Faith and Fidelity (21 page)

He could do this.

Matt drove them back to Queens, Evan dozing in the front seat of the sedan. Getting dressed and signing paperwork took far more energy than he'd expected; his eyes drooped closed before they got through the Queens-Midtown Tunnel. He was vaguely aware of Matt humming along with a rock station, too low to make out the tune. Relaxed, Evan drifted into a light slumber, grateful to be out of the hospital, grateful to be alive.

“Hey.” A hand was gently stroking his shoulder, calling to him.

Evan's eyes flew open. He blinked for a moment, then recognized his garage door.

He looked over at Matt.

“Hey, we're home. You okay?”

Nodding, Evan moved stiffly to undo his seat belt. His body didn't respond as quickly as usual, he felt like he was moving in quicksand doing the simplest tasks.

“I'll get the bags.”

Matt got out and Evan heard him rooting around in the trunk for Evan's bag and, of course, the world's ugliest fern that Matt had insisted he bring home. The rest of the flowers were sent down to pediatrics.

Evan sighed. The act of unbuckling himself made him wish for a nap. He heard a rap on the glass next to him. Matt was smiling, his hands full.

“You need help?”

Shaking his head, Evan pulled the handle and opened his door. Matt hovered a bit as he swung his legs out and gingerly lifted himself out of the car. He leaned against the side of the car to catch his breath.

Matt shifted the bags to one hand, using the other to clasp Evan's forearm.

“Let's get you into the house, okay? You can lie down.”

“Yeah.”

Slowly the two men walked to the house, Evan shuffling his lead-weight body toward the front door. He leaned against Matt out of sheer desperation— his legs just weren't working properly.

A little fumbling and Matt got the door open. Evan watched him dumbly, thinking,
Shouldn't I be letting him in? I live here, don't I?

Dropping the bags in the foyer, Matt's arms immediately encircled Evan's body and pulled him closer.

Evan sagged. Yeah, that felt good.

The door shut behind them— Matt probably kicked it closed, he thought, letting himself be led to the couch.

In five seconds flat, Evan found himself lying down, his shoes and jacket off, a warm blanket thrown over him.

“Pillows?” asked Matt. “Something to drink?”

Evan nodded.

With that sparkling smile that turned Evan to mush, Matt hurried off to play nursemaid.

Evan didn't see him come back, he was already asleep.

Matt puttered around the house, trying to be quiet while Evan slept. They'd been back at the house for almost five hours— the sun was down, the December wind rattling the windows. He straightened what little was out of place. Thought about dinner (Soup? Wasn't that what you fed sick people? Did injured count as sick?), thought about the past week and a half and got the shakes.

If he stopped to think...
really
think, Matt surmised he would probably need to drink his way through a fully stocked bar. The whole thing with Evan (Relationship. Love. That thing.). Vic and Helena knowing. The shooting.

Matt sighed. He needed to talk to someone. Vic obviously wasn't that person. Abe— do you call your ex-partner out of the blue and go,
Hey. How are you? Wanna have lunch ‘cause I might be gay or something and need an objective opinion about what the hell is going on ‘cause I'm in love with a guy
? Leaving only one person on Matt's ever-shortening list of friends.

Liz.

Yeah, he really needed to talk to Liz. Level-headed, straight-shooting Liz who Matt knew he loved a little more than a friend but not as much as a lover. He would call her in the morning because if there was anyone who could help him make heads or tails of this, it was her.

He heard a rustling on the couch and walked into the living room to check on Evan.

“Hi.”

Evan blinked, trying to adjust his eyes in the darkened room. The only light was coming from the kitchen behind Matt.

“Hi. What time is it?”

“Almost six. You feel up to dinner?”

Evan slowly stretched his body, moving each limb and muscle as if it were made of glass. The pain pills had come and gone, he was feeling everything.

“Yeah,” he gasped. “Could you... would you mind... ”

“Pain pills?”

“Christ, yes.”

Matt returned a few seconds later with a bottle of cool water and his pills. Evan smiled gratefully, swallowing the two huge capsules, praying they worked quickly. He gulped the water down, finishing half the bottle before he fell back against the pillows.

“Thanks.”

Matt sat on the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward on his knees.

“How are you doing?”

Evan shrugged. “Okay. Sleeping helps. I'm just stiff.”

“Would upstairs be more comfortable?”

In a sudden flash, Evan saw the bed upstairs, with Sherri snuggled in his arms. And then with Matt, holding him that first night when everything had started with them.

Shit.

“Nah. I'll just stay here.”

Matt nodded, reaching out his hand to touch Evan's face. “I'll go get you soup. Anything else?”

“No. That's fine. Thanks, Matt.” He meant that. He wanted to convey that in his words.

Matt got the message. He leaned forward, pressing his fingers firmly against Evan's jaw.

“Jesus I was worried about you,” he whispered. “I was so scared... ”

“Shhh... ” Evan said. “I'm fine... ”

He didn't get the rest of it out because suddenly Matt's mouth took his, hot and a little desperate. The room swam a bit around his head as he tasted the fear. And the love.

It had been more than a week since they'd really touched like this. In the hospital they were always waiting for the door to open. But here... here they were alone.

Matt dropped to his knees, leaning over Evan's body on the couch. It gave them both the leverage they craved— Evan's arms went slowly around Matt's neck and shoulders. Matt's hands gently cradled his face.

Nice, so nice. Tongues softly stroking lips, tasting. Getting hungrier.

Evan came up for air first, twisting his head to the side, gasping in a lungful of air as Matt moved to bite and suck on his neck.

Yeah. Very nice.

A hot wave washed over Evan's body, easing every ache and pain he could remember. He wasn't sure he could go any further than this, but while it lasted...

Matt deepened his demanding kisses, moving again, running his tongue under the edge of Evan's T-shirt. Evan shivered, arched under the pleasure, and then crashed with a burst of pain.

Matt felt Evan tense up slightly in his arms and suddenly remembered why Evan was lying on the couch.

He pulled back to stare into his lover's face. “Jesus, I'm sorry... ”

Evan shook his head. “It's okay... ”

“No, it's not! I got fucking carried away— I'm sorry. Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” Evan reached up to touch Matt's jaw. His touch felt hot... but tentative. “I wish... ” That bright embarrassed flush worked its way across his face. “I guess the spirit is willing, but the body still feels like shit.”

Matt smiled. “Sorry.”

“Stop.” The fingers moved down the side of his face, circling Matt's lips. “Give me a little recoup time and talk to me in the morning.”

“Sounds good to me,” Matt said, a little breathless. “The talking part.”

Evan's hand seemed obsessed with the face in front of him. Matt leaned in, mesmerized by the slow movements feather-light on his face.

“I missed you,” Evan murmured.

“I'm here now.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. I'm not going anywhere.” Matt felt Evan shiver. The words slipped out, soft and reverent.

Evan nodded slowly, his fingers stalled on Matt's forehead.

They stayed that way for a seemingly endless stretch of time... until Evan's hand dropped and he smiled.

“I think you promised soup... ”

Matt blinked a few times, coming back down to earth. “Right... yeah... ”

“It'll help my recovery process I'm sure.”

Laughing, Matt leaned back on his haunches. “Blackmail. Nice... very nice, Detective.”

They spent another few minutes smiling, their hands touching lightly.

Eventually Matt forced himself to stand, giving Evan's hand a gentle squeeze before letting it go. “Soup, rest, recuperating.”

“Right.”

They ate soup, they watched some TV— sports recap program after sports recap program— until the eleven o'clock news started. Evan lay on the sofa, his legs across Matt's lap, their hands loosely intertwined under the blanket. They didn't speak— they didn't have to, Matt thought randomly. This silence was comforting, easy. Their friendship still existed.

Even with the... new developments.

Matt watched Evan drift off yet again, waking with little jerks every few moments.

“Hey, man,” he called softly. “Why don't you go upstairs to bed?”

Evan came totally awake with a start. “What?”

“Why don't you go upstairs? It's late and you had a big day.”

“I'm going to sleep down here.”

“Evan... ”

“I'm fine.” His tone was sleepy but stubborn. “This is fine. I'd rather stay down here. You can sleep upstairs.”

Matt opened his mouth to protest but he remembered the terrible nightmares that had awoken Evan that first night...

He decided not to push it.

“Sure, man. Whatever you want. I'm going to head up then. If you need anything, just holler. I'll hear you.”

Tenderly he lifted Evan's legs and got up, rearranging the blanket that covered him. Evan wasn't looking at him, he'd burrowed down into the pillows, his face half-hidden by the blanket.

“I'll be fine. Those pills knock me out.”

“Right.” Matt leaned down. Pressed a kiss on Evan's forehead. “But I'll leave the door open, okay?”

Evan nodded. Matt stood and stared down at him. He still wouldn't look him in the eye.

“Good night.”

“Night.” The blanket muffled the soft answer.

Matt climbed the stairs slowly and alone.

Matt trudged up the stairs, not looking back. He felt a heavy weight pressing against his chest. The upstairs hallway was dark and quiet. He'd been staying in Evan's bedroom since that first night, feeling both awkward and comforted by the big queen bed and dark oak furniture. When Evan had been in the hospital, Matt would wait until he could barely keep his eyes open before dragging himself upstairs to sleep. He didn't want to lie in the dark in “their room”... in “their bed” and think about... them.

Quickly, he stripped down to his shorts and pulled out a T-shirt from his overnight bag. Before he'd gone to pick Evan up from the hospital he'd changed the sheets and fixed the bed, neatened up as much as he could, under the apparent delusion that they would be spending the night up here. Idiot. Lying there in the dark, Matt thought about Evan downstairs, alone. He thought about how deftly Evan had dodged spending the night upstairs with Matt. That was understandable he supposed— not feeling comfortable about sleeping in his old room with his new... whatever.

And maybe he didn't feel up to having company all night— maybe that was why he didn't ask Matt to stay with him. But all the logic in the world wasn't quite working right this second. What hurt the most, what created that terrible pressure against Matt's chest, was the blossoming fear that he wanted this way more than Evan did.

Evan lay on the couch, staring into the darkness of the living room. He listened to Matt moving around upstairs and felt like shit. The sounds eventually tapered off and soon the house settled into silence. Evan didn't fall asleep for a long time, too busy replaying a thousand scenes in his head.

It was Sherri first, from the prom to cooking breakfast, from tucking one of the kids into bed to rolling over and smiling at him so beautifully he thought his heart would break. And then he was back in the bar, sitting across from Matt in those first days, crying and complaining and falling in love even though he didn't know it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to still the images. He didn't want to see himself in the arms of either one of them. Or their eyes. Why was it so hard to let himself go, to act on what he felt? Why couldn't he go upstairs— or even have asked Matt to stay?

Not one of his visions could give him an answer.

He finally fell asleep hours later, with his questions still lingering.

Matt crept downstairs at eight-thirty, in desperate need of coffee. He hoped Evan was sleeping but a quick glance to the couch proved him wrong. It was empty. “Hey,” called a voice from the kitchen. Evan was sitting on a kitchen stool, looking pale but smiling. Matt walked over to the full pot of coffee sitting in the coffee maker.

“This is a wonderful thing.”

“I thought you might appreciate it.”

“What are you doing up so early?”

“Couldn't sleep anymore.” Evan didn't say anything else. He toyed idly with the glass of water in front of him.

“You take your pain pills?

“Yes, Dad.”

Matt laughed, taking his mug of coffee to lean on the counter next to Evan.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Evan leaned over and kissed him. Hard.

Matt pulled away and crooked an eyebrow at him. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” It came out a little fiercely. Evan pressed his shoulder against Matt's. “Much.”

Matt wanted to believe that this was renewed passion but it smelled a bit like guilt and he wasn't interested in that. Tenderly, he kissed Evan, making it slow and soft, not inciting anything. When he pulled away, Evan could barely meet his gaze.

Right.

“Is there anything you need to get done today? Laundry or phone calls or anything? I should go out food shopping... ” Matt walked over to the fridge, placing his cup on the top while he looked inside. “And I wanted to call my friend Liz, maybe drive out to see her.” He kept his tone neutral. It hurt.

Evan blinked a few times, clearly a bit unsettled by the rapid change in mood.