by Mel Gough
“Hurts so bad…” Donnie was trying to curl up into a ball, but there wasn’t enough space on the bed. His hands were pressing onto his stomach hard.
Ben found the call button just as Donnie gave a moan of distress and started to gag. Ben quickly reached for the basin on the bedside table, and Donnie scrabbled his hands onto Ben’s, pulling the basin close. A moment later, bile splattered onto plastic. Donnie moaned again and retched harder. As they waited for the nurse, Ben did his best to sit them up so Donnie wouldn’t choke. His heart was racing. When the gagging finally stopped, Donnie leaned his head against Ben’s neck with a whimper, his forehead furiously hot.
Despite the night nurse’s sincere words and Ben’s desperate pleading, Donnie refused another dose of painkillers. Eventually, the nurse paged the doctor on call. Donnie was nearly screaming with the pain by the time Dr. Greene could convince him to accept more codeine. As soon as the medication had disappeared into the catheter on the back of Donnie’s hand, Donnie fell asleep in Ben’s arms, heavy and feverish. He remained restless, and his fever climbed and climbed. The doctor pushed more IV anti-inflammatories, then checked on Donnie every twenty minutes. Finally, when it was just getting light outside, Donnie’s temperature finally dropped.
Dr. Greene performed an ultrasound as soon as Donnie was lucid enough to understand the procedure. “You’ve had some bleeding in your pancreas, Donnie,” the doctor explained afterward, wiping the sticky ultrasound gel off Donnie’s belly. “You’ll have to stay in the ICU a few more days, so we can monitor you.” The fact that Donnie didn’t even protest made it clear just how exhausted he was.
Another day passed slowly, and Ben hardly moved from Donnie’s side. Donnie dozed fitfully, still in evident discomfort. In the afternoon, after several more doses of anti-inflammatory drugs, he awoke looking slightly better.
He frowned when he saw Ben sitting in the chair by the bed again. “Yer not at work.”
“I took an emergency day,” Ben said. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better… but, man, ya look like shit.”
Ben grinned. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Come and lie down with me again. Ya need some shut eye.”
Ben didn’t need telling twice.
“Feels weird,” Donnie said when Ben had settled himself and pulled Donnie into his arms.
“What’s that?” Ben asked, alarmed that something might be hurting Donnie again.
“Snuggling,” Donnie said, his head resting on Ben’s chest. There was a smile in his voice. “Never had someone to snuggle with before. It’s nice.”
“Yeah,” Ben said, smiling too. “Yeah, it is. Nobody’s wanted to snuggle with me in a long while.”
“Good thing we found each other, then,” Donnie said quietly, hugging Ben.
Ben looked down at the strawberry-blond tousled head, and a great wave of tenderness filled him. “It sure is,” he whispered.
DONNIE AS GOOD as kicked Ben out that night. “Go home. Shower. Eat some food that’s not chips an’ soda. Sleep in yer own bed, and come back tomorrow after work.”
Ben grinned down at him. “That’s not like you, being the boss.”
“I worry ‘bout ya, is all,” Donnie said gruffly. Ben put a hand against his face and stroked the still slightly bruised cheekbone gently. Donnie closed his eyes with a sigh. He definitely craved physical contact, but a certain nervousness about their growing intimacy still remained.
“Alright, I’m going,” Ben said. “Where are your keys? I’ll go by your place and bring you some clothes.”
THE PAIN’S STILL just on this side of bearable. Donnie squirms around on the bed until he’s on his side and can pull his knees up against his belly. There, that helps a bit. He checks that all the IV lines sneaking into his arm are still attached, and frowns at the empty plastic bags hanging above him. Why’s nobody coming? He pressed the nurse call button twenty minutes ago.
Donnie groans and hides his face in the pillow. To take his mind off the hollow, gnawing sensation in his stomach, he conjures Ben’s face in his mind. Thinking about Ben always makes him a little happier, a little better. The pain recedes another notch.
Donnie still can’t believe how Ben just accepted his HIV, and is sticking with him regardless. Arthur was right, as usual. Arthur gets people. He knew right away what a great guy Ben is. Donnie’s been so damn lucky.
Ya don’t deserve him, asshole. Floyd’s voice in his head, so real it makes Donnie jump. Fear slices through him, together with another piercing jolt of pain in his belly. Donnie moans and curls up more tightly.
“S’not true. Shut up,” he whispers, and tries to bring back Ben’s face—his gentle smile, those green, green eyes that look at Donnie with so much tenderness. He tries to feel that love that radiates from Ben, and that Donnie doesn’t even know how to deal with.
That cop ain’t interested, Floyd’s voice insists. He’s jus’ feelin’ sorry for yer ass, is all. Yer dreamin’, lil brother.
Donnie inhales sharply. His ribs, broken when Floyd kicked him, twinge suddenly. “Am not,” he breathes with a wince. “Ben’s not—not like that…” Tears are soaking his pillow, tears of pain and fear and sadness at the nasty thoughts.
“Where’s that damn nurse?” He’s hurting so bad. He blindly gropes for the call button and presses it again. A rumbling, squirming sensation has started deep inside his gut, and now erupts into a slicing cramp.
“Oww,” Donnie moans. He should be empty. He hasn’t eaten anything since Ben got him to the ER. But his body doesn’t give a shit about that logic. He’ll need the bathroom, and soon.
“Ben,” he says very quietly into his pillow, embarrassed and humiliated by his own neediness. “Ben, please…help…”
Chapter Fourteen
WALKING DOWN THE hallway to Donnie’s room, better rested, properly fed, and clean, Ben smiled to himself. He was looking forward to seeing Donnie and telling him that he’d been right to put his foot down. Getting away from the hospital had done Ben a world of good. But the smile vanished from Ben’s face the moment he stepped into Donnie’s room.
Donnie lay curled on his side, as tense and miserable as he had been three nights before when Ben found him doubled up with pain at home. His face was ashen and sweaty, and his eyes were dark with agony.
Ben dropped the small bag with Donnie’s things that he was carrying and hurried to Donnie’s side. “Buddy, what’s wrong? Why didn’t you ring for help?”
“Did…an…hour ‘go,” Donnie gasped.
The IV bags hanging over the bed were all empty. “When did they last give you pain meds?”
“This mornin’.”
“I’ll be right back. Hang tight.” Ben squeezed Donnie’s shoulder, then ran from the room. On his way in, he’d missed the red call light flashing above Donnie’s door, so absorbed had he been in his anticipation. He sprinted toward the nurses’ station. When he got close enough to hear the two duty nurses talking, he stopped dead.
“Shouldn’t we see what he wants now, in room 102?” one of them was just saying.
The other one made a dismissive noise. “That’s the faggy drug addict. All he wants is a shot. He’s not getting any pain meds from me.”
Ben couldn’t believe his ears. He was about to confront the women when he spotted Dr. Greene come down the corridor toward them. “Doctor,” Ben called, loud enough to be audible over at the nurses’ station. “My—” He hesitated, then pressed on, “—boyfriend is in agony. He needs pain meds right now!” Then he turned and gave the two nurses his most withering stare. “And if either of these two comes near us again, I’m suing this hospital!” Then he turned and hurried back toward Donnie’s room.
“Ben,” Dr. Greene panted, trying to keep up. “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you soon as you make sure Donnie’s okay.” Ben wrenched the door open and strode inside, hurrying his steps as soon as his eyes fell on Donnie. “Whoa, buddy, what is it?”
Donnie was tr
ying to push himself to sitting but didn’t have the strength and was getting seriously tangled in the IV lines. “Need…bathroom…oww!”
Ben was by Donnie’s side in a couple of strides, desperate to help, but at a loss with the wires and plastic tubes. He threw the doctor a panicky look. “Help me, will ya? Get these things off him!”
By the time the doctor had unplugged everything and Donnie was upright, he was whimpering and shaking in Ben’s arms. Ben led him straight into the bathroom, but here Donnie stopped dead. He wrapped his arms around his middle and leaned his forehead on Ben’s shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, Ben. Oh god…”
“What?”
“I—” Donnie began, but Ben already knew.
“No matter. Let me help.” Ben made to pull down Donnie’s soiled boxer shorts, but Donnie grabbed his wrist.
“Put on…gloves.”
“Donnie, this won’t—”
“Just do it…” Donnie’s grip on Ben tightened as his insides cramped again. He gave a suppressed moan but wouldn’t meet Ben’s eyes.
“Alright,” Ben murmured and reached out to take a pair of nitrile gloves from a dispenser on the wall, while Donnie fought to control his treacherous body. When Ben finally pulled Donnie’s underpants down and helped him take off the hospital nightgown, they were dealing with a proper mess. Donnie whimpered again and averted his face.
“You gonna be alright for a minute?” Ben asked Donnie when he had helped him onto the toilet. “I’ll grab some fresh things for you.”
Donnie nodded silently, and Ben quickly got the bag with Donnie’s clothes. He waited for Donnie to let him know he was finished, then helped him clean up and into a fresh pair of boxer shorts and a T-shirt. The other man kept his eyes averted and didn’t speak. He was sweaty and heavy in Ben’s arms as they slowly returned to the bed, and he curled up away from Ben as soon as he was lying down.
The doctor reconnected the IVs and hung fresh bags, then pushed an extra strong dose of painkillers. The tension gradually drained from Donnie, and his shoulders relaxed as the medication took effect, but he didn’t move. He was clearly at the end of his endurance, and Ben had no more words to console him.
Chapter Fifteen
BEN SPENT THE night sitting up in the hard plastic chair next to Donnie’s bed, and didn’t sleep a wink. He didn’t dare climb into bed next to the sick man, who was fitfully asleep. The codeine had dulled the pain, but had not eradicated it.
That was only half the truth, however. Ben didn’t dare wake Donnie, afraid of his reaction. Donnie hadn’t wanted his comfort and support while he was battling with this latest setback, so why would he want Ben now? Ben ached for Donnie, the feeling of powerlessness growing stronger as the dark night hours ticked by. Consumed with misery, Ben sat, his eyes drooping, his heart hurting.
“Ben?”
Donnie’s voice startled Ben from his doze just as the sunlight was starting to creep across the room. He rubbed his eyes. Donnie had rolled over onto his back, his IV lines tangled in the sheets. His eyes were two big pools of blue in the hazy morning light. He blinked and rolled over onto his right side, trying to focus on Ben.
Ben straightened up. “Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?”
“Why didn’t ya come to bed?” Donnie asked with a frown, ignoring Ben’s question.
“I…I didn’t want to disturb you. You were having a hard time staying asleep at all.” Ben felt himself blush.
Donnie’s eyebrows went up. He wasn’t buying it. “Ya lying.” His voice was barely audible, but the hardly suppressed anger in it was unmistakable.
“What?” Ben’s heart beat faster in his chest. “I…no, Donnie.”
“Told ya it was gonna be like this. It ain’t pretty, Ben!” Donnie’s voice rose, and his eyes were cold with disappointment. “Told ya. Yer stupid ta think that this—us could work.” His gaze became dark as a wave of pain washed over him, and he shuddered, closing his eyes.
“Donnie…”
“Ya better go, Ben.” Donnie’s voice was thick with emotion and discomfort, and he didn’t open his eyes again.
Ben sat very still for a moment, contemplating Donnie’s words. He could do as the other man asked. The possibility of losing Donnie now, when they’d barely begun to get to know each other, made him feel faintly sick. Ben stood up from the chair, but instead of walking out of the room, he sat down on the bed by Donnie’s side. Donnie, his shoulders already tensed in anticipation of the pain Ben’s departure would cause, looked up.
“No, Donnie,” Ben said gently, his voice quivering a little. He exhaled and took Donnie’s right hand, the one free of wires and catheters. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not a quitter. I don’t up and leave when shit gets rough. And neither do you.”
The tears that glistened in Donnie’s eyes only needed a moment to start falling. Donnie’s fever-warm fingers gripped Ben’s hand tightly, and he swallowed hard against the rush of sadness and anger.
“Ya had to wipe my ass for me,” he whispered thickly. “I’m a disgusting—”
“You know that this is nonsense,” Ben interrupted. He hesitated, unsure how much comfort Donnie would accept. Then he reached out and gently cupped Donnie’s face, stroking the soft ginger hairs that were starting to cover Donnie’s jaw, since he hadn’t had an opportunity to shave for several days. Tears were rolling down Donnie’s cheek, feeling slick and hot against Ben’s fingers. “You didn’t choose to be ill. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no shame in accepting my help. I give it freely. I want nothing in return.” Ben had to swallow against his own tears now. “I want you to be well and healthy. It breaks my heart to see you like this. I’m not scared of that damn virus. But I’m scared I’ll lose you, that you’ll push me away.”
Donnie lifted his hand, catheter lines dangling, and he placed it against Ben’s, still stroking his face. “I don’t get it, man,” he whispered.
“I don’t, either,” Ben replied. “Can we try anyway?”
More tears spilled down Donnie’s face, but he nodded jerkily. “Okay, Ben. Okay, we’ll try.”
“NICE HOUSE, MAN!”
Donnie was holding on to Ben hard as they stopped in the entrance hall, and his heart was beating against Ben much too fast. But when Donnie looked up, he was smiling.
Ben pushed the door closed behind them. “Thanks. It’s a good size, and Helen has taste.”
The smile vanished from Donnie’s face at the mention of Helen. Ben cursed himself inwardly. Out loud, he said, “You look like you need a break. Sofa first?”
Donnie glanced at the staircase apprehensively. “Yeah,” he said, sounding breathless.
The short walk up from the car had been an ordeal. After a week in ICU, Donnie was in less pain, but he was weak and had a long recovery still ahead of him. Ben was glad that Donnie had agreed to come home with him. It would be easier to take care of him here, even with the added obstacle of stairs.
Ben helped Donnie stretch out on the sofa, then sat down by his side and waited while some color began to return to his face.
Donnie’s gaze came to rest on Ben, and he smiled again. “Thanks,” he said, then felt for Ben’s hand and pulled it to his chest. “I’m glad to be outta that place.” It seemed to Ben that Donnie wanted to say something else, but nothing came.
“I’m glad to have you out of there, too,” Ben agreed. The neglect Donnie had suffered at the hand of those nurses made them both desperate for Donnie to leave the hospital as soon as possible.
They hadn’t talked much about what had happened. Donnie had remained subdued after the incident and hadn’t let Ben help as willingly as before. The day after, when Donnie’s pain was under control again, Dr. Greene had come to apologize, and Ben had seen the distress on Donnie’s face when he understood what exactly had happened. Once they were alone again, Donnie had begged Ben not to make a scene, and Ben had acquiesced. In his condition, Donnie couldn’t cope with the additional stress of a formal complaint to the ho
spital. For a while, Ben had worried that Donnie would pull away again and demand that Ben leave him alone. He didn’t think he had the strength to talk Donnie around again. But Dr. Greene and the other members of staff had done their best to make it up to them, and gradually, as his condition improved, Donnie’s mood had lifted.
“And I’m glad you’re starting to get better,” Ben said. “You really had me worried there.”
Tears were suddenly shimmering in Donnie’s eyes. “It’s a nice feelin’, that ya care. I’m sorry I’m such hard work.”
“Heyheyhey, no tears, buddy! ‘Course I care.” Ben stroked Donnie’s face with his index finger, and Donnie gave a shuddery sigh, trying not to let his emotions take over. This was new territory for them both, and each of them was trying to cope the best he could.
To distract himself, Donnie looked around, and his gaze fell on the mantelpiece behind Ben. His eyes brightened and he gave a little smile. “That yer daughter?” He indicated the pictures standing on the mantel, and Ben got up to fetch a couple of the frames.
“Yeah, that’s Laura.” Ben smiled down at Laura’s newest high school photo. Helen always displayed the latest one in a place of pride as soon as the school sent it. He handed Donnie the frame. “She’s looking extra grumpy. I recognize the warning signs. Guess we better brace ourselves for the hormones and temper tantrums.”
Donnie smiled, too, and took the picture. “She’s real pretty.” He glanced up. “Can see where she gets it.” His voice was low and smooth. Surprised, Ben looked up from the picture in Donnie’s hand. It was true enough, Laura had inherited his dark hair and green eyes, but her tall slender frame and the heart-shaped face were all Helen.
Ben gave a little grin. “Nah, she takes after her mom.”
A shadow crossed over Donnie’s face but disappeared quickly. He was doing his best to get used to Ben’s past, just like Ben had gotten used to his. Donnie reached for the other photograph Ben was holding. It showed Helen, Laura, and Ben outside Helen’s parents’ house. Helen’s dad had taken it the last time the three of them had visited Helen’s parents together at their retirement bungalow in Savannah. Ben noticed the strained smiles on his and Helen’s face for the first time. How long had they been teetering on the edge before everything had finally crashed and burned? The photo was six months old. It must have been longer than he’d thought.