by Sean Kennedy
Will also proved to be a great distraction as he fired questions at me about what he should do next. He had unofficially become Dec’s assistant at GetOut, and as they were basically an office of four people, he had quite a workload even though he was new. I had experience running an organisation myself, although a film festival was very different to a sporting charity. Admin is admin, no matter what business it’s for.
Micah looked a little pale, and I sat next to him. I winced as my balls immediately protested. They had settled down along with my butt and back about a week after my fire pole incident, but the ache had come back to a man’s most sensitive area. I must have pulled something and aggravated it again.
“He’ll be okay,” I said. It was funny how quickly I had settled into making other people feel better once I had screamed out my demons in public.
“I know,” Micah said, chewing on a fingernail. “It’s just, you can’t help but think, can you?”
“I try hard to avoid thinking at all costs.”
“Seriously, Simon.” Micah turned to me with a face full of worry. “He’s just… he’s just Dec.”
Fucking jocks and their inability to articulate their feelings for one another. I put my arm around him and was amazed when he didn’t flinch and settled against it.
“Dec would be the first to tell you this is a possibility in any contact sport. He always says if he’d stopped to think about, it he would never have gone onto the field.”
“I’m not really worried about myself,” Micah said, and I could tell he meant it. “I’m only just beginning to realise what I could do to other people without meaning to. I would much rather be injured than be the one doing the injury.”
I knew what he meant. Guilt was the worst. I looked over to Heyward’s alcove; the barest tip of his sneakers showed.
It didn’t mean I had that much sympathy for him. Too much history and all that. But I could imagine how Dec would feel if the shoe were on the other foot, and the amount of worry he would put himself through, waiting for the other person to be cleared of critical injury.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Micah. This isn’t my field of expertise. Ask me about the symbolism of the blue rose in the works of David Lynch, and I’m your man. All I can tell you is shit happens, but you get through it eventually.”
Micah sighed. “Nice pep talk, Simon.”
“Okay, I’ll pretend I’m Dec, right?” I affected a serious face and a low tone of voice. “The thing is, Micah, my most tortured teen, my young Padawan—”
Micah rolled his eyes but smiled.
“—you can’t second-guess yourself every time you go on the field, believing that your body is a weapon that could damage another. Everybody playing the game knows the risks, but they do it anyway. You can’t worry about it too much, or else your worry will eat you, make you nervous, and probably lead to you making a mistake that could injure someone. I, the wise Declan Tyler, Football God, and worshipper of Simon Murray—”
Micah groaned. “Now you’re pushing it.”
“—now sign off and return you to the even wiser Simon Murray.” I shook my head, as if awaking from a nap that put Rip Van Winkle to shame. “Where was I? Did I say something?”
“You were saying how talented I was and how mature I’ve become.”
“That doesn’t sound like me,” I deadpanned.
The nurse came and said they were ready for me to come in, and I told everybody I would give them an update soon. Roger grabbed me in a tight hug as I walked past him, and I patted his hand before he let me go.
Dec was lying on the bed with an IV in his arm. His head was lolling a little to one side, and his eyes had the unfocused quality of someone doped to the gills on painkillers.
“Hey, babe.” Those two syllables took about eight seconds to say.
I leaned in and kissed him. “I’m trying very hard not to lose it right now and tell you you’re a fucking idiot, but that’s only because you look like you’re in pain and also happen to be cute.”
His laugh was more of a wheeze. “You’re cute too.”
“Dec?” came Heyward’s voice from behind me.
I whirled around. “How the hell did you get in here?”
He shrugged. “I snuck in. It wasn’t that hard.”
“Then you’ll find it even easier to sneak back out.”
Dec tried to grab my arm, but he was actually reaching for empty space near it. “If it isn’t my most favourite person in the world,” he slurred, as if he had forgotten we had already greeted each other.
“He means me,” I told Heyward.
“Of course I mean you,” Dec said with a roll of his eyes that was so wonky it looked more horrific than anything else. Uf corsh I meen youuuu.
“See?”
Heyward rolled his own eyes. “Are you okay, Dec?”
Dec did a thumbs up, a very shaky thumbs up.
“See, he’s fine,” I lied. “You can go now.”
“I’m sorry, Dec,” Heyward said, and he at least had the grace to sound like he meant it.
“At least there’s one thing you’re sorry for,” I muttered.
“Heyyyyyyy,” Dec said. I think it was meant to be an admonishment, but it came out very sing-songy.
“Look, about that,” Heyward said. “I’m sorry about everything, okay?”
It was so rushed, it took a moment to process.
“That’s it?” I asked. He could have tried to gussy it up a little more.
“You want more?” he countered.
“Yeah, you could write another book, I guess.”
Dec’s fingers finally made contact with my arm.
“I mean it,” Heyward said. “I was a prick. But I guess nothing’s changed, hey, Dec?”
A shaky so-so motion came from the patient. He was too fucking nice for his own good, I swear.
But when I turned to say something to Heyward, he was gone.
“Wow, that was pretty anticlimactic,” I said to Dec.
The so-so motion again.
“Did they tell you they’re keeping you in overnight?”
Dec nodded. “Love you.”
I grinned. “I love you too. But you’re still in a lot of trouble, mister. You do remember you actually started it on the field, remember?”
“Yeah.” Four syllables contained in that short sentence.
“I liked it,” I told him.
Even in his drugged state, Dec managed to look even more confused than he had earlier.
“It proves you’re human. That you can fuck up too.”
“I’ve proved that lots of times.” I’ff proofed dat lotsatimes.
“Not as much as me.” I gently buried my face into the crook of his neck. “I’m keeping score.”
Chapter Four
WHENEVER YOU move, you have to get used to the noises the new house makes. You forget that your last one had them too, ones that had become so familiar, you couldn’t even remember there was a time they were strange; you have to brace yourself all over again for those things that go bump in the night. The week after Dec was discharged from his one painful night in hospital, we made the move from the Docklands to Fitzroy North. The fire station was currently in a shambles, with boxes everywhere and new pieces of furniture still Laura Palmered and waiting to be unwrapped from their plastic and placed in their new rooms.
Because the rooms were still pretty bare, an unfortunate echo accentuated every noise that rang through the house, and I had already woken up a couple of times with my heart racing because I thought I heard something, only to snuggle back into Dec and go back to sleep. Being on a busy road that was also a tramline meant there were other external noises to contend with. I had never realised how soundproof our old apartment was, because the Docklands hadn’t been a deserted wasteland either.
It was just, sometimes I felt like I wasn’t alone, even when I was. It was disconcerting to say the least, and when I tried to bring it up with Dec, he threatened to confiscate any
horror films or books in my collection.
I had just gotten home from work and the garage door was rolling down behind me. As I passed the fire pole, my balls ached in memory of what I had done to them.
As soon as I opened the door that connected the garage to the hall, a dull thud sounded from somewhere deeper in the house.
“Hello?” I called, like every horror movie character stupid enough to soon find themselves stabbed or garrotted. Or stabbed and garrotted.
No answer. Dec was meant to be at the GetOut offices, and he’d said he was catching the bus that ran between Fitzroy and Carlton as roadwork was temporarily blocking their car park.
Another thud. I walked cautiously towards the direction of the sound, which seemed to be the large kitchen that used to comfortably house a team of firemen during their meal breaks.
I jumped through the doors, doing exactly what horror movie characters shouldn’t do, and found a pair of naked hairy legs poking out from under the sink. They jerked in obvious shock, and I heard a head connecting with the pipes within.
Two very familiar hairy legs.
My almost-husband-except-for-the-law swung out from under the sink, rubbing his head. “Fuck!”
I went slack-jawed and incoherent. He was dressed in nothing but an old pair of footy shorts, his chest and forehead glistening with sweat.
“You scared me!” he moaned.
“Oh. Uh, erggh.”
“Well, oh, uh, erggh to you too. The sink’s blocked and the bloody air con is on the fritz. The sink I can handle, but I’ve had to call in a guy for the air. Of course, he can’t make it ’til bloody Wednesday.” His eyes fixed upon me. “Simon?”
I threw myself onto the ground beside him, on my back with my legs in the air. “Take me now, He-Man!”
Dec methodically wiped his hands on a tea towel. “Funny.”
“I’m being serious, you bohunk of a man. What are you doing here, anyway?”
He gestured at the sink. “This went as I was making a coffee.”
“And you knew what to do?” I was impressed.
“Of course!” He was offended.
“Did you YouTube the solution, or call your dad?” I asked.
He hesitated. “YouTube. Anyway, I think it’s working now.” He stood to turn on the tap, and I jumped up to join him. The water turned on with ease, a nice steady and regular flow.
“Beautiful,” I said.
“Except now I probably have concussion. Again.”
I grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him towards me. “I’ll kiss it better.”
“You want this messy sweaty thing all over your suit?”
“It’ll wash. Or dry clean. Whatever you’re meant to do with this thing.”
“Nope. I won’t be responsible for staining it.”
I held his gaze as I shucked off my jacket and started unbuttoning my shirt. It was hot in the kitchen, so it was actually a relief. Dec’s eyes popped open as I let the shirt and jacket fall to the floor. “Better?”
“Wow,” he said, unable to take his eyes off me. “You’re shirtless. During daylight hours.”
“If that’s what it takes to get you to kiss me.”
His arm snaked around my waist to pull me in. “I should refuse to kiss you more often.”
“You’ll have to be dirty at the time, just to make sure.”
“It’s not really a comfortable feeling,” he admitted. “There’s a reason why we used to shower after games.”
“Was it to kiss your team members? It sounds like a movie I once watched.”
Dec chuckled. “No. Not to kiss them. Abe once, but he was really drunk.”
This time it was my eyes that were popping.
“You are so gullible.” That laugh again.
“I think I need to get dressed.” I reached for my shirt.
“No chance,” Dec said, rolling his weight over me and pinning me against the sink. He snatched the shirt from me and threw it out of arm’s reach. “In fact, I don’t want to stain your pants, so maybe you should get them off too.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I told him. “But for the moment, seeing I’m stuck here, you might as well continue kissing me.”
“Yeah,” he said, between kisses that were travelling from my neck down to my belly. “Might as well.”
IT WAS even hotter up in our bedroom, but Dec had at least pulled a couple of fans out that attempted to dry the sweat off our bodies as we continued to undress each other.
Dec’s hand travelled over my arse, up my thigh, and just as it reached its destination, I let out an involuntary yelp. A soft one, to be sure, but Dec caught it immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “Don’t stop now.”
He watched me carefully as his hand continued moving.
I actually bit my lip. Fuck, I hadn’t known I was that sore.
Dec was properly concerned now, and all pleasure was off the table and gone straight to business. “Uh… Simon, what’s that?”
“I think you’re well acquainted with what you’re holding,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Seriously, you can’t feel that?” His fingers were relentless, and I was trying not to cry out.
“I know that it’s suddenly gone from pleasure to annoyance,” I bit back.
Dec sat up properly and stared at me. “You really can’t feel it?”
“Look, when I fell off the fire pole, I landed on my arse and was in pain for a bit. I think I’ve pulled a muscle.”
“That was weeks ago! And that’s not a muscle. That’s a lump.”
The fear in his voice turned my blood to ice despite the sweat on my skin.
He grabbed my hand and pulled it down. At first I felt stupid twiddling my balls in front of him, but then I felt it. An extra little lump that I swore hadn’t been there before. Or had it? How could I have missed it?
Well, it was tiny. Dec must have been very observant in his ministrations down there.
“It’s nothing,” I said.
“Don’t give me that.”
“Maybe I’m growing a third one. Triple your pleasure.”
“Get dressed,” he commanded. “We’re going to the hospital.”
“I’d rather finish what we started.”
He wasn’t kidding around. “Get. Dressed.”
“I love it when you get pushy, but seriously, I’m not going to Emergency on a Friday night. I’ll book an appointment on Monday.”
He looked like he was about to get all caveman and swing me over his shoulder. He probably could have done it, but I wasn’t going to tempt him.
“Do you promise me?” he asked.
I knew I couldn’t lie or try to finagle my way out of it. “I promise.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.” And I couldn’t help but be a little worried as well.
“What do you want for dinner?” he asked.
Did he think he was getting out of this so easily? “You.”
He laughed. “No, that’s off the menu until we get this sorted.”
I pulled him down onto the bed again, and he was pinned down as I swung my leg over him and ran my hands down his chest. “I know you’ll be careful with me.”
And he was.
AFTER AN uncomfortable night’s sleep, due to both the heat and the concern over my new third ball, I was relieved when Dec informed me that he’d got hold of an air conditioning specialist who would be out that afternoon.
“It’s costing a fucking fortune to get him out here on a Saturday, but I don’t care,” he told me.
I was in the pool, trying to keep my body temperature down. And although I wasn’t going to admit it to Dec, it was also helping soothe the tortured piece of my anatomy. The pain wasn’t subsiding. In fact, it had even gotten a little worse, and the painkillers weren’t as effective.
Dec, of course, knew. How could I ever hide anything from him?
“And I’ve made an appointment for you Monday morning,
first thing.”
“Colour me shocked.”
“Don’t be an arse.” He came down the stairs of the pool and swam over to where I was lightly treading water.
He was looking at me with such worry and love, I couldn’t be upset with him.
“Can I ask you a favour?”
“I’m not cancelling the appointment,” he told me.
“I know I can’t ask that.” I shrugged, trying to appear more settled than I actually felt.
“What’s the favour?”
I took a deep breath. “Will you come with me?”
He steered me over to the seated shelf and gently plonked me on it, making sure only the edge of my butt touched it. “Of course.”
I kissed him. “Thank you.”
“I was coming anyway, even if you asked me or not.”
I thought as much. But I could tell he was glad I had asked.
As if I could have gone without him. Because I was scared now, and I wanted him with me. I didn’t ever want that to change. My usual pessimistic visions were having a field day.
Chapter Five
“I’M NOT going to lie; I’m a bit concerned about this,” Doctor Pelier said while manhandling me.
I was also concerned, as this was the first man who had ever touched my junk since I had been with Declan. It felt weird, uncomfortable, and just plain off. Especially when the man himself was sitting across from the bed I was lying on in the doctor’s office. It was also undignified, with my bits hanging out to be stared at by all and sundry while the voyeurs themselves remained dressed.
I didn’t even want to look at Dec after Doctor Pelier’s comment. It was burdened with negativity that he couldn’t conceal. We were non-officially in the danger zone.
“You think it’s—” Dec couldn’t even say the word.
Pelier motioned to me that I could get up, and as he stripped off his rubber gloves, I tried to tidy myself with what little dignity I had left. To tell the truth, I was still so embarrassed that the weight of his words hadn’t even sunk in.
“Don’t panic yet,” Pelier said, even though he had just told us he was concerned. “It could still be nothing.”