In Sickness and In Health
"How can he do this to me?" Neither of my associates at the lunch table seem to be paying me any mind, so I slam my tray down again. "How can he just leave me like this?"
Jeff flips to a fresh page on his drawing pad before giving me his full attention. "He hasn't left you, dumbass. Kane's out sick. It's not like he did it on purpose."
"Maybe he did," grumbles Matt. "Just to get away from your crazy ass."
I am not crazy. Granted, in the few weeks since he and I… got together, I may have become a tad clingy. But that's because I love being around him. "I still say it's not fair. He gets to be home and I'm stuck here."
"You're right," Matt says. "It's not fair that you're stuck here..."
"Thank you!"
"… With us. You should be at home with him, bothering him with your nonsense. Now, unless you have some previously untapped Calculus skills, hush up so I can finish these problems."
I'm prepared to unleash a torrent of nasty remarks upon his pointy little head when I catch Jeff shaking his head at me. Either he thinks I'm a lost cause or he figures that anything I say will only lead to more trouble. He's probably right on both counts. Half-heartedly, I start on my lunch as the lunchtime babble washes over our table.
After learning that Kane would be absent today, I had planned to go to his house after school to bring him his assignments. That boy would go ballistic if he fell behind. Even if it was only for one day. Besides, he has the kind of smarts where he could miss a month's worth of classes and still have grades high enough for the Honor Roll. I'm no slouch myself, but Kane's level of dedication to his studies is almost unnatural. Now, I'm not so sure I should stop by. Not that I don't plan on leaving him his homework. But, given his condition, he may not be in the mood for company. The last thing I want to do is wear out my welcome this early.
"I envy you, Chris."
Jeff's sudden comment catches me by surprise, causing me to inhale my spoonful of chocolate pudding. In between my coughing fit, I manage to ask him why.
"You've got somebody," he replied, not pausing in his sketching. "Somebody to worry about and care for. Somebody to love."
"Well… You've got Matt." We both turn to find the elder Hardy pulling at his hair while violently chewing on his pencil.
"Surprisingly," says Jeff, "it's not the same."
The bell sounds, signifying the end of the lunch period. I shoulder by backpack, watching Jeff pack up his art supplies. I've made him promise to remember me once he becomes rich and famous. Or at least financially well-fixed and somewhat renowned. That way, I can say I knew him back when we were both nobodies.
We toss the remnants of our meal in the bin and stay the trays on the nearby table. There's only four more periods left before I go visit Kane. That is, if I go visit him. I'm no prize when I'm under the weather, so I've got no assurances he'll greet me with open arms. He might just pull the covers over his head before telling me where to go and how to get there.
"Quit worrying." Jeff slaps me on the back. "He'll be so happy to see you that he might not let you leave. You'll have to sneak out the window during the night."
I swear that boy is telepathic. "What have I told you about those Jedi mind tricks? Still, I can't help but take comfort in his words.
"Don't worry. I only use my powers for good. And remember, Chris, a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down."
He disappears into the crowd. I'm pretty sure the boy is bonkers. But he's still quality people.
~*~*~
The first time I met Mark, I thought he was going to lock me in his basement and make me rub lotion on myself so he could wear my skin as a suit. It took Kane a few days to assure me that that would never happen. They have no basement. Mark is as big as the day is long with tattoos on both his arms and across his back. He drives a pick-up truck to work and rides a Harley Davidson on the weekend. The man is one scary SOB. He's also ultra-protective of his little brother and has threatened to dispose of me in a number of colorful ways should I break Kane's heart.
Having Mark as his sole family member, Kane put himself in charge of all cooking duties. The only thing Mark knows how to make is Deviled eggs. But they were the best damn Deviled eggs I had ever eaten. And I didn't just say that because the man was standing next to me… holding a steak knife. Kane was no Julia Child, but at least he knew how to preheat an oven.
Mark answers the door after the second ring. Once again, there is a knife in his hand. I'm beginning to sense an alarming pattern. Even more unsettling is the fact that he is wearing an apron. I can only hope that Deviled eggs are on the menu.
"Hey, Chris," he says, welcoming me into the house. He makes no move to conceal the knife. "Thanks for stopping by."
"Uh… No problem." I really wish he would put that knife away. I know he won't use it on me, but a good percent of accidents occur in the home. And all he has to do is trip over the end table for me to end up in Trauma One. "How's Kane doing?"
"Fine, fine." He scratches the tip of his nose with his knife-hand. I fear he is about to give himself a lobotomy. "He's sleeping right now. I'm in the middle of cooking him some supper for when he wakes up. If he's up for it."
Gomez Adams wouldn't be up for Mark's cooking. Kane's already ill. No reason to add food poisoning to his list of ailments. Courtesy – and the desire to live to see graduation – prevents me from openly questioning his homemaking skills. "I'll just leave his assignments with you. I don't want to disturb him while he's resting." That's a ton of bull. I want nothing more than to crawl into bed with him and tell him all about the crummy day I had without him.
Finally, Mark puts the knife down on the coffee table. "No, don't go. He's been looking forward to seeing you all day. Especially after I told him you'd be bringing his homework by."
He was happy to be getting his homework? Why doesn't that leave me with a warm, fuzzy feeling? "He was that excited to get started, huh?"
"Yeah, he couldn't wait. Feel free to stay for supper. I fixed plenty."
Not liking the sound of that, I head up to Kane's room and quietly slip inside. The only light comes from the muted television. I carefully tip-top past Judge Judy's silent badgering as I make my way to the desk on the other side of the room. Kane is fast asleep in bed with the covers pulled up to his chin. His glasses are still on. Most likely, he had turned the sound off during a commercial and then drifted off. Poor sick boy. I take his glasses off, putting them back in their case before settling into the desk chair.
I don't think there's anything wrong with watching Kane sleep. It's not like I'm doing anything perverted. I save that for when he's awake. There's just something special about watching him sleep. He's relaxed, completely unguarded. He's got no worries when he's asleep, aside from the odd nightmare. There's no game-playing, no pretending, no judging. Just blissful unconsciousness. In one of their family photo albums I came across a picture of Kane, age four, sucking his thumb in his sleep. I stole that picture.
Deciding I've done enough Kane-watching for one day, I swivel the chair around to face the desk and switch the lamp on. I might as well use this time to get some work done. Kane would be so proud of me.
Forty-five minutes later, I hear Kane turn over in his sleep.
"Tacos…" he mumbles. "Gimme back my tacos…"
My boyfriend dreams about tacos. How disturbingly cute. "There are no tacos," I respond, hoping to return him to his peaceful slumbering.
He doesn't seem to like my answer as he whimpers pitifully, clutching at the empty air. "I want my tacos… They're mine!"
Unable to resist the adorableness of the situation, I play along. Careful not to shake him from his imaginings, I crawl into bed beside him. "Who's got your tacos, Kane?" I wonder how much medication he's taken.
A frown dents his face as he unsuccessfully tries to take back what was rightfully his. "Markie got the tacos… Give 'em back!"
Of course Mark has the tacos. Who else would? I pat the curly brown mess that is Kane's hair and place a soft kiss on his lips, germs be damned. "Don't worry, Kane. I'll make Markie give them back." Like hell. I couldn't make that man give me bus fare. Still, someone has to stand up for Kane. "I won't let anyone take your tacos again. Ever."
Appeased, Kane settles back into his dreamless state. I continue to caress his hair while pondering the mysteries locked away in his brain. Markie must've been quite the meanie to withhold the boy's tacos. I'll have to have a stern talk with him about it. As soon as Hell freezes over. In the meantime, I will be the defender of Kane's tacos. As well as anything else he may want me to look after.
I'm still by his side when he fully awakens less than half an hour later. From his expression, I can tell that he did not expect to find himself sharing his bed with me. If it's possible, I love his confused, Just Waking Up state as much as his Completely Unconscious one. His eyes are unfocused and he appears slightly suspicious that something unpleasant may have happened while he was asleep. I'm willing to bet a month's allowance it's the same look he got every time he had an "accident" when he was growing up.
"What time is it?" His voice is raspy from either the cold or sleep. Blinking, he reaches over me to retrieve his glasses. "How long have I been out?"
"A while," is my response as I help him adjust his glasses. "I brought by your assignments if you wanna get started." Truthfully, the last thing I want to do is move to make way for his school work. The bed is soft and he's so big and warm. I don't even care that he smells like Vicks' VapoRub. He's mine and I want to be with him.
"You shouldn't be here." He pulls away and it takes all my willpower not to cling to him. "I don't want to get you sick."
"I don't mind getting sick. It's a small price to pay to be here when you need me." I need him, too. "Besides, I'm sure you'll take great care of me."
He smiles at me as he pulls down the covers so I can join him beneath them. It's all I can do not to climb on top of him. "Is that your way of saying you want to play Doctor?"
My Kane is ever so clever. He allows me to kiss him, no longer worried about spreading contamination. Self-control is in short supply as I grab hold of the front of his shirt and he draws me closer. If his nose hadn't been so stuffed up, we would never have come back up for air. We content ourselves with little pecks and light brushes of fingertips against bare skin.
"Did you happen to bring anything to eat?" he asks, making a meal out of my earlobe.
"No… But your brother said he fixed some supper." A grin pops onto my face as I slip my hand underneath his shirt. "Maybe he made tacos."
Against my neck, he mumbles, "God, I hope not. I hate tacos."
He doesn't understand why I burst out laughing and the look on his face is absolutely priceless. I draw him into a passionate embrace, reasoning that it would take too long to explain.
END