“Kinda was.” I glared at him with narrowed eyes. After a moment, I figured that bucketful of attitude was just too much effort to maintain. I flopped back onto the pillows propping me up on one arm of the couch. “But not really. Cain’t sleep good like this.”
“Sorry, Dude.” I got a sympathetic smile as he staggered across the room towards the kitchen. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” Kabe dropped the three bags stamped with the local grocery chain’s logo on the breakfast bar. I heard the duffle thud on the floor and then he brought the plastic bag up and plunked it on the counter as well. “Sandy sent over some dinner,” he explained as he dug a casserole dish out of the small bag.
Well that explained one of the five things he’d brought in with him. “What are you doing?” I moved my bum leg and the pain tightened up my face and shoulders. Wondered if it was time to take another pill. Of course, I couldn’t rightly remember when I’d taken the last one. Lord, I needed a chart or something.
Kabe’d disappeared off ‘round the corner into the kitchen where I couldn’t see him. “I got off early.” Drifted back to me.
“I thought you were working the runs all night.” That didn’t answer my question none. “Weren’t they doing some kind of champagne at the summit thing?” I was glad Kabe couldn’t see me darn near brought to tears just trying to adjust the pillows at my back. “You know, ‘cause of,” managed to keep the pain out of my voice…mostly, “New Year’s Eve and all.”
A couple of beeps and some clattering told me that Kabe probably shoved the whatever Sandy’d made into the microwave over the stove. “They had tons of people on shift.” He talked as he messed in the kitchen. “I mean, I was basically covering people’s breaks; dispatch for ski patrol, ran the lift, did some clean up and shit. About nine-thirty they asked who wanted to go home. I don’t need the overtime that bad.”
I’d been laying down too long, especially with my couch being a bit too small for my size. I sat up, got my good leg down on the floor and then swung my bum leg over next to it. As I fumbled for the back of the couch, I grunted out, “Didn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve with your friends?” Hard to talk while I tried not to sink down into the well of pain that kinda movement brought on. Still managed to stand and get myself balanced on one leg. It hurt like sin on Sunday, but I’d figured out how to get myself from the couch to the can without screaming…amazing what motivation having to take a leak is.
“Eh.” He came around the edge of the breakfast bar and shrugged. “They’re nice guys.” As I hobbled over—moving along the back of the couch to the arm to the chair—Kabe stuffed things from outta the bags into the cabinets. “But all the tourons…especially one’s who’ve been drinking.” He turned ‘round towards me, propped his butt on the cabinet and crossed his arms over his chest. With kinda a wry smile, he added, “Thanks, I’ll pass.”
Well, that did answer one part of the question. “Why come here?” I figured he had to know folks who’d invited him for some party or another. I mean, he constantly had folks inviting him to get-togethers after work or such. Kabe just seemed to fit in with the crowd he worked with.
He shoved off from his perch and pointed at the ceiling. “I don’t know, there’s this big king-sized bed upstairs that won’t be used for a while.” As he walked on past me, he kept talking. “Hell of a lot better than sleeping in the twin-sized guest bed at T’s.” Kabe kicked the duffle under the legs of the barstools. “Figured I’d sleep upstairs and in exchange,” probably hearing the thud of chair as it shifted when I started to follow, he grinned back at me, “I’ll bring you down a change of shorts and help you take a sponge bath once in a while.”
“You’re going to take over my bed?” Kabe opened the front door and a rush of cold air hit me. Didn’t have more than a t-shirt and a set of PJ bottoms on. And what the heck more had he brought that he needed to go back outside?
“Dude.” As he headed out on the porch, he laughed. “I’m thinking it’s going to be a few weeks before you can get your ass up those stairs without screaming.” Ignoring the ice on the treads and fresh snow coming down, Kabe thundered down the steps. “So yeah,” he called back at me, “I’ll help you set up things, and I’ll, ah, you know hang out, help out.”
I followed him out, at least onto the porch…the two hops to the door darn near did me in. “You don’t have to do that.” I’d kill myself if I tried to go down into the yard.
I got a glare. “I already told T that most of my money’s going here.” Kabe swung around to the passenger side of his truck and popped open the door. “Going to keep paying him what I owe him on the truck, but, you know, you’re on your own.” Then he started hauling another, bigger, duffle bag out of the cab. “So, I’m helping out.”
Realized I kinda knew what he was up to. I managed to get out, “I don’t need your charity,” without sounding like I wanted to run and hide.
“Charity my ass, dude.” Kabe snorted as he shouldered the bag. “I’m moving in.” A few more little sacks of stuff got dragged out as well. “Call it rent.”
“Why?” I could hardly breathe while I watched him haul his junk towards me. “You got a free bed at T’s.”
Kabe stopped at the base of the stairs. The light from the open door behind me lit up his face and snow sparkled in his hair. Instead of answering my question, Kabe said, “Admit it.” He hit me with one of his soul shattering grins. “You need me, here.”
“I don’t need you,” I insisted.
“You don’t, huh?” His face held all defiant, challenging me, he came up one step.
“No.” I did not need him, not in the way he was talking. “I don’t need you to get my drawers out of the dresser upstairs.” Often took me a bit to wrap my head around something, but when I learned my lesson I learned it good. “I don’t need you to fetch me a pop or make me dinner.”
He came up all the way onto the porch, right up in front of where I leaned against the door frame. “You don’t need me at all, huh?” The big duffle thudded down on the boards of the porch when he slipped it off his shoulder.
“I don’t need you…but, boy, I
need
you.” Reached out and cupped his chin with my hand. “Tomorrow, when I wake up and I’m looking at this ice fueled skid my life is on, I
need
you.” Kabe stepped in just a might closer. “I’m gonna need to hang on to you and remember that it’s all worth it.” But I wanted to make sure he understood I got that this was our life—together. Not just me deciding things. Not just him accepting things I said as law. But that I knew, knew it like my own soul, that he and I were together. “So, no.” Ran my thumb across his bottom lip. “If’n you think you gotta do this because somehow you owe me or something… then go on home to T’s. But if you’re here because you want to be…”
Didn’t even get to finish that thought. And I guess, I didn’t really need him to tell me in words. ‘Cause that hot, strong kiss that he pulled me into, well, I don’t think any protest or explanation that came out of his mouth would have told me just how much he wanted to be there with me. His lips on mine, his heart beating up against my chest and both of us not quite breathing…yeah, that answered me just fine.
James Buchanan is an award winning author of, primarily, gay erotic fiction. James grew up in a small Southwestern town, hours away from any other small Southwestern town. A stint at the State University, where he ostensibly majored in English, garnered him a degree useful for being someone’s secretary. The absolute lack of employment opportunities led James to Southern California. After a stint in County Mental Health (administration not client) he ran screaming into the field of Law. James has been practicing for nine years and someday he might even get it right.
James has published several short stories and novellas as well as six novels with various publishers.
You can find James on the internet at: www.James-Buchanan.com
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Chevy: General Motors
Explorer: Ford Motor Company
Freon: Dupont
Greyhound: Greyhound Lines, Inc.
Honda 200R: The Honda Motor Company
Houdini Pro: Houdini Inc.
IHOP: IHOP IP, LLC
KTM (450): KTM Sportmotorcycle AG
Marlin .30-.30: Marlin Firearms
MICROspikes: Kahtoola Inc.
NoDoz: Novartis Consumer Health, Inc.
Stetson: John B. Stetson Company
Suzuki: American Suzuki Motor Corporation
Tootsie Rolls: Tootsie Roll Industries, Inc.
Toyota: Toyota Motor Company
Tramadol: Robert P. Nickell
Visa Card: Visa International Service Association
Winchester .30-.30: Herstal Group, Fabrique Nationale and the Browning Arms Company
Wonder: HBI
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The Trevor Project operates the only nationwide, around-the-clock crisis and suicide prevention helpline for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and questioning youth. Every day, The Trevor Project saves lives though its free and confidential helpline, its website and its educational services. If you or a friend are feeling lost or alone call The Trevor Helpline. If you or a friend are feeling lost, alone, confused or in crisis, please call The Trevor Helpline. You’ll be able to speak confidentially with a trained counselor 24/7.
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Founded in 1994, The Gay Men’s Domestic Violence Project is a grassroots, non-profit organization founded by a gay male survivor of domestic violence and developed through the strength, contributions and participation of the community. The Gay Men’s Domestic Violence Project supports victims and survivors through education, advocacy and direct services. Understanding that the serious public health issue of domestic violence is not gender specific, we serve men in relationships with men, regardless of how they identify, and stand ready to assist them in navigating through abusive relationships.
GMDVP Helpline: 800.832.1901
On the Web: gmdvp.org/
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On the Web: www.glaad.org/
glaad en espanol: www.glaad.org/espanol/bienvenido.php
Servicemembers Legal Defense Network is a nonpartisan, nonprofit, legal services, watchdog and policy organization dedicated to ending discrimination against and harassment of military personnel affected by “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” (dadt).The sldn provides free, confidential legal services to all those impacted by dadt and related discrimination. Since 1993, its inhouse legal team has responded to more than 9,000 requests for assistance. In Congress, it leads the fight to repeal dadt and replace it with a law that ensures equal treatment for every servicemember, regardless of sexual orientation. In the courts, it works to challenge the constitutionality of dadt.
sldn Call: (202) 328-3244
PO Box 65301 or (202) 328-FAIR
Washington DC 20035-5301 e-mail: [email protected]
On the Web: sldn.org/
The glbt National Help Center is a nonprofit, tax-exempt organization that is dedicated to meeting the needs of the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender community and those questioning their sexual orientation and gender identity. It is an outgrowth of the Gay & Lesbian National Hotline, which began in 1996 and now is a primary program of The glbt National Help Center. It offers several different programs including two national hotlines that help members of the glbt community talk about the important issues that they are facing in their lives. It helps end the isolation that many people feel, by providing a safe environment on the phone or via the internet to discuss issues that people can’t talk about anywhere else. The glbt National Help Center also helps other organizations build the infrastructure they need to provide strong support to our community at the local level.