by Jerry Cole
“You sure know how to piss people off.” Sparkle scolded the patient as soon as the door closed behind the nurse. Simon was tempted to laugh but ended up grimacing instead. Sparkle resumed his perch on the corner of the bed, running his hands through Simon’s thick black hair, pulling it away from his handsome face.
“You look like a soap opera actor sitting in this bed, you know?” Sparkle used his thumbs to trace the delicate curve of Simon’s cheeks and nose. “You don’t look sick at all. You still look like Superman to me.”
Simon looked up into the younger man’s eyes but didn’t say anything. Looking at Sparkle, watching him carefully appraise every pore on his face, Simon could almost believe his words.
“Jerrod said you didn’t tell me about the problem with your stomach because you didn’t want me to see you at your worst. Is he right?”
“I’m not a whiner. I’m not in the habit of complaining about every ache or pain in my body. At my age, I would never stop complaining.”
“Oh, shut up,” Sparkle cupped the obstinate man’s face in his hands. “You’re not old. And even if you were, you’re making a very good case for dating old men. But most importantly, I’m here for you. If you’re in pain, I want to know about it. Even if I can’t help, I can hold your hand. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”
Simon smiled softly and nodded. He wouldn’t promise that he would share every injury and fear with his better half, but he was happy to know that if he wanted to share, somebody wanted to listen.
Chapter Nineteen
“While we have you here, we are going to go ahead and give you a colonoscopy to make sure that there aren’t any other issues that we’re missing.”
Simon nodded listlessly. Everybody around him seemed intent on reassuring him that he was going to be fine and that this little episode was nothing more than a minor health crisis.
It didn’t feel that way. It felt like his body was failing him, and the clear liquids and soft food diet that his doctor had prescribed for him did nothing to improve his mood. Sparkle added his special blend of tough love and herbal teas that looked like rabbit piss and tasted like water. The one bright spot was that Taft was allowing him to telework during his recovery.
“You’ll be back home in a few days,” Sparkle said, climbing into bed next to the cranky senior executive. It was his habit to spend his off hours next to Simon, even if they were only sitting in companionable silence, tapping away at their laptops. Simon could see the stress and inconvenience of the situation beginning to show on his face, but Sparkle didn’t utter one word of complaint. It was endearing and frustrating.
“Good, I’m no good in hospital beds,” Simon grumbled, pulling Sparkle close and running an appreciative thumb across the arch of his eyebrows.
“You know what the doctor said. No strenuous activities until you’re all healed,” Sparkle warned, laying his head on Simon’s chest.
Truthfully, sex had been the farthest thing from either of their minds, but Simon was only flesh and blood. And the direction his blood was flowing right now had very little to do with his mind, and everything to do with sex. How many days had it been since he last satisfied himself?
Sparkle laced his fingers through Simon’s and snuggled closer to his warmth.
“How long until I’m all healed?”
“Just a few weeks,” Sparkle chirped.
Simon slid his hand out of Sparkle’s grip and let it rest on Sparkle’s thigh.
“They are trying to ruin my life,” Simon growled into Sparkle’s ear, sliding his hand up the firm thigh to the soft flesh between his legs.
“And you are trying to ruin my good intentions, Mister Big Stuff,” Sparkle said, sliding off the bed in a single fluid motion. “Since you are feeling better, I can go home and get a good night’s sleep.”
“You can still sleep without me?”
“I can do anything if I have to, and so can you,” Sparkle said keeping his eyes down as he packed up his laptop and cords.
“That’s what I’m saying. I’m sure I can find a way to make you feel good without bursting my stitches,” Simon argued. His stately cock stood proudly at attention.
Sparkle eyed the recuperating man’s crotch with a gaze so heated Simon could almost feel it as it passed over his body. Biting back an involuntary moan, he continued to recline against the pillows seductively, the relaxed pose masking the tightly coiled masculinity. Coaxing his prey to come to him was a special talent that Simon perfected.
“Normally, I wouldn’t let an opportunity like this go to waste. But you are not a well man, Mr. Burns, and I love you too much to give in just like that,” Sparkle retorted, disappointment written all over his face.
Simon watched, with astonishment, as Sparkle quickly packed his bag and left the room without bothering to look up or look back. As the heavy door closed behind him, Simon couldn’t shake the feeling that something else exited with Sparkle. Something he didn’t realize he needed but had always had.
“I think we’re losing our touch,” Simon said to his cock.
For nearly an hour, Simon lay there, trying to sooth the ache in his chest. He was relatively sure that a physical ailment didn't cause it, although, since he was already in a hospital bed, he didn’t have too much farther to fall. His body was betraying him. He was a seducer. It was the one thing he never failed to accomplish, and yet, he had been left holding a hard dick with nobody to put it in. A soft rap on the door pulled him out of his musings.
Rather than face another sympathetic face, Simon closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
“Oh, he is handsome,” said the voice of a woman, her soft rubber shoes squishing quietly as she moved around the room.
“I told you, girl,” said a deeper male voice.
“See? This is why we’re best friends. We have the same taste in men. I love them big and manly,” she said.
“Yeah, but he’s too old for me. I do not have daddy issues, okay?!”
“Shut up. What daddy issues? He is a good-looking older gentleman. There is nothing wrong with getting a piece of that pumpkin pie,” said the female voice with a short guffaw.
“I don’t know. I mean he is already here. It would be one thing if he were healthy and just older, but he’s obviously sick. I just can’t have a man die on me.”
“Shut up. He could have had an accident or something; you don’t know.”
“You’re right. I don’t know, and I don’t want to have to find out. That shit is heartbreaking. Remember when Simone’s husband got cancer? I’m not that strong. I can’t do all of that.”
“You could, if you loved him.” The sympathetic female said softly. Simon was relieved when he heard the sound of the door being pulled back and the squish of rubber shoes as she made her way through.
“Maybe,” the man said, before following the fading squishing.
Simon didn’t bother opening his eyes. There was nothing he wanted to see, least of all his reflection. He had never suffered from the painful and crippling self-consciousness that many others struggled to overcome. Since he was a young boy, he knew he was good-looking—a fact that was only confirmed by the gaze of his peers. His confidence in his desirability was like a suit of armor, a wall he could hide all of his messiness behind. Even as the years ticked by, the reflection seemed virtually unchanged.
For the first time, it seemed, there was a dent in his armor. For the first time in his life, he wondered if it would hold out, and if it couldn’t, would the man inside the armor be enough? Would Sparkle, or anybody, still want him once he began the slow decline to a feeble old man?
He looked into his future and saw a disgusting, withered old man using his money to lure young, desperate rent-boys. Or even worse, a desperate old man at the mercy of a heartless lover. Simon Burns was a name that invoked money, power, and respect. He had never had a reason to think that it would ever change.
And yet…
He slept poorly and woke up grumpy. De
spite the deep frown he wore all day, he wasn’t angry. He was scared. Without his sex appeal, who was he?
“Hey, I’m sorry I’m running late today, but I’m coming. Don’t worry. How are you feeling?” Sparkle’s breathless voice boomed through the phone. He was running somewhere cavernous. Simon could hear the click of his heels and the echo of his voice.
“You don’t have to trouble yourself. Just come tomorrow.” Simon couldn’t stand the thought of Sparkle stuck beside him, trying to cheer him up, pretending that everything was okay. The strain of trying to seem better was more than he was capable of at the moment.
“You don’t want me there?” The running ceased.
“I don’t want you working so hard to be here every day. You’re starting to look tired. Stay home and get some rest. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
“Ha! I will be kind and not inform you what you look like, laid up in that hospital room, wearing a pastel gown,” Sparkle teased, as he resumed walking. “Baby, are you okay? You sound a little down.”
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Simon admitted.
“I guess that’s at least partly my fault. I shouldn’t have left you swinging in the wind like that. I just didn’t want us to get carried away and end up setting back your recovery. I promise, as soon as we get the okay from your doctor, I will make it up to you.”
“Don’t patronize me. I’m not a sulky child,” Simon growled, before hanging up the phone.
He regretted it the moment the line went dead. That was a bonehead move.
“You’re slipping, Burns,” he whispered to himself.
“And you’re talking to yourself. That’s never a good sign,” said a pleasant voice. The nurse has slipped in unnoticed by Simon. He stood at the foot of Simon’s bed, looking like he just stepped out of a California surfer fantasy. “I’m here to get your vitals.”
Simon didn’t say anything. The nurse didn’t stop smiling.
“It looks like they got you in here for…” Surfer Nurse checked the clipboard. “Perforated ulcer. Eww. Nasty business, but a big guy like you should be able to bounce back in no time. Can I just get you to open your collar a little bit?”
Simon did as he was instructed, watching every movement the nurse made with studied interest. This one had nice muscle tone and smelled like sunshine and fabric softener instead of disinfectant and death.
“You must be new,” Simon remarked, glibly.
“I am. Fresh out of nursing school. But this isn’t my first day; I just don’t usually work this ward.”
“Lucky me.”
“You are in luck, because I’m a lot of fun to talk to,” Surfer Nurse fired back, ignoring the sarcasm in Simon’s voice.
“Anybody ever tell you you’re an annoying ass?”
“No, but I’ve been called a piece of ass before. Not one of my prouder moments, but all is well that ended well.” Surfer Nurse wrote a few things down on the chart and then put it back in its original place.
“I could see that,” Simon smiled one of his famous smiles. The kind that disarmed and intrigued at the same time. To his surprise, Surfer Nurse smiled back. “So do they still have you ladies pulling sixteen-hour shifts here, or what?”
“It’s a thankless job, but somebody has to do it,” he said, disposing of his blue latex gloves with a loud snap. A tiny shimmer caught Simon’s eye and he noticed the plain silver-colored circle on his ring finger. Married?
Simon snorted. He’d seen enough married men frequent his bathhouse to be more than a little cynical about the institution. People stayed together for as long as they could, or for as long as they had to. There wasn’t any point in making promises beyond that.
“Still, being able to send somebody home to their family after a tough stretch in the hospital…that makes it all worth it,” Surfer Nurse added.
“Loved one, huh?”
“Yeah, do you have a family?”
“I thought I did. But, now I’m not so sure,” Simon fell back against the pillows.
“Well, if you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. My name is Beau, by the way. Beau Gaudet.” The friendly nurse offered his hand, but Simon simply closed his eyes.
“Cajun?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“I had Cajun once. Spicy.”
Chapter Twenty
The call came in from Sparkle’s agent. The show was a huge departure for the starlet. A dramatic role about a soldier coming to terms with the things he did during the war, and the way they changed him. It would stretch Sparkle artistically, and the rehearsal schedule was grueling. Sparkle would play the second male lead, having almost as many scenes and lines as the protagonist. He would play Cecil, a man who was too soft for war but proved himself valiant when the time came.
“I die in the end, but what a death,” Sparkle explained as he packed Simon’s things in a canvas bag.
“You sound excited to die,” Simon grumbled.
“You know what they say, always leave them wanting more.” Sparkle winked at his lover and smiled a secret smile.
Simon was in no position to appreciate jokes. The doctors completed his colonoscopy that morning, and he was being discharged. The sedatives they gave him were still swirling around in his system, and the procedure left him feeling bloated and sore. It occurred to him that this could be divine retribution for his decades as an aggressive top.
Simon swung his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to slip his feet into the slippers Sparkle had left there.
“One second, Old Man River, I’ll help you,” Sparkle teased.
“Fuck you,” Simon hissed, his voice scraping out of his throat like a tortured animal.
“What?”
“Fuck you, Sean. I can do it myself,” Simon grumbled, his eyes promising violent retribution if Sparkle even attempted to assist him.
Sparkle leaned against the wall, with his arms folded across his chest, as he watched Simon make several unsuccessful attempts at putting the slippers on smoothly.
“You think: just because I got sick, I’m an old man who can’t take care of himself. I’m not an old man,” Simon grumbled to himself as he finally slid into his shoes and walked into the bathroom.
“Okay, Father Time,” Sparkle teased, ignoring the grumpy man’s objections.
A quick knock announced the arrival of a blonde-haired man.
“Where’s the patient?” the upbeat man in hospital scrubs asked.
“In the bathroom.”
“Oh, he is passing gas and urine okay?”
“Yup,” Sparkle answered, giving the newcomer a once over. “What is that?”
“Discharge papers, I just need him to sign here and here,” the blonde marked the spots with a pen.
“I will make sure he signs them.”
“I’m sorry, but hospital policy says I have to see him sign them and answer any question he may have.”
“I’m his boyfriend, you can leave it with me,” Sparkle repeated, trying to clarify his position to the intruder. The word boyfriend caused a visible reaction on the blonde man’s face. He was not expecting that. Sparkle smiled smugly.
That’s right; he’s taken, boy. Hands off!
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that…uh, are you his responsible party?”
“I’m Sean Jones. I should be listed right there as the person to contact in case of emergency.”
“Oh, so you are. Colonoscopy, huh? Yikes,” the blonde man laughed nervously. “He can’t sign these anyway. You have to do it.”
“Even better,” Sparkle licked his lips and took the clipboard and pen from the startled young man.
“With all due respect, I didn’t think that you were—”
“A man.” Simon’s voice boomed from the doorway of the bathroom.
“You’re the only one who has ever been confused in that department,” Sparkle teased, rolling his eyes at Simon who walked across the room on unsteady legs and stopped suddenly, leaning on one strong,
muscled arm as he looked past Sparkle and leered at Beau.
“Oh,” Beau squeaked out, faintly.
Simon and Sparkle shared a knowing look and then smiled the way lovers do when they know that the joke is on the rest of the world.
“Get dressed big man, I have some paperwork to fill out,” Sparkle said, tapping Simon’s chest with a well-manicured hand. Simon caught it as it fluttered away from his chest and examined the smaller man’s hands intensely.
“No nail polish?”
“Nope. Just a quick buff and a healthy glow. My new role is kind of butch. I’m trying to get into the character.”
Simon stared at Sparkle as if he had not seen him in weeks. In fact, it had barely been more than a day. A long twenty-four hours that played with his insecurities and made him feel things he didn’t want to discuss, and yet, couldn’t escape. Starting his morning out with a tube up his butt only made him feel like all of the things he had taken for granted were suddenly changing. Seeing Sparkle’s face standing over him when it was done was both a comfort and a torment.
How could he look so healthy and vital and fresh? Why would he look so happy to see a sick old man? Sparkle looked much better standing next to Beau. They matched. Two young, healthy, good-looking men with their whole lives ahead of them made sense. A declining old playboy didn’t stand a chance in the long run. Eventually, the novelty will wear off, and he would be left alone. Simon swallowed hard as the thought of losing Sparkle clamped down on his heart.
“Okay, ready to roll, Big Man,” Sparkle said, picking up a fresh set of clothes from off the bed. “Do you need any help?”
“No.” Simon’s wobbly stance was less than reassuring.
Trying not to upset the patient, Sparkle stepped back and watched as Simon attempted to change his clothes, extending a steadying hand when it looked like Simon might go over.
“My turn to be a gentleman,” Sparkle said, lifting Simon’s bag over his shoulder as a different nurse came in with a wheelchair.
“I’m not an old man. I can walk on my own,” Simon protested.