For Mac (30 page)

Branson took a breath and watched Mac, like he expected him to jump up and start yelling. “I love you, Mac. I always have, and I always will. You were my hero when we were younger. And, even when I didn’t show it, I really admired you for trying to raise me by yourself after Mom and Dad died. Looking back, I don’t agree with your methods, and I don’t agree with your morals, but I know you did the best you could. I know you loved me.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Mac, or if you even understand me if you can, but I have finally,
finally
, decided that I need to live for me. For me, Mac! I can’t live for you anymore.” Branson was fighting tears. “Mac, all my life, you’ve made me feel like there’s something wrong with me for being different, for not wanting the same things in life that you thought I should want, for not being attracted to people you thought I should be attracted to.

“I’ve always wanted you to love me, to be proud of me, to be happy with me. I would have liked for you to be proud of who I actually am and not for who you wanted me to be.” Branson finally lost the battle with tears. “Well, you’re not around anymore, Mac. Not really. So all of that trying to please you so I wouldn’t lose you? That was all wasted. I lived for you, but I lost you anyway. I can’t live for you anymore.”

Branson was sobbing now. He had more to say, but he couldn’t stop crying long enough to say anything else. He didn’t know how long he sat there, sobbing, but the next thing he knew, Liam was kneeling in front of him, holding his hands in his own, and calling his name.

“Branny.” Liam was calling more and more insistently.

Finally Branson looked up. He tried to regain his composure but was having a hard time. Liam gathered him into his arms and rocked him until he could speak again.

“Liam?” he whispered, and then he collapsed into Liam’s arms.

They sat like that for the longest time. Finally Liam asked, “Are you okay now?” When he got a nod from Branson, he continued. “I think that was a long time coming… you breaking down like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Branson said quietly.

“No need, Branny,” Liam said into Branson’s hair. “You never need to apologize for your feelings. Never.”

They sat there for a while longer until Branson felt he was able to leave without all the nurses seeing him in that condition. Liam hovered over him the whole way out and all the way back to Branson’s house.

Branson felt embarrassed about Liam having seen him break down yet again, but was more grateful than he could express that Liam accepted him the way he was. No matter what that way entailed.

“S
TAY
WITH
me?” Branson asked as it was getting later. “I know we both work tomorrow, but I don’t really want to be alone.”

“I don’t mind staying up late on a school night,” Liam teased. “You know that.”

“Well.” Branson was suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t mean to watch movies. Can you stay the night?”

“Anything you need, Bran.” Liam followed him into the bedroom.

They lay down on Branson’s king-size bed and snuggled up to watch the movie they had put in the DVD player in the bedroom.

“Ghost?” Liam had asked. “Not our usual fare.”

“One of the sexiest, most romantic stories I’ve ever seen,” Branson had answered. “I need that tonight.”

Liam wrapped himself around Branson, and they watched for a while. When they got to the pottery scene, Branson started to stroke Liam’s arms in time to the motion on the screen. Liam soon joined in, stroking Branson’s chest and arms.

Branson pressed Liam’s hand down, slowly, caressing the arm as he did so. Liam allowed Branson to guide his arm farther and farther down until his hand was gently caressing the front of Branson’s sleep pants.

Branson pushed Liam’s hand firmly against the bulge forming in his pants. At the same time, Branson pressed his buttocks against Liam’s own bulge.

Liam rocked gently against Branson’s backside and ran his hands all over Branson’s front: up and down his chest, into his groin, down his legs as far as he could reach. He finally pushed the waistband of Branson’s sleep pants aside and took hold of his erection gently, oh so gently.

He kept his touch featherlight, and it drove Branson crazy. He shoved back against Liam again and again, trying to get Liam to increase the pace, but it seemed Liam was determined to enjoy this for a long, long time.

“Liam.” Branson breathed his name as he shoved back yet again. “More. Liam, please… more.” Branson’s hands reached back and scrabbled at Liam’s sweatpants, pushing them down as far as he could from such an awkward angle.

Liam knew what Branson wanted, and while he wasn’t sure either of them was ready to go all the way yet, he also wanted more, so he stopped caressing Bran long enough to free his own erection from his sweats and pull down the back of Branson’s sleep pants enough for flesh to meet flesh. Branson exploded in a flurry of motion. He rammed himself back against Liam, faster and faster, wanting something that was just out of reach.

“Liam.” Branson’s voice was frantic.

Liam clutched his arm around Branson, pressing him hard against his chest and groin and kept him there, so he couldn’t get much momentum. “Easy, Bran.” When Branson stilled, Liam began his caress again, all over Branson’s chest and beyond. “Shhhh.” He rocked gently, slowly, against Bran and tried to get him to match the slower pace.

He finally did. At last, they were in sync.

They kept up the slow pace until they were both simmering with want, with need. And then, together, they steadily increased the speed until they gasped each other’s names over the soundtrack of the long forgotten movie.

O
VER
THE
next several weeks, Branson and Liam settled into a new kind of normal. Liam stayed over at Branson’s house more often than not. They spent their days much the same as they always had: work, visits with Mac and with Liam’s family, meals out, and movies in. They also continued their physical relationship, getting a bit more intimate each night until finally, on Valentine’s Day, almost a month after Branson had declared that he wanted more than friendship with Liam and that first awkward night on the couch, and exactly a year since they met, they pushed for the ultimate intimacy.

They had gone to dinner at a fancy French restaurant that Bran had always wanted to try and Liam finally insisted on taking him to, and gone out to see a movie they had both wanted to see. The theater wasn’t packed but wasn’t empty; either way, this time Branson vowed that he wasn’t moving away. They sat close together, holding hands and whispering to each other, sometimes about the movie, but mostly about what they wanted to do to each other when they got home.

Liam gasped a little too loudly when Branson finally moved their joined hands on top of Branson’s burgeoning erection and hid them with the huge tub of popcorn.

When the movie was over, they had to sit in the darkened theater until the end of the lengthy credits so they could stand up without having to make awkward adjustments.

By the time they got to Branson’s house, they didn’t think they could last much longer.

They fumbled to the bed, shedding as many clothes as they could on the way, and fell onto the bed, already rubbing against each other.

“Wait a minute, Bran,” Liam managed to request. “I want to ask you something.”

Branson didn’t want to stop at the moment, but they had long since promised each other that it would never be too far into things for either to ask to stop, so he pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

Liam smiled. “Nothing
wrong
. Just….” He seemed to be still trying to get himself under control enough to speak. “I’d like to ask…. Could I have you inside me tonight? As a Valentine’s gift?”

Branson noticed that Liam seemed worried about Bran’s answer, and Bran had to admit he wasn’t sure how to respond. It sounded fantastic. He could imagine what it might feel like. Nothing like that one disastrous experience he’d had all those years ago, but he was still unsure. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Liam. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Liam chuckled. “You won’t. I’ll talk you through the clinical parts, and you’ll figure out the rest, I’m sure.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” Branson liked the idea more and more as he thought about it, and his body was certainly up for the plan. He could have sworn that he was able to pound nails at that point.

Liam was true to his word and talked Branson through the use of the lube and the stretching, and it was all very frustrating because it seemed to take forever, but Branson was intrigued by it too. He’d never been this loving with another person’s body before, and the fact that it was Liam, that he wanted Bran inside that beautiful, perfect body….

Finally, the time came, and Branson slid inside, gently, slowly. He was still afraid of hurting Liam, but from the sounds Liam was making, Branson was pretty sure he wasn’t in pain, except maybe from the agonizing wait while Branson convinced himself it was okay to move, faster and faster, until he finally forgot all about trying to take it slow, and Liam was urging him to go faster still.

It was over far too soon for Branson, but had it taken forever, it would have still been over too soon. He collapsed on top of Liam, still buried inside him, but when he made a slight move to roll off, Liam insisted he stay.

“You’re fine right where you are,” he whispered. “Don’t you dare move.”

Branson smiled, spread out even more completely across Liam’s pale skin, and dozed off.

T
HE
NEXT
day Branson was called from work almost as soon as he got there to come to Silver Linings for Mac.

By the time he got there, the crisis was over. Mac was still there, but Branson was beside himself. He sank into the chair beside Mac’s bed.

“God, Mac,” he practically sobbed. “You can’t keep doing this to me, brother.”

Liam sat down beside him. “You okay?”

“Liam.” Branson collapsed against him. “This is starting again? I thought we had solved the heart-stopping crap with the new meds.”

When they had first changed the meds, Mac had stopped having grand mal seizures so often. He had never ceased having the petit mal, though. The overall improvement only lasted a month or so, though. Mac had begun having more and more grand mal seizures in the last several weeks and he was now coding pretty often again. But until today, they had gotten his heart restarted pretty easily. Today it took way too long.

“This is starting again.” Branson was almost too weary to cry. “Look at him, Liam.” He took Mac’s hand but was still talking to Liam. “God, he must weigh about ninety pounds. That’s half the weight he started with. He’s got every contracture possible, despite everyone’s best efforts. It seems like he constantly has a fever, either from pneumonia caused by the damned vent or from infected bedsores that not even constant care can prevent. He has seizures all the time, and now his heart is stopping again?” Branson collapsed into Liam’s hold. “What kind of life is this Liam?”

Liam sat with him and rubbed his back until Dr. Brooks came to the door.

“I heard you were here, Mr. Farrell.” Dr. Brooks had resisted all of Branson’s attempts to get him to call Branson by his first name. “Can I speak with you for a minute?”

Branson got up to follow the doctor out of the room, but Liam didn’t appear to know whether or not to go too.

“Could you come with me, Liam?” Branson had an idea of what the doctor might have to say. He had ordered new brain scans for Mac last week but hadn’t had time to go over them with Branson yet. Bran couldn’t let himself believe that the news was good, and he didn’t want to face that kind of news by himself. “I need you there.”

“Then I’ll be there, Bran.” Liam got up confidently and looked at the doctor, almost daring him to deny Branson’s request. He didn’t seem to have anything against it, though, so they followed him into his office.

As soon as they were behind closed doors, the doctor started speaking. “I got the results of Mac’s brain scans.”

Branson listened quietly, willing himself to stay present and actually hear what the doctor had to say. If not for Liam sitting beside him, he was sure he’d drift away, so he didn’t have to deal with this. He knew the doctor’s report wasn’t going to be good.

The doctor continued, “It doesn’t look good. There is little to no brain activity shown. For all intents and purposes, Mac is brain-dead.” The doctor didn’t slow down despite the fact that Branson knew he must have gone completely white. “He hasn’t taken a breath on his own for over a year. His heart is now so erratic that he’s coding at least every couple of weeks. Sometimes more often than that. There’s really nothing more medical science can do for him. We’re basically just keeping his body alive. We might be able to continue to do that for a long time through meds for the seizures and a pacemaker to keep his heart beating, but his mind is gone—probably has been for quite some time, actually.”

Branson was finding it harder and harder to breathe. He knew where this was going, and he couldn’t face it right now, probably would never be able to face it. Liam slung an arm around Branson, but Bran tried not to collapse into the hug. Not yet.

The doctor was still talking. “Mr. Farrell, I have to ask you to start to consider whether you really want your brother to continue indefinitely in this condition.”

Branson couldn’t answer.

“We’ll continue to give him the best care humanly possible for as long as we can, and we’ll fight for him each time his heart stops. But if you decide you would like to… release him….” The doctor paused, finally taking notice of the effect the conversation was having on Branson.

Liam hugged him tighter, and this time Branson did allow himself to collapse against him.

“You’re asking me to pull the plug?” Branson’s voice caught in his throat. “I can’t do that!”

“I would never use that terminology, but yes, disconnecting the ventilator would be one way of allowing this to come to an end for Mac.” The doctor hurried to offer another suggestion. “If you don’t feel comfortable with that idea, a DNR would suffice. A ‘do no resuscitate’ would mean that we would continue every medical intervention that we are currently providing, but if or when he should have another cardiac episode, we would simply not use extraordinary measures to revive him.”