10.Ran back to the hospital right after work the next day, hoping that he was okay, hoping that he was still there and alive and...well, deprived enough of sex that we could pull off a quick fuck in the bathroom or something.
He had his back to me. It was bare and only interrupted by a tied string of dark blue that dangled down from his neck. I could almost count every vertebrae. Why hadn�t I noticed? Well, he was always under me and never on his stomach, so I guess it wasn�t imperative that I did notice. But still, it was sort of a shock. The sleeves didn�t really cover his arms and he was huddled sort of painfully in the corner of the bed, only partially covered by the blankets.
Bobby was gone, but his cot was still set up next to Jay�s bed and unmade. I stepped a little closer, trying to stay quiet and mindful of Jay�s roommate, a cranky old man who had a penchant for moaning in his sleep for his wife. Of course, that was just my first impression. Maybe he was really nice and had a male friend tucked away in one of his closets or something.
I made my way around the bed and looked at Jay�s face. His eyes were drawn and world-weary. Also quite closed. I ran my finger along his arm, watching the way his arm hair stood on end and how he curled up tightly at my touch. �Jay?� I whispered, shaking him gently. So I was stupid and thought the world revolved around me. I was young and idealistic and extremely horny. Surely those were adequate excuses?
His eyes opened slightly and focused on me for a moment. �Ryan...?� He shifted in bed a bit, turning over onto his back. �Fuck...� he hissed, grabbing his stomach.
�Are you okay?� I asked immediately, but the feeling wasn�t exactly there and he sighed. I cared about him so much, but I wasn�t sure where to draw the line between lust and...and...love. I wanted to hold him and fuck him and know that he�d be there and...
�Have you ever swallowed a camera?�
�You weren�t awake during that, were you?� He stared at me balefully.
�They pumped me full of as many drugs as they could, but you have to be awake to swallow the tube.� I gaped. Watched as his hand slid gently over his chest. �Doctor said they fixed the problem, but I�m not so sure. Still feel like shit.�
Nothing that I wanted to say seemed sufficient. And saying the old standbys like �I�m sorry� and �I�m sure you�ll be okay� would only present the appearance that I didn�t think those things at all.
His eyes widened as I crawled in bed with him and hugged him, ever mindful of his queasy expression. �Ryan...what are you...?� he asked, squirming in my grasp.
�I�m sorry, am I hurting you?� I said, instantly pulling back. He shook his head drowsily.
�No, just didn�t expect it.�
�You don�t think I�m serious do you?� He closed his eyes and laid back, twisting his head in a way that looked very uncomfortable.
�I don�t really want to have this conversation right now.� Rebuffed again.
�Well...can you eat anything?� He snorted.
�I haven�t felt like it for a couple of days. Dorm food can do that to you...that and eating anything makes me want to puke.� He made like he was going to punch himself in the stomach, but he reconsidered. �Fucking stomach. Sometimes I just wish I didn�t have one.� I said nothing, just let my hand travel along his chest, not really paying attention to how he started inhaling slowly. Just felt the coarse fabric, some imprint of the body underneath. Wanted to cut the fabric away and see his flesh, maybe his ulcer would stand out stark against the rest of his skin, a dark painful mark that flared out and encompassed his entire handsome body. The one physical manifestation of Paige�s abuse. Of course, Paige must have only brought out something that was already latent in Jay�s character.
�Nice big tits...� the man in the other bed moaned, grunting and then turning on his side. Jay shoved me away and sat up a bit. He grabbed a pitcher and made a pitiful face.
�Could you refill this?� I took it from him slowly, watching the way that he stared at the world dully, as if the man�s comments had set up a screen between any kind of relationship that wasn�t straight. Or as if the lingering pain and discomfort was just too much to allow anything else.
When I came back he was asleep again. I guessed that they had given him some pretty strong sedatives. Anyway, I really didn�t mind. I so rarely had a chance to just look at him without something else interfering, be it a teacher, Bobby, Amir, or just him himself, his sophisticated methods of seduction. Now he was quiet and still.The jumble of three or four pens in my pocket and the piece of paper that I usually carried around with me as a matter of course dug into my hip. Put the pitcher on a table next to the bed and sat back down in the visitor�s chair. The paper was pretty crumpled and falling to pieces, but it was all I had at the moment. I pulled it out and straightened it on the arm of the chair and then knelt next to the bed. Pulled out a pen from my pocket and just observed him.
He just looked so fucking tired when he didn�t have any makeup on. Maybe it was just because his eyebrows were nearly nonexistent and he was sick. I let my pencil trace down his nose, slide over his cheeks, go over every dip and swell of his lips, his chin. Then further down, towards his neck, his collarbone, only able to see in terms of shades of black and white, going down towards the edge of the paper. I wished that I had brought one of my better sketchbooks, it seemed almost vulgar to have him in my pocket...or to have him on something that I could put in my pocket and carry around...maybe if it had been a picture, a letter, some part of HIM that wasn�t created by me.
I finished a few minutes later, my pencil hovering over his hand. Then I looked up at him, he had his eyes half open and was smiling at me indulgently. �You know, usually I charge for that.� I blushed and started to hide the piece of paper, but he grabbed it gently before I could stuff it in my pocket. �Come on, I�m usually not allowed to see what people have drawn me like. They could make me all...� his voice trailed off as he looked at it. And, to give him credit, he spent far longer looking at it than my mom would have. If she had been looking it would have been a cursory glance, then �Ryan, you�re such a good artist!� and then she�d give it back to me and go along on her merry way.
But he looked at it.
Maybe because it was the first time he�d seen someone else�s impression of himself, maybe because he wanted to draw, maybe because he liked me. Soon I found him giving it back to me gently, almost reverently. Then his hand went to his mouth and he purred. �That�s what I look like?� I nodded dumbly. He moved over slowly and stopped when his face was right in front of mine. A small smirk graced his lips. �I think the artist has taken a few liberties with the subject.� He licked his lips slowly. �Not that I mind, given that the artist is almost edible himself.� His tongue touched the tip of my nose for a second, then he pulled back and away, turning back into his whore manifestation. It was a shame that he wasn�t wearing something more seductive than a hospital gown, but I could handle that.
I peeked at his roommate, who looked to be in the throes of an especially vicious wet dream. Jay nodded towards the curtains that could be moved to surround the bed. I got up and closed them, finally settling down on his bed, staring at him. He didn�t look all that aroused, but I knew better than to expect total and absolute lust from him, especially after all that had happened. I pulled down the sheets and slid my hands up under his gown. His eyes rolled shut and he parted his lips slightly, his teeth bared, his neck arching a little. I kept my hands where they were about halfway between his nipples and cock...bent over to meet his lips. They tasted vaguely of sickness and pain...and even though my stomach turned at the thought of what had crossed them today, I let myself wander along them, letting my tongue dart in and out in little forays of seduction. His breath started to come faster, I ran my thumbs along his cheeks. Finally felt his hardness down below.
I didn�t want to disturb whatever they had done in his stomach, so I pushed things out of the way and let my tongue trail along his shaft, the moan that resulted was so beautiful, it almost made a picture in itself. I opened my mouth wider and started to sheath his cock with it. And he stopped abruptly, pulling away. �It�d be better if you had a condom.�
�You said you don�t have anything.� He shook his head and started to pull his legs up in front of him, shielding himself from my gaze. �Look, I�m willing to take that risk.�
�I�d just prefer it if you used some protection, okay?� He swallowed hard and moved a bit forward, then said in a shaky voice. �I could be much more accommodating if you did.�
�Fine...um...do you have any?�
�If Bobby�s shit is still out there he probably left some.� I let the significance of that comment pass conveniently over my head. Parted the curtains for a moment, finding Bobby�s backpack shoved under the cot. Sure enough, there were condoms in one of the pockets. Nothing really all that special, I guess that was Jay�s department, but did that really matter? I couldn�t believe that I wanted to suck him off. Once he saw the condom he was back to his old flirty self. I wondered why that was...what had happened to make him... He pulled me on top of him and attacked my mouth viciously, taking the condom packet away from me and opening it almost as an afterthought. I wondered how many condoms he�d opened over the years, was he as careful before Paige as he seemed to be afterwards?
Soon I was sucking him down hard, fast, latex or whatever it was caressing the back of my throat, his groans joining the other man�s cries for more tits...Climax, pulled away, threw the condom out, straightened his gown, watched him stare at the ceiling in a vain attempt to calm down. I pulled the curtains open. His roommate was jacking himself off in his sleep. I shook my head sadly, trying to ward off fears that someday I might be like him...alone with no one present to satisfy my sexual desires.
�Are you okay?� I asked. His breathing was still almost pants.
�Yeah...� he trailed off. �I�m sorry...I really shouldn�t have been so bitchy.� he said after a brief pause.
�It�s okay. It just shows that you�re responsible.� Uncomfortable pause, punctuated by the roommate orgasming and then snoring. �But... does it have to do with what happened between you and Paige?� I turned to look at him. He met my gaze evenly.
�Most likely. But I really don�t see what that has to do with you.�
�Look, I�ll stop fuck...� The old man snorted and sat up, staring at me. I blushed and huddled down, trying to be invisible.
�We can talk about this later...I�m supposed to get out tomorrow if there aren�t any complications.� he said, crossing his legs demurely. I couldn�t get over the fact that there was an old man in the room listening to our conversation.
�Really? You�re actually going to talk to me?� I hissed. He sighed and laid back down, trying to push me off the side of the bed with his feet.
�Not if you keep on acting like an asshole.� I decided to leave while he was still semi-content and relatively accommodating.
I couldn�t keep the happiness out of my step as I started to walk down the hallway. The nurses looked at me and then at the tray of tranquilizers set up in front of them. I didn�t care. Jay was going to actually talk to me about himself and then we could fuck and then...
�Can you tell me where Jay Gordon�s room is?� someone asked at the receptionist station. It sounded like a woman trying her hardest to appear like she had some authority. I poked my head around the corner. It was a man. His ebony hair was parted in the middle and put into haphazard spikes. The bangs were the only bit that trailed down on either side of his cheeks. He was dressed all in black... I knew that it was Paige.
�Hey, Bobby? Um...is Jay back yet?� I asked, twirling the phone cord on my finger.
There was a long pause. �No. He won�t be back for a while, if ever.�
�What?!� Oh shit, don�t tell me that he had cancer or something.
�Paige convinced him to go away with him.�