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Trent checked for his cellphone before exiting his truck. With a quick glance at the black clouds gathering overhead, he made a quick dash for the hospital entrance closest to where he had parked. The forecast had called for isolated thunderstorms and obviously one such storm was about to unleash its fury on the Baton Rouge General Medical Center.
Grinning with victory, he made it inside the hospital just as the heavens opened up. He stood for a moment to catch his breath and watch the various visitors and hospital personnel making the wild dash to and from their cars. Screams of surprise filled the air as those without umbrellas got caught in the drenching rain.
Lifting a hand in acknowledgement to the volunteer sitting at the information desk across from the elevators, he made the decision to take the stairs instead. He needed all the exercise he could get now that he was finished with high school. In fact, he made a mental note to speak with Dan about designing a daily work-out regimen for him. No way in hell was he going to jeopardize his relationship with Blaine by letting his body go to waste. He knew his boyfriend loved his muscles and if that’s what it took to keep Blaine happy and in love with him then he’d work out every day for the rest of his life.
Exiting the stairwell onto the fourth floor of Tower B, he stopped at the central nurse’s station and looked for the nurse that seemed to be on duty every time he came to the hospital. Locating the older woman, he waited for her to finish her conversation with one of her colleagues before approaching.
“Hey, Mrs. Chaney! How’s your day going?”
The tall, red-haired nurse collected a chart and stethoscope before waving him down the hallway. “Let’s just say I’ll be in a much better mood when 7pm rolls around.” She stopped outside the entrance to a patient room whose door bore a sign that indicated the person inside was in isolation. Tapping a hand to the supply cart beside the door, she instructed, “Same routine as before. Wash your hands thoroughly and then put on the gown, gloves and mask. And Trent?”
He hooked the surgical mask on his left ear before answering, “Yes?”
“Don’t stay too long, okay? Austin needs his rest more than he needs company. You understand?”
He stared hard at the older woman and immediately knew what she was hinting at from the concerned expression on her face. A tightness grabbed hold of his chest as moisture flooded his eyes. “That bad?”
His gaze was met square on.
“You might want to visit a bit more often this week if you can. And make sure you encourage Austin’s boyfriend to do so also. I don’t think he understands the gravity of the situation.” She glanced at the closed door and sighed. “Or maybe he does and he just can’t deal with it.”
Trent acknowledged the hand that gripped his arm with a mumbled ‘thanks.’ Donning the required gown and gloves, he finished hooking the surgical mask into place before shouldering his way into the room. He waited a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness before making his way over to the hospital bed.
“Hey, Austin.”
He gently tapped his fist on the nearest siderail before looking at the man standing at the window gazing out at the rain. “Mr. Marsh? How’s he’s doing?”
“He’s right here, you jerkwad, and still quite alive despite everything.”
The indignant, albeit, whisper-soft voice pulled his attention back to the teenager lying in hospital bed.
“Takes one to know one,” he replied with a grin he hoped was reflected in his eyes and his voice.
Austin Marsh smiled back at him, his features more wasted than the last time he’d seen him. It was like looking at a living skeleton. His friend was now hooked up to oxygen and even that didn’t seem to help him breathe all that well. A new IV line was connected to the vein in his neck and it fed him an IV solution the color of a ripe banana.
Swallowing hard, he blinked back the tears before moving even closer to the bed. “How’s it hanging, Xavier?”
As long as he could remember Austin’s nickname had been Xavier. As was the character from the X-Men universe, Austin was dependent on a wheelchair for mobility. At the age of 12, an 18 wheeler had broadsided his parent’s car, instantly killing his mother and father and leaving him a quadriplegic for the remainder of his life. Shortly after the accident Austin had moved from San Antonio, Texas to live with his uncle and aunt in Walker, Louisiana. The two of them met when Austin began attending Walker Junior High and had been friends ever since.
“Doc Roberts doesn’t seem to think I’m gonna make it through the week.”
“Well, that certainly sucks.”
His friend choked on his laughter. Springing into well-rehearsed action, he, along with Austin’s uncle, rushed to his aid, elevating the head of the bed higher and holding him upright until he could catch his breath.
“You’re . . . you’re kill . . . killing me, Trent,” Austin gasped.
“Not literally, I hope.”
He sighed with relief when his friend leaned back on his pillows, his labored breathing easing by the second.
“My body is doing that all on its own, thank you very much,” Austin answered after several minutes. “Doesn’t need any help from the peanut gallery.”
Trent couldn’t help but grin; his friend was in rare form today.
“Did you get the email I sent you?” he asked.
Austin glanced over at his uncle. “Isn’t about time you go find some fresh coffee?”
Catching the rather unsubtle hint, David Marsh stretched his arms over his head before leaning down to kiss his nephew on the forehead. “You want anything?”
Austin winked at him before answering his uncle with a question. “What day is it?”
“Uh, Thursday?”
“Yep,” Austin agreed. “And you know what that means?”
“Nachos?” Thursday was Nacho Day in the hospital’s coffee/sandwich shop.
Austin grinned. “Yeah, nachos. Loaded please.”
“Sure thing, kid.”
Trent watched the older man leave the room knowing full well he would return with a serving of nachos that would more than likely go untouched.
As soon as the door to the room closed shut, Austin indicated his specialized laptop resting on the overbed table.
“Fire it up, Trent. I’ve made some corrections and added a few suggestions for the section at the end.”
Bringing the laptop out of sleep mode, he shifted it so that both he and Austin could see the screen. “Do you think it’s good enough to submit?”
“Fuck yeah,” Austin enthused. “If this story doesn’t win the contest, I’ll eat this damn pamper they just put on me.”
The image that came to mind had Trent chuckling but his laughter was cut short when he saw the laptop’s screen background shift from a picture of the New Orleans Saints quarterback, Drew Brees to the picture of a person he had major concerns about.
Austin’s boyfriend, Chris Bowman.
“Has Chris been by today?” he asked.
The smile on Austin’s face faltered. “Yeah,” the teenager answered. “He spent most of the morning with me.”
Austin turned and looked him straight in the eye. “You’ll be there for him after I’m gone, right?”
Unable to hold his friend’s gaze, he glanced over at the window and noted the rain had stopped. The subject of Austin’s death was not something he wanted to discuss.
“Trent, promise me you’ll help Chris through this. He’s a mess now. I can only imagine what he’ll be like once I’m dead and buried.”
“Would you stop that?!” Clenching his fists, he moved completely away from the bed and stood staring up at the wall-mounted flatscreen TV.
“Stop what?” Austin angrily asked. “Stop dying? Stop talking about my death?” The teenager choked back a sob. “Find me a last minute miracle and I’ll be more than happy to do so. Otherwise, grow some cojones and deal with it, both you AND Chris.”
Silence reigned as Austin struggled to breathe.
Approaching the bed, Trent placed a hand over his friend’s heart. “I’ll be there for Chris; I promise.”
Austin’s grimace of frustration transformed itself into a smile of gratitude and suddenly the mood of despair dissipated.
He pointed at the laptop. “Okay, Xavier, show me your suggestions for the end. Do you think I should add more sex? Was there enough fucking?”
“Trent,” Austin snorted, “the damn thing was so hot . . . hell, if my pecker was working, it would have been pointing straight at the ceiling.”
Their combined laughter greeted David Marsh when he returned an hour later, nachos in hand.
+++++++
Trent gripped the leash so tight his hand hurt. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he stared down at the German Shepard sitting beside him. Gimli had been Austin’s special needs dog and would now come to live with him and his dad per his friend’s dying request.
“You can let him go, Trent. It’s okay.”
Following his father’s instruction, he released Gimli from his leash and watched as the dog made its way to the grave and laid down on the freshly shaped mound of dirt.
Gimli had been well-behaved during the entire funeral and also afterwards at the gathering at the Marsh’s house. It wasn’t until he and his dad were in the truck heading home that the dog began to whine incessantly. Looking out the window, he immediately understood the reason for the dog’s behavior. They were passing the cemetery where Austin lay buried.
“Did you speak to Chris after the funeral?” his father asked.
He glanced at the man and shook his head. “Chris disappeared the second the priest said ‘Amen.’ I tried talking to him before we left for the cemetery but he didn’t have anything to say. He’s really angry, Dad. Angry at Austin, angry at God, angry at everybody really.”
“Can you blame him? From what Mr. Marsh told me, Chris and Austin had been together longer than you and Blaine. And Austin dying from something as simple as the flu has to be not only confusing as hell for him but also completely devastating. He’s probably going to be angry for a while.”
Returning his attention to the grieving canine, Trent felt the tears well up once again. “I wish Blaine was here. He’d know what to do.”
His father’s arms circled his chest from behind. “You’re doing just fine, son. Just be there for the boy. Let him know he’s not alone in this and that you’re willing to talk whenever he’s ready.”
The two of them stood at the grave until darkness began to fall. Reluctantly, he knelt beside Gimli and hooked the leash to the dog’s collar. He scratched the area behind Gimli’s ears before saying, “Time to go home, boy.” Surprisingly the dog got to his feet and followed him and his dad to the vehicle.
“Want to pick something up for supper?”
Shoving the dog off the truck seat and onto the floorboard, he buckled his seatbelt before answering. “Sure. How ‘about stopping at Sonic? A burger and milkshake sounds good.” He looked down at his new companion and asked, “How ‘bout a burger and some fries, Gimli?” The German Shepard enthusiastically barked his answer.
Trent grinned at his father. “Drive on, James! The two of us be hungry!”
+++++++
“Gimli! Let go!”
He was wrestling for ownership of tomorrow’s jeans when his laptop dinged. Making a final effort, he snatched the jeans away from the dog and tossed them onto the dresser.
“Tomorrow you and I are going to PetSmart. Somebody here needs a few chew toys.”
A second ding sounded and he quickly clicked on Blaine’s Skype icon. His boyfriend’s face filled the screen.
“Budman!”
Trent threw himself on the bed and couldn’t help but laugh when Gimli joined him, a pair of socks hanging from his mouth. “Gimme those!”
The second his socks were rescued, he trapped the dog against his side and instructed, “Smile for the camera, Gimli!” The canine slathered his face instead of facing toward the laptop.
“Should I be jealous?”
Grinning at the laptop, he answered, “Nope! You’re still my number one boyfriend.” Placing his canine hostage in a gentle chokehold, he directed Gimli’s head to the camera. “Budman, Gimli. Gimli, meet the best boyfriend in the entire universe!”
Gimli didn’t seem to be impressed with the introduction and quickly wiggled his way free. He was out the door with a discarded baseball glove in his mouth before his new owner could move.
“Hang on, Budman. That little shit’s got my glove.”
Returning to his bedroom a moment later with glove in hand, he resumed his spot on the bed and smiled at his boyfriend. His grin slipped from his face when he caught sight of the dark circles under Blaine’s eyes. Looking closer, he noticed signs of stress in his boyfriend’s features.
“You look like shit. What’s up?”
A ragged sigh came over the speakers and he watched as Blaine used both hands to scrub at his stubble-covered face.
“It’s been a rough couple of weeks. Finals, my job, the upcoming tournament*.”
His arms tensed with the need to grab hold of his boyfriend and hug him until he couldn’t breathe. “I hear ya. This week hasn’t exactly been the best of times for me either.”
“Trent, I need . . .”
“Ditto, I need you, too. It was fucking rough what with Austin dying this week. I don’t think it would have been so bad if you had been here with me.”
He swiped at the tears escaping down his cheeks. “Today was especially shitty. I don’t do so good at funerals as you well know.”
Closing his eyes, he recalled his mother’s funeral and the way he’d hidden out in their treehouse with Blaine for the majority of the day. He’d selfishly left his dad to deal with his mom’s relatives and friends. And then when the Matthews had laid little Richard to rest, his guilt over the infant’s death along with the memory of his mother’s funeral had driven him to abandon his boyfriend and once again, seek refuge in their treehouse. Of course, Blaine had found him and the two of them had spent the remaining hours of the day wrapped up in each other’s arms grieving.
If it hadn’t been for Gimli, he would’ve done the same thing today . . . retreated to a shadow-filled corner of their treehouse and cried his heart out. The dog’s presence had somehow eased the sadness he was feeling and now with Blaine here talking to him, maybe he’d make it through the day without losing the tenuous grip he had on his emotions.
“Trent, there’s something I need . . .”
Gimli’s reappearance distracted him from the conversation for a second and he snapped his fingers several times, encouraging the dog to climb up on the bed. “Do you think we could change the subject to something a little bit more upbeat? Grabbing a pillow, he tucked it under his chest and settled in for a long chat. “I see you guys are gonna open against Kentucky.”
He swore he heard Blaine mutter a soft ‘fuck’ and when he glanced across the room at the laptop he saw his boyfriend running a hand through his hair and frowning. “Blaine?”
“Yeah. Kentucky. Nelson’s gonna pitch that one.”
“Ya’ll are ranked number five, right?”
Blaine disappeared from view and when he returned he was holding what was obviously a cold can of Coke to his forehead. Beads of condensation trickled down the can and dropped off, staining the Crimson Tide polo shirt his boyfriend was wearing.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t gloat over the fact that LSU is the number two seed,” Blaine grouched.
He grinned at his boyfriend. “What can I say? Coach Mainieri’s** got a pretty good team this year. I bet we take the SEC title, maybe even Regionals. Ah, hell, let’s put it all on the line and bet LSU goes all the way to Omaha.***”
“I’ll take that bet.” Blaine took a long swallow of his Coke. “If I win and LSU doesn’t make it to Omaha, you owe me a night out on the town . . . dinner, dancing, the works.” His boyfriend waggled his eyebrows. “And you know what I mean by the works, don’t’cha?”
“I’ll make sure and buy extra lube and condoms next time I go to the store.” Checking the calendar posted on the wall behind his desk, he calculated the number of paychecks he’d have deposited in the bank by June. “You’re on, Budman! What with my new job working for Kenney and the part-time work I put in for your Gramps, I should be rolling in dough.”
He returned his gaze to the laptop and saw Blaine shuffling through what appeared to be a stack of 8x12 glossy photos. “And if I win? What do I get?”
Frowning with disgust, his boyfriend threw the photos down on the bed beside him and once again, stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Anything you want, Trent.”
Blaine sounded not only exhausted but also worried. Like his boyfriend had said earlier, things must really be tough for him at school. Time to lighten the mood.
“If I win, I want you and me to go down to the Gulf and stay at your grandparent’s condo. I want to lay on that private beach of their’s butt-naked with your dick stuffed up my ass. If I win, you will fuck me on every flat surface in that place.”
The groan that greeted his demand eased the grip of concern that had tightened around his heart. He searched Blaine’s face. There was the playful grin he needed to see, the twinkle of devilment in the blue eyes he loved so much.
“You’re on,” his boyfriend answered.
“I love you, Budman.”
“Same here, babe.”
Blaine’s attention tracked to the left and his grin widened into laughter. “I have a feeling you’ll be picking up more than just lube and condoms when you go to the store.”
“Huh?”
His boyfriend pointed at him or rather pointed at where Gimli was lying on the bed beside him chewing on . . .
“Oh for fuck’s sake, GIVE ME THAT RIGHT NOW!!!!”
Gimli jumped off the bed and charged down the hallway, proudly displaying his newly acquired chew toy for all to see.
A midnight black, eight inch long, ribbed dildo.
Laughter echoed throughout the room and for a brief second Trent swore he heard Austin’s voice join in with Blaine’s. He grinned.
His friend was now laughing along with the angels.
To be continued . . .
*2008 SEC =Southeastern Conference Baseball Tournament
**Coach Mainieri – Head Coach of LSU Baseball 2007-present
***Omaha, Nebraska is the site of the College World Series. LSU did indeed win the 2008 SEC Tournament, the NCAA Regionals and the NCAA Super Regionals, thus qualifying them for the College World Series. Unfortunately, they did not make it past the second round. Alabama's Crimson Tide baseball team ended their season after losing to the East Carolina Pirates during the NCAA Regionals. Trent won the bet!