Read Don't Read in the Closet: Volume Four Online
Authors: Various Authors
Tags: #Don't Read in the Closet, #mm romance, #gay
reason. He stumbled, and tried to grab hold of the railing, but he
missed. His feet were clumsy, too big, somehow, and he tripped again,
but this time there was no floor where he tried to land. He felt himself
leaning, falling, and he felt a couple hard thuds on the way down the
stairs, and then there was nothing.
****
of a hospital. He tried to open his eyes, but they didn’t seem to want
to cooperate. He tried again, and got a little success, but the stab of
pain produced by the light that made it through his narrowed lids
made him wonder why he’d bothered.
“Stay still, Cody. You’re okay.”
Cody let himself relax. Tristan was there. Tristan would take care
of him. He decided to keep his eyes shut a while longer, and drifted
off to sleep.
When he woke up, there was action in the room. Someone was
touching him, doing something with his arm, and then, damn it! There
was a bright light being shone into his over-sensitive eyes. He tried to
pull his head away, and managed to get an arm half-way up to his face
before it was caught by gentle, firm hands. “Let her see you, Cody.
She’s got to make sure you’re okay.”
“It hurts,” Cody managed, but he let Tristan lower his arm back to
rest on the bed.
“I know. And she knows. She won’t do more than she has to.
Right?”
“Right,” the woman agreed. Cody let his eyes open a little, and he
saw a thin black face looking at him kindly. “I just need to run a
couple more tests. Okay?”
Cody mumbled something that he assumed would be taken for
agreement, then looked over toward Tristan. “What happened?”
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“You don’t remember?” Tristan was watching him pretty closely.
“Your neighbor saw the whole thing. She said Seth kneed you in the
face, and then you fell down the stairs.”
Cody fought to remember. “We were at the bar…”
“Yeah. And I pissed him off, and he took it out on you.”
That didn’t sound quite right. Cody frowned, and tried to
remember more. “He was jealous…”
“He’s a control freak,” Tristan corrected. “There was nothing to
be jealous about, he just didn’t like you talking to anyone but him.”
“You said — you said we could be a couple. That’s something to
be jealous about.”
Tristan looked like he’d been hoping Cody had forgotten that part
of the exchange, but then he shook his head. “But you said no. If he
wanted to fight me for moving in on his boy, that’d be one thing. But
you said no, Cody. You didn’t give — well, I don’t care if you’d
fucked me right there in the bar, he wouldn’t have had a right to do
this to you. But he didn’t even have any good reason to be angry.”
The doctor gave Tristan a look. “Probably this conversation can
wait. And the police still want a statement; I think they’d prefer that
you not speak to him about the events until they’ve taken care of
that.”
“The police?” Cody wasn’t sure that was a good idea.
But Tristan’s nod was emphatic. “Fuck yeah, the police. They’re
going to charge the son-of-a-bitch with assault, at least. I think they
should try for attempted murder.” His fingers tightened around
Cody’s. “You could have died.” He pushed himself to his feet quickly.
“I promised your parents I’d call as soon as there was a change.
They’re trying to decide whether to fly back from Greece.”
“No,” Cody protested. “They’ve been waiting for this vacation for
so long…”
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“Yeah, well, I’ll try to calm them down. I’ll maybe make the first
part of the call from outside, and then step back in and let you talk to
them for a second?”
Cody nodded weakly. He could hold himself together long enough
to convince his parents.
“And I’ll tell them that I’ll take you to my place for a couple
days? The hospital isn’t going to let you be alone, and if you’re at my
place I can still work, and then pop up to check on you.”
It sounded like Tristan had it all figured out, and Cody just
nodded. He wasn’t going to fight anything, not for quite a while.
****
“You slept seventeen hours yesterday.
Seventeen hours
. That’s not
the sign of a healthy body. Not unless you’re a cat.” Tristan leaned in
a little closer, obviously not at all worried about Cody’s bad temper.
“Are you a cat? Is yoo a pwetty puddy tat? Is yoo?”
“There’s something really wrong with your brain, Tristan. I’m
serious — you should get it checked out. Next time they send me for
an MRI, you should go instead.”
“An MRI, or a
CAT
scan? Did you get it? Did you? Did you catch
my clever play on words, yoo widdle puddy tat?”
“I’m going to kill you soon.”
“Wow, catty.” Tristan stood up. “When you get your strength
back, you can kill me. It’ll be fun. In the meantime, you’re a fucking
invalid. So kick your feet back up on that couch and let me tuck you
in, and then I’ll go get us some food. Probably a burger for me, and
some blancmange for you.”
“Some what? What do you think I’m eating?”
“Blancmange. I don’t really know what it is — it’s for sick people,
I think. It’s from a book.”
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“What book?”
“I don’t know — probably something with cats.” Tristan seemed
ready to drop the subject. “I’ll be back in a bit, okay? You’ve got the
TV remote? And your phone? And there’s the stuff that I picked up
from school for you — I don’t know, maybe you can use that if you
need some help getting to sleep. I think you’ve only slept ten hours or
so today, so you’ve got some catching up to do.”
“Go away, Tristan.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Cody was lonely before the apartment door was fully closed. He’d
been staying with Tristan for three days, and, excessive sleeping
aside, he was pretty much better. The rainbow of bruises on his face
was fading to mottled green and yellow, and his ribs — well, they were
still broken, as was his wrist, but they were manageable, at least. The
concussion was the worst of it, really, and it was nothing more than an
occasional headache, now. It was time to go home. Time to declare
himself well and hoist his ass off Tristan’s lumpy couch.
But, damn, he didn’t want to. The time he’d been spending with
Tristan was like guzzling water after a week in the desert. He’d
needed
it. It was a mistake, of course, a tragic slide back from the
independence he’d been working toward, but he just couldn’t make
himself care. He was an addict. Maybe he’d try to kick the habit
again, but not until he was stronger.
With that somewhat comforting thought, he dozed off. When he
woke up, the sun’s light had shifted across the living room floor, and
Tristan was coming back into the room with a paper bag in his arm.
“You want juice, or pop? Or milk… I could put it in a saucer, if you
want.”
“I want a beer, asshole.”
“We’ve been through that. No alcohol for you — doctor’s orders.”
Tristan walked into the kitchen and rooted around for a while, then
Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 723
came back with two plates, the bag of food, and two cans of Coke.
“Sit up, and I’ll put the plate on your lap.”
“Fuck off, Tristan, I can hold my own food.”
“Okay, seriously, you think it makes you seem
healthier
to eat
your lunch lying down? Really?”
Cody sighed and pushed himself to a sitting position, and Tristan
put the plate on the coffee table in front of him. Cody ate a little while
Tristan found a spot in the far armchair, which was weird, actually,
because there was no table over there for him to rest his food on. He
looked totally awkward, trying to balance his food on his knees while
holding the can of pop…
“Tristan, what happened to your knuckles?”
Tristan glanced down at his hand, then turned it around and self-
consciously rubbed it on his jeans. “I don’t know…”
“Don’t be an idiot. What happened to your knuckles? Tristan, did
you get in a fight?” It didn’t make sense, but it was the closest thing to
logical that Cody could find. “At one o’clock on a Thursday
afternoon, you got in a fight?”
Tristan turned to look at Cody, his face a mix of defiance and
anxiety. “I fucked up, okay? It wasn’t the plan. I just — what the fuck
was he doing, coming to my bar? He had to know I’d be there. And I
tried to walk away, but he made some smart-ass comment, and… I
don’t know. I just lost it.”
“Wait, who are you even talking about? Is this… did you fight
Seth
?”
Tristan’s lack of denial was confirmation enough. “It shouldn’t
screw things up for you, right? I mean, it’s two separate things. You
talked to the cops, and they’re handling it. If he calls the cops, that’s
just me and him, it shouldn’t have anything to do with your charges,
right?”
Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 724
Cody really didn’t think that was what they needed to be talking
about. “I guess. Yeah, whatever, that’s fine. But what are you doing,
getting in a fight with him? Jesus, Tristan, we’re a little old for bar
fights, aren’t we?”
Tristan’s look was quick, as if he was surprised by Cody’s words.
He didn’t say anything for a second, then shook his head. “Bad
timing,” he muttered, as if talking to himself, but then he looked Cody
in the eye. “When you were in the hospital, I went to visit my
Grandpa.”
“Yeah?” It was a strange shift in the conversation, but Cody had
always liked Pastor Dan. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s good. I, uh — I talked to him a bit. You know, about, like —
you and me.”
“Jesus, Tristan, he’s a minister! I don’t think he needs to hear
about your casual sex!”
Tristan looked almost hurt. “That’s not the part I talked to him
about. I told him I had a friend who wanted to stop fooling around,
and wanted to be in a relationship. I told him I’d said I might be
interested, but that you’d shut me down. I said you hadn’t believed
that I was serious.”
“Yeah?” Cody had no idea where this was going. “And what’d he
say?”
“He asked me if I was. If I was serious. And I said…” Tristan
glanced at his bruised knuckles, then back up to Cody. “I said I
thought maybe I was. But I said you were my best friend, and I really
didn’t want to fuck that up.”
“Tristan…” Cody didn’t know what he wanted to say, exactly, and
when he didn’t continue, Tristan smiled gently.
“He said I needed to be careful; he said friendship is a beautiful
thing, and it needs to be cherished. But…” Tristan’s smile turned wry.
“He also said maybe it was time for me to stop sleeping with every
pretty boy I saw.”
Don’t Read in the Closet – volume four 725
“Jesus, Tristan. He’s a
minister
.”
“Well,
he
said it, not me. I can’t help what
he
says.” Tristan stood
up and crossed to the bookshelf, and pulled out a Bible that Cody
hadn’t seen before. “He told me to dig this out… it’s my confirmation
Bible. I told him I wasn’t really into the whole religion thing, and he
told me to just read one verse. He wrote down the reference for me.”
This was going somewhere strange. Cody had always seen Tristan
be respectful of his grandfather’s beliefs, but he’d never seen him take
any interest in them. Still, Cody wanted to be supportive. “So, what’s
the verse?”
Tristan gave Cody a quick look to be sure he was being sincere,
then pulled the ribbon bookmark up and found his place. “When I was
a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a
child.” Tristan glanced up, then back to his reading. “But when I
became a man, I put away childish things.” He clapped the book shut
and put it back on the shelf. “That’s it. That’s all he said. Well, he said
some stuff about how I needed to help my mom with the garden, but I