truck in the driveway. As soon as he turned the key in the ignition, he listened to the next message. “Wanted to let you know that David is awake and he is much calmer now. I think he’s still feeling the aftereffects of the shot Megan gave him, and he’s asking for you so, I hope you’re almost done. See you soon.”
The next message was from his dad, asking Dusty to call him when he had time, stating it wasn’t important, if he could just call back as soon as he had the chance. He was about to listen to the last message when his phone beeped. He pressed the Bluetooth button on his dashboard that connected the phone to his stereo. “Hello.”
“Dusty, you on your way back?” Tristan’s voice echoed through the cab of his truck.
“Yeah, what’s up? What’s wrong? Is David okay?”
“He’s frustrated and asking for you. He remembered some things that I think pertain to the beating, but they’re random and I can’t even make sense out of them, much less him. Hang on a sec.” There was a rustling noise on the line, voices Dusty couldn’t make out and then Tristan was back. “Okay, you’re on speakerphone Dusty; David wanted to ask you something.”
“Can you stop somewhere and get me some tacos, D? I really want some tacos.” David’s voice was faint, but clear. It made Dusty smile hearing him finally asking something other than “What the fuck happened to me?”
“Of course D, what kind do you want? Chicken, beef or brisket?” Dusty asked, the fear that had twisted around his chest like a snake after listening to Tristan’s first message slowly fading away.
“I don’t care, surprise me. Just be sure to grab extra hot sauce and guacamole, okay?”
“You got it, see you soon.” He hung up and hit the gas, eating up the distance between Mamaroneck and the city in no time since it was later in the day. Arriving at the hospital an hour or so later, arms weighed down with four bags of food, he was pleased to see David smiling and talking with Tristan. Uncertain of exactly what David would like, Dusty had gotten one of everything just to be safe. Once the three of them had picked what they wanted, Dusty took the rest of the food down to the nurses’ station. A couple of the nurses there that day were weekenders that worked the twenty-four for forty shift, and they were grateful to have something to eat that wasn’t microwavable or from a vending machine.
Dusty waited until they finished their food before poking and prodding, wanting to know what David had remembered.
“I remember coming home from classes and Dale was there waiting for me. He was choking me again but this time Mom wasn’t there to stop him. And then he…” David paused, drawing in a shaky breath, picking at the threads in his blanket as he often did when he was upset or frazzled. “…he punched me the face, hard. I…I think that’s what happened to my eye.” His hand lifted almost involuntarily, hovering over the eye he could no longer and probably never would see out of again. “It hurt so bad D, when he hit me. It felt like my brain exploded or something.” David whispered.
Dusty took one step toward the bed, stopping and glaring at Tristan when he shook his head. He mouthed the words…“Wait, let him talk,” to Dusty.
“But then my mind drifts to the night I came out, sitting at the table in the kitchen with Mom and her minister. At least, I think it’s the night I came out.” David grabbed the blanket in his hands, fisting it between his fingers. He dropped the blanket, reaching up and shoving the bed table away, hard. “Dammit! It’s fucking useless. I’m never going to remember what happened!” he shouted. It took every ounce of self-control Dusty had not to go to him and comfort him.
David’s head jerked up and he pointed at Dusty, his expression dark and stormy. “And you fucking know what happened and won’t tell me! None of you will!” David turned on Tristan as well, staring daggers at his therapist.
“D, that’s not true; you know why we haven’t told you.” Dusty ignored the almost imperceptible movement of Tristan’s head, side to side, continuing to silently ask Dusty not to comfort David. He moved quickly to David’s side, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the smaller man close and holding him until his body stopped trembling. Dusty patted his back and whispered to him, telling David it would all come back to him with time.
The heaviness crashed over David in waves and the floodgates opened. Dusty sat and held him, letting David cry for as long as he needed. “I’m sorry.” David eventually composed himself enough to speak. He held tight to Dusty for a few more seconds before looking up at him, tear-soaked cheeks lifted into a half-assed smile. “Sorry D, it’s just so frustrating, these jumbled up memories that don’t make any sense.” He turned to face Tristan. “You too Tristan, I know you’re only trying to help, both of you.”
Dusty reached over and grabbed David’s chin, turning his head back to him. “You have nothing to be sorry about, D. You hear me? Nothing at all.” Dusty barely managed to stifle the groan moving up his vocal cords when he saw David’s eyes focus in on his lips, the wounded man’s nostrils flaring. A glance at Tristan told Dusty that he noticed as well, his one eyebrow cocked as he watched the two of them.
Thankfully, a nurse came in to check David’s vitals, giving Dusty the opportunity to pretend he hadn’t noticed. Tristan jerked his head toward the hallway and Dusty followed him right outside of David’s room, refusing to go much further.
“He’s very attached to you Dusty, you realize that, right?” Tristan asked. Dusty nodded, leaning backward so he could see into David’s room. The nurse was speaking softly; what was being said Dusty couldn’t tell, but he relaxed a bit when he heard David giggling.
Tristan snapped his fingers, pulling Dusty’s attention back to him. “You also realize there’s nothing wrong if you are attached to him as well, right?”
The need to refute Tristan’s words bounced around in Dusty’s brain. His s
pine stiffening, he stopped shuffling his feet and stood ramrod straight, his rebuttal on the tip of his tongue.
Tristan snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t even think about getting defensive with me, Dusty. It’s written all over your face. You can lie to yourself, you can try to lie to me, but don’t lie to him.”
Dusty sighed, running his fingers through his unruly hair. “Yeah, I just, I feel like a dick for even looking at him as anything more than a friend after what he’s been through, Tris. And yes, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him. What he needs is a friend, and that is where I need to keep things right now.”
Tristan sighed. “Just…be honest with him Dusty, don’t hide behind his injuries. Your relationship with him, whatever it may be, could be the key to unlocking his memory. Oh, and for the record, I wasn’t telling you not to comfort him earlier when he was upset. I was asking you to give him time to recognize and feel his emotions. You’re very…protective, quick to comfort, and that’s not a bad thing, per se. But sometimes he needs to deal with what he’s feeling, to figure out why.”