Chapter Text
Walking into the hospital has become something Nahele looks forward to. The day shift guard always smiles and nods at him when he walks into the main building. He’s been told by many elderly women that he’s very handsome and a sweet young boy. The nurses on the recovery floor know him by name now and greet him all at once like he’s a close friend or celebrity. It puts him in a good mood, which is nice because it’s hard keeping a smile on his face when every time he looks at Steve, he imagines him getting shot in the air and plummeting to his death. Nahele’s not thinking it’s his fault, not entirely; but he was the one who went to Steve with Makaio’s OD and got Steve all riled up over the case. He looks at Steve and he sees his pale, still body lying on that cold coat just after surgery.
But today would be a good day, he swore to himself. Yesterday he talked it over with Helen, one of the night shift nurses for the guys, and she agreed that it would be okay to bring them malasadas. But only one each and they have to be jelly, not crème in the middle. Nahele figured it would put a smile on Danny’s face since he’s been whining about the hospital food, and whenever Danny has a smile, so does Steve. Yeah, Nahele’s cracked that code.
He walks into their joined hospital room with a smile on his face, the pastry bag in one hand and a tray of natural pineapple and orange juice cups in the other. He holds them up proudly, expecting cheers of gratitude. Instead, Danny’s nowhere to be found and Steve sits up in his bed with his constipated face.
“What hell are you doing here?” he asks with a frown. Nahele almost drops the food on the ground, “You’re supposed to be at my house. Odell is gonna be there any minute to cut your hair.”
Nahele rolls his head back with a groan, “Crap.”
“Yeah, crap. We talked about this last night, remember?”
“No, not really,” he places the food on the sliding tray that’s bridging over Danny’s bed right now. He plops down on the man’s bed and rests his hands behind his head, “I don’t need a haircut. Hi, Vivian.”
The nurse waiting outside the bathroom door gives him a small wave before crossing her arms over her chest. Nahele can tell she’s agitated over something.
“Is he hiding in the bathroom again?” Nahele asks Steve. The Navy SEAL rolls his eyes.
“He says it’s the only time he has freedom. Don’t change the subject; I already paid Odell in advanced for doing this. He says he doesn’t do proms; he’s a barber not a hair dresser.”
“I don’t need a haircut,” Nahele repeats slowly.
The bathroom door opens up slowly and Danny shuffles out. He closes the door close behind him and nods at the red headed woman waiting on him. “Vivian. You, kid, get out of my bed, up. And yes you do need a haircut; you look like Pauly D.”
Nahele crinkles his nose. It’s a habit he’s picked up from Grace evidently. While he slides off the bed, Steve chuckles and wipes a hand down his tired, scruffy face. Speaking of Odell, he should probably get a shave done soon. Nahele doesn’t think it looks half bad, but Steve’s starting to scratch and the sound is starting to get on Danny’s nerves.
“Who’s that?”
“Probably one of his Jersey friends,” Steve teases.
“How do neither of you know who Pauly D is?” Danny takes his rightful spot in the bed, letting Vivian pull the blankets over him and adjust his pillows, “Vivian, you know who he is right?”
She cracks a smile, “I think it’s better if the boy doesn’t know.”
Once the nurse is gone, Steve buckles his attention back on the earlier topic.
“Nahele, get to my house now. You’re gonna be late,” Steve demands from his bed. Nahele knows he’s restless from the way his foot shakes underneath the blankets. He’s surprised the SEAL hasn’t escaped the hospital at least twice by now. Nahele thinks the only reason he hasn’t yet is because it would worry and involve Danny; not to mention, Steve doesn’t want to do anything to damage the liver Danny so graciously gave to him.
Nahele tried not to whine. Plenty of kids choose not to go to prom; some are even throwing an anti-prom party on the beach. He could say he was going there, but he doesn’t feel like a) lying and b) having to sit all alone in Steve’s house while they thought he was out having fun.
“Are those malasadas?” Danny’s eyes lit up. He rips out his bag and groans up at the ceiling, “Thank you, god. I mean you,” Danny pulls Nahele’s head close to his chest and rubs his hair like a dog, “Best kid ever. Except there is only one in here; why? Why do you hate me?”
“A second ago you were thanking me, now you think I hate you?” Nahele looks over at Steve for help, “Is he always like this?”
“When he’s hungry,” Steve nods side to side, “So yes. Seriously, you got to go, pal. I’m sure Odell is there already and I had Chin make sure your tux is hanging up in my room.”
“Steve, I really don’t feel like…I don’t even have a…”
That feeling like someone was sitting on his chest is back. The back of his neck feels hot and sweats. He looks over at Danny for a second, either for reassurance or a distraction. He’s not really sure. Danny has a pastry pinched between his fingers but he mouths, “Tell him,” before taking a bite. Nahele swallows deeply and turns back to Steve. He’s gonna do it. He’s gonna say it. He’s gonna tell Steve that his date was Makaio and that after everything that happened he really doesn’t feel like attending prom with a bunch of people he doesn’t care about.
He opens his mouth to speak but then he sees Steve’s small, barely there smile. It’s twitching at the corner of his mouth and his eyes are bright and hopeful. He looks like he’s happy, like he’s looking forward to this for Nahele. It’s been a while since someone’s wanted happiness for him; he can’t disappoint Steve, not after what he’s been through.
“Uh, yeah,” Nahele runs a hand through his hair. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to trim it up a bit; it’s a pain to gel. When Steve’s eyes widen and he actually smiles fully, Nahele can’t help but do the same, “Alright, fine I’ll go. Stop looking at me like that.”
“Great!” Steve practically leaps in the hospital bed. He grabs his phone off the side table between his and Danny’s beds and unlocks it, “I’ll pull recon.”
“Oh no,” Danny licks his fingers clean of powder. “You see what happens when you give into peer pressure? He pulls SEAL team 6 on your ass.”
“No one is pulling SEAL team 6,” Steve leans some of his weight on his elbow as he smiles at his phone. He practically giggles with excitement, “She’ll be at the house in an hour, so hop to it.”
“She? She who? Who she? Steve, what did you do?”
“I would ask too, but I think not knowing is way safer for me.”
At the house, Odell rants about being stood up and how it reminded him of his own prom when his date ran off with the football captain. He talks about it the whole time he cuts Nahele’s hair, shaving it down in the back and leaving longer on top so he can gel it still. The man styles it for him and smacks his shoulder to get him upstairs and dressed.
The tux is another favor Steve’s pulled for doing god knows what for god knows who in god knows where. Nahele’s learned it’s easier to accept the favor and not question the linguistics. Steve reassured him that it’s a rental, so he shouldn’t worry about the price. He tried on the tux last week to see if it fit; of course it did like a glove. He’s got the pants, belt, socks, undershirt, dress shirt and jacket on when he realizes that Steve was the one who tied his bowtie and he has no idea how. No one ever taught him.
Before he can panic, the doorbell rings downstairs. Nahele figures it’s Chin, who texted him during the hair cut that he gets the car for the night. He’ll know how to tie this stupid thing.
When Nahele gets downstairs, he stops cold on the steps. It’s not only Chin downstairs but Kono. She’s standing there in a sleek evening gown and her hair up with curls coming down on the sides of her face. She looks stunning; intimidating so. She’s also grinning like a cat and cooing at him. “You look so handsome, oh!”
Nahele blushes immediately. He rolls his eyes and turns to look away while she gushes over him.
“Do a twirl.”
“That’s a girl thing,” Nahele refuses.
“Huikala, I put on a dress and heals for you. You will twirl when I say so.”
He would laugh if he wasn’t so scared, “Yes, ma’am.”
He does what she asked, making her clap excitedly before grabbing two boxes from Chin’s waiting hands. “Okay, now come here. We’re running late.”
“What? We still have over an hour.”
“You want to stop by the hospital don’t you? Show off to all the old ladies and nurses? Besides, the guys want to see you before you go.” That last part is the quickest way to get Nahele moving. He jumps off the last step with a sigh and lets her pin the flower thing onto his lapel. He watches her work with such focus. Her eyebrow turns up and she frowns at him, “Why isn’t your tie fixed?”
“Don’t know how,” he admits. He holds the material up and gives her a charming smile, “Please?”
“You’re lucky you’re cute. Give me that.”
Twenty minutes later they’re standing in the hospital room again. Steve and Danny started hollering when he walked in. Now they’re demanding pictures.
“Hey, do me a favor, will ya? Stand over there. Yeah, right there. Perfect. Now smile,” Danny laughs menacingly to himself as he snaps multiple pictures on his phone, “Look at that! Beautiful. Look at him,” he holds his phone out towards Steve as though he can’t see the real thing in front of him. Steve chuckles.
“I see ‘im.”
Danny’s already taken numerous pictures of him, making him stand in numerous positions and locations around the room. There’s only so much you can do in a hospital room in terms of background. Kono took some with him but now she’s taking candid shots of him with a pleased grin on her face. Even Chin has secretly taken one or two.
“Okay, now take that thing off and put it back on,” Danny requests, already wiggling around in his seat to prepare. Kono had put her corsage on at the house. The ribbon matches her maroon dress perfectly, as well as the ribbon on Nahele’s boutonniere. He’s afraid to ask how she got them so soon. “I wanna get a picture like it’s really happening.”
Nahele throws his head back and groans, “Come on, Danno, this is stupid!”
He doesn’t realize what he’s said until he notices everyone is watching him. Kono is failing at hiding her smile behind her knuckles; she’s practically vibrating. Chin has his chin tipped down to make himself smaller but he gives Nahele a timid, reassuring smile. Steve looks shell shocked; for a moment it’s like he’s not breathing, but then his eyes soften and the corner of his mouth twitches when he turns to look at the man implied.
Nahele hesitates to look at Danny. When he does, he sees him blinking back at him with a blank expression. Nahele’s heart starts speeding like a race horse. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen. Just yesterday he was telling himself not to get used to this. For the past few days he sees everyone every day. Soon that won’t happen anymore. He’ll probably see Danny twice a week at best and Grace every so often. He’s only met Charlie a handful of times. Yesterday he told himself not to get used to everyone assuming they were family. They were a family; he just wasn’t a part of it.
“Oh,” Nahele’s mouth feels dry. He tries licking his lips but it only makes his throat burn, “Dan-Detective Williams, I’m sorry. I know you don’t like anyone calling—”
Danny’s hand goes up to silence him. Nahele avoids his eyes, looking at his palm instead. His fingers are long, but thick and he knows there are faded tattooed letters on his hairy golden knuckles. Just below the webbing of his pointer finger and thumb, Danny has a cross that he got touched up not too long again. Those are caring, nurturing hands. But all Nahele can see is the barely there scar running down Danny’s palm, caused from a story that he has yet to hear about. He has fatherly hands; but they’re not meant for Nahele.
“’Hele,” Charlie’s nickname for him comes out like an escaped breath. It makes Nahele’s brain short circuit. He blinks for what feels like minutes and meets Danny’s eyes when he opens his own. The man slowly smiles radiantly, “You can call me Danno.”
The permission feels like he was granted a key to the world. He sighs with relief and smiles nervously, “Really?”
Danny frowns his eyebrows like Nahele grew a second head, “Course you can, why couldn’t you?”
His eyes sting; he blames it on zoning out while looking at one point for too long. Nahele takes a deep breath throw his nose and turns so he’s not looking at either patient. Through the corner of his eye, he sees Chin smile softly at him. The room suddenly feels too small, there’s too little air. The pressure in his head is too tight and he feels like he’ll explode. He shuts his eyes tightly and takes another breath before nodding. He turns back towards Danny to see the man duck his head to look him in the eye, “Okay?” when Nahele nods back, Danny smiles, “Okay. Good. Now stand up straight, I want one more picture I can send to my Ma.”
Prom, just as he imagined it, is a giant ball of anxiety. There’s loud music and kids ‘dancing’ up against each other, and Nahele can’t hear his own thoughts much less hear what Kono is telling him. Prom is in a hotel ballroom this year; Nahele doesn’t know why the school pays so much for a venue when the room is almost completely dark and you can’t even see the walls.
Kono gets him to dance with her, just to make him smile and loosen up a bit. He twirls her around and shows her off and he almost forgets about the two men lying in hospital beds right now. After a song or two, the heat of the room catches up to them and they agree on drinks. Kono announces she has to use the bathroom and would rather drink from a fountain since the punch is more than likely spiked. She encourages him to drink it through.
He goes to the water cooler next to the punch bowl instead. It’s a fancy cooler with a silver nozzle and a clear body. All of this is too flashy for Nahele. The only other dance he’s been to was in the gym in seventh grade. They had streamers hanging from the basketball hoops and they used the cooler from the football games for water in the hallway.
He chugs down two Dixie cups of water and bobs his head to the pop song playing. He can’t tell what it is, the bass is so loud. He scans the room for nothing in particular, but notices a few of his old friends coming by the refreshment table. They don’t even acknowledge him as they pour pink juice into their glasses from their reserved tables. Kathy, a prissy girl with dyed blond hair and too much makeup speaks to Hunter, a mainlander who moved here a few years ago. He’s on the track team with Nahele and most likely to win prom king later. Of course Nahele finds him completely charming and sexy as hell, which doesn’t help when they get paired together in physics.
“I hear the memorial is next week,” Kathy shouts over the music. Nahele gives her the benefit of the doubt and assumes she’s trying to be quiet about it but the room is too loud. He can’t hear Hunter’s response; the guy is actually being quiet. “It’s so sad. His parents didn’t want anyone to miss out on Prom. I’m not going anyways though; I have a dance recital. Did I tell you I’m in a recital? I have a solo…” she goes on and on and Hunter fills up his glass twice and downs them both with boredom. The sight makes him smile despite the conversation twisting his gut. He crushes his Dixie cup and throws it towards the nearest trash can. He doesn’t care if it makes it in or not.
Once he’s out of the ballroom, he feels like he’s stepped off an airplane. The air in the foyer is too thin compared to inside and his ears ache with pressure. They’re ringing so loud he starts feeling dizzy. Or maybe that’s the reminder that his friend, his Makaio is gone. One second, he’s standing still, the next, he finds himself face first in garbage can by the front desk throwing up. The woman behind the counter gasps with disgust and a few customers run off. Nahele vaguely hears his voice being called but the ringing is too much. His throat burns from dry heaving; he hasn’t eaten more than a bowl of cereal and McDonald’s fries all day. A hand resting on his back makes him jump.
“Are you alright?” its Kono. He takes his head out of the garbage but can’t lift it high enough to see her. He tries breathing through his nose but it makes his eyes water and he’s back to spitting in the trash.
Perfect, just how everyone imagines their prom going; being in the trash can.
“Ma’am can you grab me a towel please?” Kono asks the customer service woman. The woman turns her face in distaste.
“They’re for the guests.”
“I will pay for a room if that’s what I have to do,” Kono sends her a death glare and clenches her jaw, “Towel. Now.”
Nahele doesn’t see the woman race off. He feels the detective rub circles on his back with her palm.
“Aw, you’re drenched,” she lifts his head up with a hand on his forehead and continues to rub his back with her other hand, “I told you to try the punch, not take shots of it.”
“Not the punch,” he admits before throwing up again. He’s in hell; that’s where he is.
Something soft and cool dabs the back of his neck. He stands up straighter with the help of Kono’s hand on his elbow and allows her to pat his forehead before wiping his mouth with the towel. It’s pure white and has a mega high thread count he’s sure. Kono smiles proudly as she dumps the dirty towel on the polished counter. “Whoops. Let’s get you home, alright?”
“No,” he shakes his head. He doesn’t even know where home is anymore. He doesn’t want to start thinking it’s Steve’s, but everyone else apparently does. Kono leads him towards the hotel doors with a hand on each arm. “Can we go to the hospital?”
“For you, or to see them?”
“Them,” Nahele sighs once they hit fresh air. “I want to see them.”
When they get back to the hotel, it’s almost 1030. From the view of the small window on the door, he sees both the men sleeping soundly. Good; he doesn’t feel like explaining why he’s back two hours before Prom is supposed to end.
“I’m sorry I was a lousy date,”
“Naw, don’t worry about it,” she rubs his cheek with her ringers and smiles, “Not the first time a guy’s thrown up on a date.”
“Then I’m really sorry.”
Kono chuckles and kisses his forehead before saying she’s gonna call herself a cab to go home if he’s okay to drive later. Once inside the hospital room, he can finally breathe. This room, these two men, they’ve become his home, he’s realized. He looks at them sleeping soundly; Danny’s finger twitches in his sleep and Steve’s nose flares every once in a while. They’re both down for the count, he figures.
With a sigh, he undoes Kono’s perfect work on his tie and slides it off his shoulders. He throws it onto the food tray and slumps down in his usual chair. He intended on getting some sleep himself, but the more he looks at Steve’s calm, peaceful face, the worse he feels. He tries holding it in but his mouth starts to shake and his eyes blur from tears. He pulls the chair up closer to Steve’s bed and rests half his body on it so he’s lying over Steve’s legs. He cries into the blanket as quietly as he can.
This was not how his night was supposed to go. This was not how his life was supposed to go. Everything was so complicated and fucked up. Things are hanging by a thread. He feels like he’s going insane.
Maybe he’s cried himself into hallucinating, but he thinks he feels a hand thread through his hair just before he passes out from exhaustion.