Thanks and Giving- chapter 3
Title: Thanks and Giving
Chapter: 3/?
Rating: NC17, mostly due to Luke's potty mouth.
Disclaimer: Since CBS cancelled the show, do they really give a shit?
Summary: Very AU. Luke's a rent boy, working the streets.
Author's Note: Sorry for the looooong delay. This took forever for some reason, but I swear I won't make you wait two months for another damn chapter.Thank you so much for you patience. Anyways, much angst ensues because this is me.
I actually helped Noah do up the breakfast dishes like the responsible, good boyfriend I was pretending to be. And it was nice. I washed, Noah dried, and while we were working, he told me funny stories about all the eccentric customers at Goldman's, especially at two in the morning. That I could believe, being a crazy, two am customer at times myself-I didn't exactly have regular working hours.
Anyways, he had me laughing so hard, I almost dropped a glass.
After the dishes were done and neatly put away, Noah wrapped up the still warm pies in foil and put them in one of those cloth shopping bags. So environmentally conscious, my imaginary boo. Then we went and got our coats on. As I shrugged on my jacket, I tried not to notice a new hole in the elbow, which I must have gotten from the night before. Fuck. Then Noah startled me by draping a long green scarf around my shoulders.
"Here-it's a bit of a kind of a long walk to the station. I'm sure it's pretty cold outside." he said, somewhat nonchalantly. He started to wrap a soft grey one around his own neck.
This was so sweet and fussy and mom-like that I wasn't able to protest at all. I adjusted the scarf and cleared my throat, not looking at him. "Uh-thanks." I finally said.
He gave me one of those goofy, lopsided smiles of his, and then pulled some gloves and a wool cap from a shelf on his closet, dropping them into my hands. "Okay-now you're overdoing it, Mayer." I spluttered.
"Humor me." Noah said with determination. "I feel guilty dragging you out into the cold." He frowned suddenly, dark eyebrows knitted."Luke…are you sure you are okay with this ? I mean, we could just stay here. I could order some Chinese, and we could watch a movie or something."
In all honesty, Chinese food and watching a movie on Noah's worn sofa sounded like pure heaven. But I'd also been such an unrelenting asshole that I decided that I should make an attempt to be a good sport. That safe, warm feeling that I got from that amazing hug still lingered-I wanted to give him some payback.
"Noah-it's cool. I am more than happy to tag along." I was pleased with how sincere I managed to sound. "Stop worrying." I jammed the wool cap on top of my head. "Let's get the show on the road."
Noah beamed at me, and then after gently petting and reassuring Groucho for a minute, he locked out the apartment and we left.
It was clear and cold outside, and I was suddenly deeply grateful for the hat, scarf and gloves. There was hardly any traffic on the streets because of the holiday, and the resulting quiet was a bit eerie. The snow had turned everything into soft, abstract sculpture- the stop signs, parked cars and fire hydrants could have been housed in some modern art museum.
It made me suddenly think of walking to my grandma Emma's house after a snow storm. I always loved how the trees would bend like graceful dancers under the weight of white, and the icicles on the fence posts would glitter in the winter sunshine. Best of all, you could see animal tracks in the drifts-raccoon, possum, squirrel and every so often, the soft imprint of a deer. The snowfall somehow made the mundane into something beautiful and mysterious.
It brought a terrible ache in my heart, thinking about the farm, and the innocent, dreamy kid I once was. I tried to distract myself by looking at Noah and that worked. He was just so damn pretty. His clear, pale skin was flushed pink with the cold, and his eyes seemed even bluer out in the daylight, surrounded by sooty lashes. I had the insane urge to hold his hand, but that would have been completely idiotic. My secret fantasy could only go so far.
We walked about five blocks to the subway entrance, and by that time, my damn nose was running. I tried to discreetly wipe it on my sleeve as Noah swiped his subway pass and, ever the gentleman, paid for mine. Which was good, as I had about three bucks in my otherwise bare wallet.
The train were pretty deserted, so we had our choice of seats. We sat side by side, Noah balancing the cloth shopping bag on his long, skinny legs. As the train began to move, I began to pretend that Noah and I were going to his parent's house for dinner, with the family all crowded in the overheated kitchen talking and drinking wine, and the kids running around with olives stuck on the ends of their fingers. A place where everyone was glad to see us, and grandmas and aunts would send us home with tupperware containers generously full of leftovers.
But Noah said that he didn't have any family, so that little fantasy evaporated like a soap bubble. I looked around at the passengers to amuse myself, and ended up focusing on a tired looking mom with two kids in tow. The little boy was whining about something while the girl made a half dressed Barbie dance on her knees.
All at once I ventured into forbidden mental territory again, and began to think about my siblings. Unlike the rest of my family, they were innocent of any betrayal, and I sometimes missed them like I would a limb that had been cut off. Even though a lot of time had passed since I last saw them, they were still little noisy kids in my head. I remember how they smelled, like bubblegum and baby powder, and how their bony butts wiggled in my lap as I tried to read to them from a tattered copy of Dr. Suess.
As I began to wonder what they would think of their big brother now, Noah happily diverted me from that ugly line of thought.
"Hey." he whispered softly in my ear, breath smelling like peppermint. "You okay? You've gotten awfully quiet."
I tried to shrug nonchalantly. "M' fine." I cleared my throat and lied. "Just playing my usual mental game."
Noah smiled slightly, a spark of interest in his eyes."What kind of game is that?"
"Oh…I make up little stories sometimes. In my head. About the people I see, or the situation I'm in. It's a handy time waster when you're in a long line or waiting for a late bus." Although I hadn't been doing this when Noah asked me what was wrong, it really was something I did to amuse myself every so often. I lived inside my head a lot-it made reality somewhat bearable.
Noah's smile revealed the tips of his canines." Cool. I do that, too. Only it's not stories exactly, but pretend movies." He looked at one of our fellow passengers, an old man bundled up a in a grey overcoat, his glasses slipping down on the ends of his red nose, worn hands resting on a cane. "So…what's his story?" he asked quietly.
I studied the man for a moment. "Hmm. He's a retired art professor, specializing in err, Renaissance painting. When he was younger, he studied in Italy, where he met the love of his life… and, um…" I hit a sudden block.
"She was one of his models." Noah said, surprising me and continuing the story."He was staid and buttoned down and she was wild and passionate and crazy. The more he tried to hold on to her, the more she ran away."
I couldn't help grinning at him, as no one had ever played with me like this before. "A bit cliche, Mayer, but still interesting."
"If it takes place in the streets of Florence or Rome, who cares about cliche? Let's set in the 1960's, with all the great clothes and everyone smoking and drinking and looking impossibly hip." Noah got all adorably enthusiastic." There will be all kinds of scenes in discos and colorful cafes, as well as one big fight they have in front of the Trevi fountain, with lots of yelling and kissing." He blushed a little on the word 'kissing' and I suddenly had to fight the urge to press my lips against his, wanting to taste that peppermint breath mint. It took a lot of effort to put on the brakes.
"Anyway, to continue MY story before I was so rudely interrupted-" I teased. "His muse had two other lovers besides him, and she ended up running off with some lame French director who promised her a movie career. Heartbroken, our hero went back to the states, where he taught classes in some boring college and married his secretary. She's at home, waiting for him now. She's never seen the paintings of his old model. They are wrapped up in brown paper, hidden in the attic."
"But he sneaks up to look at them from time to time, drinking a glass of Italian wine." Noah's voice was a little wistful."Roll credits. Good story, although too bleak for today's market. Gotta have that happy ending." He gave me this serious look."You've got a great imagination, Luke."
I didn't think so, but he sounded so sincere, I found myself blushing."Yeah…well." And I have no idea why I said this, I was shocked the words left my mouth." I used to want to be a writer. When I was a, uh, kid."
Noah looked at me seriously. " Really? You should take it up again, Luke."
That made me more than a little angry, as me becoming a writer was about as likely as me being elected the nominee of the Republican party or winning American Idol. I was way past the time of dreams and ambitions-the only ones I had now were getting enough money to pay the rent or surviving the next trick.
Writer? Who the fuck was he kidding?
But before I could say something nasty and sharp, Noah said, "This is our stop." But the time we got off the train, I'd calmed myself down enough to realize that Noah meant no harm. This was my pie baker, my kitten lover, server of waffles. The guy who saved my life. And just like that, he was back to being my pretend boyfriend.
*****
The Homer Parrish Veteran's Rehabilitation Center was a squat, grey building with a wide ramp next to the stairs. Inside wasn't much better, it seemed tired and grim, a institution trying to pretend that it wasn't. The few scattered paper Thanksgiving decorations didn't really cheer the place up, but instead seemed to reemphasize what a cold, depressing place it was. A short, stocky woman talking to the receptionist at the main desk looked up as we entered. She looked up and smiled and waved at Noah, who grinned and waved back. I saw with a slight start that the hand she used to wave with was artificial. She bustled over to us, that smile growing wider with each step. She had friendly, dark eyes behind a pair of glasses and cheerful freckles covered her brown skin.
"Hey, Mayer. Happy Thanksgiving." She gave him a quick hug around his narrow waist, and Noah hugged her back.
"Happy Thanksgiving to you, sweetheart." Noah said. "Surprised to see you here-I thought you were sprung from this joint weeks ago."
"I was. Out in the big, bad old world now. I'm having turkey and stuffing at my grandma's, but I decided to drop in and pester a few of the inmates for awhile." she chuckled. "Who's the stray you brought with you?" she asked, giving me a very curious look. I bristled a little at the word 'stray', and suddenly felt very self conscious about the bruises and big bandage on my face.
Noah threw a long arm around my shoulders, which reassured me a little. "Claire, this is my friend, Luke-"Noah suddenly paused and blushed a little, and I could see it was dawning on him that he didn't know my last name. But he recovered lightning quick."Luke, this is Claire Gallant-worst poker player in the history of cards, and fellow old movie buff."
She nudged him in the ribs."Hey! I seem to remember cleaning your clock at Texas Hold'em a bunch of times, Mayer. In fact, I think you still owe me five bucks." She then smiled wide at me with very white teeth, a charming gap in the middle. "Well, any friend of Noah's is a friend of mine-nice to meet you, Luke. And don't play cards with him-he cheats."
I had to laugh."He kind of struck me as a cardsharp. I'll keep your advice in mind. Good to meet you, Claire." Without thinking, I offered my hand to shake hers, and felt myself go a little red. But Claire didn't bat an eye, and touched my extended hand with her claw-like one, the metal cool against my skin.
Claire then poked at the bag Noah was carrying. "So-what are you smuggling in?"
"Pies. Gotta have pie for Thanksgiving." Noah answered.
"You bet. Hope you brought apple." Claire said hopefully.
"I thought you were eating at your grandmas." Noah raised an eyebrow.
Claire entwined an arm around his and started leading him down a hallway."I am, but there's no reason I can't sneak a piece of pie. What Meemaw doesn't know won't hurt her."
Noah laughed his big laugh, and I sort of felt left out and jealous as I followed them, even though it was stupid. I wondered just how deep this friendship went, although I didn't get any sort of sexual vibe from it. They just seemed to really like each other, and started jabbering on about some dumb old movie Claire had seen on tv the other night. I heard the words, Thin Man, "William Powell" and "Myrna Loy."
I suddenly realized that it had been ages since I had a real, true friend. Someone to just shoot the breeze with, laugh and goof off with. Maddie and I had a lot of fun together, once upon a time, sharing a chocolate milkshake at Al's, swimming in Snyder pond, gabbing on the phone at three in the morning. We talked about everything and anything- school, music, politics, art, sex. I hadn't thought of her in ages, and I began to wonder how she was doing now-not that it would do me any good to wonder things like that. Maddie had a heart of gold, and no doubt felt bad when I up and vanished.
Paolo was the closest thing I had to a friend, but he was nothing like what I had with Mads. We were more like two stray dogs that ran with each other, hunting for garbage to eat. We would protect each other, but we would also tear into each other into shreds if it could lead to some kind of advantage.
Paolo, I knew, wouldn't bother to piss on me if I was on fire.
Noah, on the other hand, would more than likely have people running towards him with hoses and fire trucks. He got a huge, enthusiastic greeting when we got to what looked like a lounge area.I was impressed that he was such a popular volunteer. This place was a little better than the rest of the joint, painted in warmer tones instead of the institutional green. There were couches scattered around the room, and in one corner there was a big screen tv where a football game was on. There was a big buffet table along one wall that was groaning with food, and there were card tables covered with paper tablecloths so people could comfortably eat. It all seemed pretty normal, except for the residents. I thought I had been mentally prepared when Noah had said, "veteran's center". I figured there would be a few guys in wheelchairs-big deal.
But this was evidence of some serious, terrible human carnage, hard to look at. Of the twenty-five people in the room, more than half were in wheelchairs. There were missing limbs and terrible burns and scars. I was no stranger to the grim side of life, but it was a little overwhelming at first. I had to take a few steadying breaths as Noah got welcoming hugs, back pats and fist bumps. I was jolted out of it when I heard Noah loudly say, "Hey everybody! This is my friend Luke. Don't subject him to your usual goddamn craziness. I'm asking you nicely in the spirit of the holiday."
"Aw, Mayer-you're no fun. Don't be such a fucking buzzkill." said a guy in one of the wheelchairs. He was a formidable looking dude with tattooed arms like tree trunks and bald head, a whole bunch of religious medals on his broad chest. He extended a meaty paw. "I'm Hugo. Nice to meet you, Luke." I shook his hand, and it was like solid granite. "The initiation here ain't so tough. You look like you could handle it."
I tried to channel my flippant, cool guy persona, the one that I used to charm, seduce. "As long as it doesn't involve me smearing cranberry sauce all over my body or stealing a Macy's Day parade balloon, I'm game."
Hugo laughed like a bag of hammers being dropped. "Damn. Great ideas. I would love to get ahold of ol' Underdog. Where have you been hiding this dude, Mayer?"
Before Noah could answer, I said. "Found me in an alley." While Hugo laughed and Noah looked a bit startled, I noticed that Claire was staring rather hard at me again. But before I could start worrying about it, I got introduced to James, Pete, Arnie, Ty, Hannah and a bunch of other people whose names I probably wouldn't ever remember.
We were soon ushered over to the food table, and even though I had made a complete pig of myself with Noah's waffles, I loaded a paper plate with all kinds of good stuff-turkey and cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes drenched with gravy and butter, green bean casserole, some soft dinner rolls. I had learned a long time ago never to turn down a meal, especially if it was free.
I sat with Noah, Claire, Hugo and some guy named Vince at one of the rickety card tables to eat. The conversation was jokey and casual, mostly about sports and movies. Noah and Claire apparently had a long running running argument with Hugo about film. Hugo refried to them as 'snooty, annoying film snobs' while Claire called Hugo's film choices "tacky and neanderthal". I was more on Hugo's side than Claire's or Noah's-I just can't get enough of either Vin Diesel or car chases, and movies with subtitles give me a fucking headache. On the other hand, Claire was right in saying that Adam Sandler's comedies were basically' one long fart joke'.
I mostly stayed out of it, eating and chuckling over the good natured banter. It reminded me of dad and Jack and their endless argument over the Sox vs. the Cubbies. There was never a clear winner, and the whole discussion was just staged for low key entertainment. I was so absorbed in this memory that I didn't realize Claire was asking me a question until Hugo nudged me.
"Um..sorry. What did you say?" I noticed that Noah had gone very still and was playing with his mashed potatoes with his fork.
"I just asked how you and Noah knew each other. He's never mentioned you before." Her tone was friendly enough, but I could tell there was some underlying danger by the expression on her face. The curiosity was natural, but I also sensed some serious big sister protectiveness at play.
Noah, in turn, looked completely panicked. "Uh…well…um…we..." he started to stammer. I had a feeling my boy scout was going to prove to be a real shitty liar.
But I was sometimes good at thinking on my feet-after all, I'd lasted a long time on the streets. I instantly thought up a a story, and interrupted Noah by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man, let me tell it. Since you're gonna be all modest and stuff. I work at this little neighborhood joint called the Z Street Bar, which is in Noah's neck of the woods. It's kind of a dive, but, y'know, good material for the novel I'm working on." I somehow couldn't resist that little spin. I thought it was a nice, authentic touch. I ignored Noah's raised eyebrow.
"Anyways, last night I was behind the bar and Noah was having a beer, and this jerk comes in. One of those wall street types, thinks he owns the place, kind of slumming it, you know?" Hugo was nodding, so I already had a captive audience."He was already pretty drunk when he came in, and after two martinis, he got even worse. Started making rude comments about the bar, the customers, and started hitting on this one gal who wanted no part of him. I finally got fed up and told him to leave, but he got in my face and took me by surprise and clocked me."
I indicated the bandage on my head. "My noggin banged into a table, blood every fucking where. I gotta admit, I was down for the count. But Noah leaps in and saves the day along with one of the regulars named Barney-he's a cabbie, and doesn't take shit from anyone-and neither does Mr. Mayer. They toss him on his ass outside, and then Noah, you know, being a paramedic, patched me up at his place. He's such a great guy."I patted his hand. Noah smiled weakly, his face suffused with red. "We started talking and it got really late, so I ended up crashing on his sofa. Then he invited me to tag along here, since I didn't have any Thanksgiving plans."
I was pretty pleased with myself after I had blurted this all out. It was close enough to the truth to not cause any suspicion, it gave no hint to my actual profession and it made Noah look like Captain America. Win-win.
Hugo was impressed and offered one his Incredible Hulk sized mitts to high five Noah. "Awesome. You are such an incredible bad ass, Mayer. Wish I had been there-we would have made that asshole pee his pants."
Noah reluctantly slapped Hugo's hand."No doubt." he stammered.
"No doubt." Claire echoed. "Good that you were at the right place at the right time, Noah." I could tell she was still suspicious, and Noah wasn't helping any by looking like he'd just busted someone's back window with a baseball.
"Yup." he finally said.
Fortunately, Claire let it go, and we started talking about movies again. Both Hugo and I had established a friendly rapport and we started talking about the Fast and Furious series, as well as indulging on second helpings of well, everything. Noah shot me a couple of looks, and I could tell that my lie had thrown him for a loop. But I was also sure he wasn't ever going to humiliate me by telling everyone the truth. He relaxed after awhile, and the success of my fabrication made me a little bit high.
It also lulled me into a false sense of security.
****
I never should drink. Once I start, I can't seem to stop, and it get me into all kinds of trouble. But this place was beyond safe and true to Noah's word, there was beer in a ice chest, free for the taking. Stuffed like a tom turkey, I settled on a sofa next to Noah and drank a couple as we watched the football game. I really didn't give a shit about what was happening on ESPN, but I reveled in being well fed and warm, and the beer tasted good. It made me feel all fuzzy and mellow. I almost fell asleep during the second quarter, and Noah had to nudge me awake. "Do you want to go?" he asked softly in my ear as the others were howling over a bad call. "Is this getting to be too much?"
I looked sleepily into those incredible blue eyes of his and could see worry there, as well as forgiveness. He'd apparently let my Baron Munchausen moment go, just like he'd let my attempt at seducing him go. What an amazing, sweet man.
I gave him a lazy smile. "Not if you don't want to. This has been nice-your friends are great. Thanks for bringing me-I've had a good time."
"Well, maybe we'll leave after the game is over." Noah said with a trace of his lopsided smile. "But let me know if you want to go."
"'kay." I smiled back. It was so nice having someone look out for me, even if he was my pretend boyfriend.
During a commercial, I suddenly realized I had to pee. Beer does that. I asked where the bathrooms were, and was a bit startled by how wobbly I was. I had drunk more than I realized. I weaved my way out of the lounge and found the men's room at the end of a hall.
I took care of my business, and as I was washing my hands, I gave myself a smug grin in the mirror. I still looked like hell, but I was too full of beer to really worry about it.
Then, when I got outside, I found Claire standing there, arms folded. She looked like she meant business, and this time, my wits were too fucked up to do think of a way out of it.
"Hey." I stammered.
"What's your deal, Luke?" She certainly didn't beat around the bush. "Because I didn't buy that bullshit story of yours for one single minute."
This pissed me off. "Really? Why not?"
"First of all, Noah doesn't hang out in bars. Ever. Second, a customer assaults you, and no one calls the cops, or takes you to the hospital?" She looked me critically up and down. "And forgive me for saying so, but you sure as hell don't look like any bartender, not even a third rate one. I think Noah did find you in some alley, and that you are going to be a shitload of trouble."
This stung, even though it was the truth. But I was now mad and drunk and so I doubled down."I have to ask-how is this any of your business? Are you his mom or something, and have to approve of friends? He's a big boy, lady." I took a step closer to her, feeling the meanness bubbling in my blood. "Are you jealous? Planning on sleeping with him?" I snorted." If you really ARE his friend, you know that's not fucking lightly."
That rattled her cage a little, and and I felt a surge of triumph, even though there was a possibility that I had just outed Noah. Whoops. But Claire recovered pretty quickly. "I am his friend. "She said steadily."One of the few people he's gotten close to. So that's why I feel I should watch his back." Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "Noah's a very good man-one of the best people I know. He doesn't need some little punk like you messing with him and taking advantage. I'm guessing that he found you, took you home and now he's going to be stuck with all your drama. Well, he's had enough fucking drama to last several lifetimes." She suddenly poked me in the chest with her clawlike hand. "If you hurt him, you'll have me to answer to. Wanna know how I lost this hand?"
I tried to amp up the bravado even though she was now freaking me out a little. "Not really, but I think you are gonna tell me anyway."
"Yup. Threw a live grenade out of the hospital tent that I was working in. I'm not bragging, but I want you to know that a little punk like you doesn't scare me much. "
"Whatever." I shrugged. And I should have just walked away at this point and been none the wiser. But there is this part of me that has to have the last word, no matter what.
"Look-I get that you are concerned. You don't know me at all. But, god as my witness, I would never hurt Noah. He's, well, amazing. Seriously amazing." I warmed to the subject. "He's kind and generous and rescues kittens and volunteers here, and-"
Claire frowned. "What do you mean, 'volunteers'?" She shook her head, and it then it seemed like she was talking to herself more than me. "Oh, Noah…shit."
My brain was running on Budwieser now, but I was still sharp enough to figure something out. "Was…Noah a patient here? But he's not, you know-"
"Fucked up like me? Like Hugo?" Claire's eyes were fierce."Luke…some people's scars are all on the inside."
I swallowed hard. This explained her protectiveness, and it also was something I certainly could understand. "Tell me what happened to him. You might as well, since you brought it up."
"I don't have to do anything." she snapped. She rubbed her nose with her good hand and sighed. "Damn. he's going to kill me for telling you, but maybe-if you have any sense of decency, it will make you crawl back into the hole you came from." I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself here, but I also was now dying to know what happened to Noah. So I kept my mouth shut.
Claire continued in a low voice."Noah was a P.O. W. Captured by the Taliban. They killed half his squad and captured the rest. And let's just say that most of the Taliban aren't really concerned with the Geneva convention-they love starvation and torture. The only reason they kept Noah alive-barely- was that he was a medic. He was valuable to them. He managed to bargain with them and tried everything he could to keep his guys breathing. Most of them died anyway. After six months, Noah managed to escape with one his best friends, Rob Truitt. I don't know how he did it, but he dragged the both of them over at least a hundred miles of desert. They luckily got found by a British patrol. But then poor Rob died before they could get him to a hospital."
Claire wiped some tears from her face. "Noah was in a hospital in Germany for at least four months, and was transferred here for two. He's been only out in civilian life since this October. I didn't think he was ready, and you're living proof. So, like I said, Luke-if you have a sense of decency, it should be clear to you that he's suffered enough. Even though you've got punkass user written all over you, maybe there's a heart somewhere." She suddenly went nose to nose with me and tapped her claw on my chest. "If not, I'll find it for you." And with that, she turned on her heel and left.
To say I was stunned was an understatement. I imagined something bad, but this was off the charts. My knees felt weak and I slid on to my butt on the cold floor.
I kept thinking about that picture I had seen with Noah and his squad back in the apartment. Their sunburned faces, their exhausted smiles. The pain in their eyes. I felt a cold sick twist in my gut, and I suddenly wished I hadn't eaten so much.
"Luke?" I looked up and saw Noah standing over me, worry all over his handsome face. "You okay? I was starting to think you might have fallen in."
I started to struggle to my feet and Noah helped hoist me up with those strong, capable hands of his." I-I'm not feeling so hot, actually. Everything is sort of catching up to me, I guess."
"Shit. I'm sorry." I actually hated him for apologizing, for being kind. "We really shouldn't have stayed so long. Let's get you home."
And Noah being Noah, said the word 'home' like he meant it. Like it was my home too.
And that somehow made me feel even worse.
****
We said our goodbyes, with Hugo telling me to come back and not be a stranger. Claire gave Noah a parting hug, and I got a dark, warning look from her that given enough time, could have possibly burned a hole through my forehead.
"Take care, Luke." She said to me. No missing the nasty warning in that statement.
It was starting to get dark outside and the snow began to fall just as we got to the subway station. I didn't feel like talking much and Noah seemed to respect that, although he kept throwing me concerned glances when he thought I wasn't paying attention.
Outwardly, I was quiet and still. Inside I was in complete turmoil. As there were two sides of me staging an all out war.
There was the slick survivor voice inside my head, my old Jessie voice. He was the guy that easily conned his tricks into handing out an extra fifty, springing for meals at fancy restaurants, a nice hotel room. He was cool and mean and and covered with an exoskeleton of pure steel, so nothing could ever touch him. Jessie was pretty jazzed about the insider info that Claire had spilled on Noah Mayer.
"Well, doesn't take a shrink to suss out that Mr. Mayer has major survivor's guilt. All his buddies died in the war, he couldn't save 'em. That's too damn bad, but hey, shit happens. Also means you are on easy street for awhile, dawg. You can milk this situation for all it's worth, as Noah's going to take good care of you. And you can just sit back and not do a thing-just give him a few made up tidbits from your tragic story once in awhile to make him feel like he has to take care of you. You can keep pretending he's your boyfriend if it will make it easier. And with some regular hours, good food and sleep, you'll be in prime form again, ready to make some serious money. No more back alley blow jobs. This couldn't have happened at a better time-take advantage of it. Otherwise, you are a fucking idiot."
But there was also another voice, one that I hadn't heard for a long, long time. It was the me before Echo Lake and the streets. It sounded a lot like Holden Snyder. "You can't do this, Luke. Noah's pretty vulnerable, he's been through hell. All you are going to do is make it worse with your mess. He doesn't deserve this kind of treatment, especially after all he's done for you. For once in your miserable life, maybe you should think about someone else for a change. He saved your fucking life-it's the least you can do. "
I was so preoccupied that I didn't notice we had made it to our stop until Noah nudged me. It was when we were back out in the snow-now seriously falling from the darkened sky- that I finally decided who I was going to listen to. I gathered my courage just as we passed the Z Street Bar, where it all started. It was, of course open in spite of the holiday and I could hear the muffled sound of the Jukebox. The song was an old Pat Benetar number, Love is a Battlefield.
Perfect.
I grabbed Noah's arm. "Hey. Buy me a drink."
Noah was startled and stared at me like I had grown two heads. "W-what? Seriously? You want to go back in there?"
"Why not? It's really not a bad place. It's not even seven o'clock yet, and suddenly, a gin and tonic sounds good." I wheedled. "C'mon, Noah. You need to cut loose once in awhile. Don't be such a stiff."
Noah frowned at me, rubbed the back of his neck. "Luke-I'm tired. I've got to be at work tomorrow at six am. And you look like you need to lie down. You've been through a lot. I can make some tea, we can watch a movie-"
"What are you-my mom?" I sneered. "Is this the price I'm going to have to pay for sleeping on your crappy couch? You telling me what to do all the time?"
Noah look both wounded and baffled. "No. No. Luke-I just want to help you is all. And I thought that maybe… you'd let me. Please."
That made my chest ache a little and I was really tempted to let my plan go for a minute. But I made myself talk. "Hey…let me tell you a story, Noah Mayer. You like stories. It's about this good guy who finds this rent boy in a alley. He saves his life, and takes care of him and lets him stay in his apartment. And the rent boy gets his act together gets a job and they become friends and fall in love and have great sex. The end."
I laughed. "What a corny, shitty Lifetime movie piece of crap that is. It's not reality, is it? A better story would be that the rent boy is too fucking set in his ways. And he can't find a job, given his history, so he gets bummed out and depressed. He starts turning tricks behind our hero's back, and runs with his old crowd again. The final scene is the good guy coming home and finding the rent boy fucking some john in his bed. He throws them both out and finally gets on with his life. I think that's a lot more honest, right? Because happy endings are for rubes and suckers." I took a deep breath and took a step closer to him.
"I'm not some stray cat that followed you home, Noah. You can't keep me. You are a really amazing guy, and I honestly didn't think there were people like you in the world. Thanks for everything-for the bandages, the food, your trust. For saving my life. But the thing is, it's my life. And you can't fix it, Noah. No one can." I reached out and touched his stunned face. "Take care of yourself, Spider-Man."
There was a lot more I wanted to say, but I didn't have the right. I turned to go, before I lost my resolve. Then Noah suddenly grabbed my wrist and then shoved me backwards, into a lamppost. He's shaken off the deer in the headlights look and was now completely, utterly furious.
"Why? Why won't you at least take a chance and try? What the fuck, Luke! You have so much going for you-you're really smart and funny and tough enough to give strange men blow jobs in alleys. Why can't you use that bravery to stop and try and live a better life? I can tell that you hate it. What have you got to lose, huh? Nothing. You're right, I can't save you. But I know you can save yourself." His eyes welled up with tears. I wasn't sure if they were for me or Rob Truitt. Maybe both. It took everything in my power not to reach up and wipe them away.
I took a deep breath. "Noah. Go home. To the Groucho cat and your apartment and the deli. Go back to school. Tell stories and make some movies."
Noah's anger evaporated and he looked completely lost. The soldier that had wandered a goddamn desert, dragging his friend with him. Then he shocked me by bending down and kissing me.
I hadn't been kissed in a long, long time, and it was never like this. Noah's lips were soft and dry and gentle, and he tasted like peppermint. It was the best, most amazing kiss I had ever gotten, and I finally kissed him back, maybe telling him how I really felt without words. That he was too good for me. That I wanted more than anything to live with him, even though it would be a disaster.That I was halfway in love with him, and would probably die if I hurt him.
He finally pulled away, and rested his head against mine. I saw snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes. "You know where to find me, Luke. " And with that, he turned and walked away.
I didn't want to see him go. I marched right into the bar and sat down because my legs were shaking. I ordered a beer with the last of my money and drank it down in about two gulps. Then I just sat and stared mindlessly at the tv for a few minutes while the jukebox played Elton John, the Doobie Brothers, Hall and Oats. The same hits that had been playing for thirty years and probably thirty more.
I finally got up and went back outside. Even thought the snow was thick, I could see the light from Noah's little apartment. It took everything I had not to run there and go up that rickety elevator and knock on that door.
Instead, I started to make the long trek home.
Chapter: 3/?
Rating: NC17, mostly due to Luke's potty mouth.
Disclaimer: Since CBS cancelled the show, do they really give a shit?
Summary: Very AU. Luke's a rent boy, working the streets.
Author's Note: Sorry for the looooong delay. This took forever for some reason, but I swear I won't make you wait two months for another damn chapter.Thank you so much for you patience. Anyways, much angst ensues because this is me.
I actually helped Noah do up the breakfast dishes like the responsible, good boyfriend I was pretending to be. And it was nice. I washed, Noah dried, and while we were working, he told me funny stories about all the eccentric customers at Goldman's, especially at two in the morning. That I could believe, being a crazy, two am customer at times myself-I didn't exactly have regular working hours.
Anyways, he had me laughing so hard, I almost dropped a glass.
After the dishes were done and neatly put away, Noah wrapped up the still warm pies in foil and put them in one of those cloth shopping bags. So environmentally conscious, my imaginary boo. Then we went and got our coats on. As I shrugged on my jacket, I tried not to notice a new hole in the elbow, which I must have gotten from the night before. Fuck. Then Noah startled me by draping a long green scarf around my shoulders.
"Here-it's a bit of a kind of a long walk to the station. I'm sure it's pretty cold outside." he said, somewhat nonchalantly. He started to wrap a soft grey one around his own neck.
This was so sweet and fussy and mom-like that I wasn't able to protest at all. I adjusted the scarf and cleared my throat, not looking at him. "Uh-thanks." I finally said.
He gave me one of those goofy, lopsided smiles of his, and then pulled some gloves and a wool cap from a shelf on his closet, dropping them into my hands. "Okay-now you're overdoing it, Mayer." I spluttered.
"Humor me." Noah said with determination. "I feel guilty dragging you out into the cold." He frowned suddenly, dark eyebrows knitted."Luke…are you sure you are okay with this ? I mean, we could just stay here. I could order some Chinese, and we could watch a movie or something."
In all honesty, Chinese food and watching a movie on Noah's worn sofa sounded like pure heaven. But I'd also been such an unrelenting asshole that I decided that I should make an attempt to be a good sport. That safe, warm feeling that I got from that amazing hug still lingered-I wanted to give him some payback.
"Noah-it's cool. I am more than happy to tag along." I was pleased with how sincere I managed to sound. "Stop worrying." I jammed the wool cap on top of my head. "Let's get the show on the road."
Noah beamed at me, and then after gently petting and reassuring Groucho for a minute, he locked out the apartment and we left.
It was clear and cold outside, and I was suddenly deeply grateful for the hat, scarf and gloves. There was hardly any traffic on the streets because of the holiday, and the resulting quiet was a bit eerie. The snow had turned everything into soft, abstract sculpture- the stop signs, parked cars and fire hydrants could have been housed in some modern art museum.
It made me suddenly think of walking to my grandma Emma's house after a snow storm. I always loved how the trees would bend like graceful dancers under the weight of white, and the icicles on the fence posts would glitter in the winter sunshine. Best of all, you could see animal tracks in the drifts-raccoon, possum, squirrel and every so often, the soft imprint of a deer. The snowfall somehow made the mundane into something beautiful and mysterious.
It brought a terrible ache in my heart, thinking about the farm, and the innocent, dreamy kid I once was. I tried to distract myself by looking at Noah and that worked. He was just so damn pretty. His clear, pale skin was flushed pink with the cold, and his eyes seemed even bluer out in the daylight, surrounded by sooty lashes. I had the insane urge to hold his hand, but that would have been completely idiotic. My secret fantasy could only go so far.
We walked about five blocks to the subway entrance, and by that time, my damn nose was running. I tried to discreetly wipe it on my sleeve as Noah swiped his subway pass and, ever the gentleman, paid for mine. Which was good, as I had about three bucks in my otherwise bare wallet.
The train were pretty deserted, so we had our choice of seats. We sat side by side, Noah balancing the cloth shopping bag on his long, skinny legs. As the train began to move, I began to pretend that Noah and I were going to his parent's house for dinner, with the family all crowded in the overheated kitchen talking and drinking wine, and the kids running around with olives stuck on the ends of their fingers. A place where everyone was glad to see us, and grandmas and aunts would send us home with tupperware containers generously full of leftovers.
But Noah said that he didn't have any family, so that little fantasy evaporated like a soap bubble. I looked around at the passengers to amuse myself, and ended up focusing on a tired looking mom with two kids in tow. The little boy was whining about something while the girl made a half dressed Barbie dance on her knees.
All at once I ventured into forbidden mental territory again, and began to think about my siblings. Unlike the rest of my family, they were innocent of any betrayal, and I sometimes missed them like I would a limb that had been cut off. Even though a lot of time had passed since I last saw them, they were still little noisy kids in my head. I remember how they smelled, like bubblegum and baby powder, and how their bony butts wiggled in my lap as I tried to read to them from a tattered copy of Dr. Suess.
As I began to wonder what they would think of their big brother now, Noah happily diverted me from that ugly line of thought.
"Hey." he whispered softly in my ear, breath smelling like peppermint. "You okay? You've gotten awfully quiet."
I tried to shrug nonchalantly. "M' fine." I cleared my throat and lied. "Just playing my usual mental game."
Noah smiled slightly, a spark of interest in his eyes."What kind of game is that?"
"Oh…I make up little stories sometimes. In my head. About the people I see, or the situation I'm in. It's a handy time waster when you're in a long line or waiting for a late bus." Although I hadn't been doing this when Noah asked me what was wrong, it really was something I did to amuse myself every so often. I lived inside my head a lot-it made reality somewhat bearable.
Noah's smile revealed the tips of his canines." Cool. I do that, too. Only it's not stories exactly, but pretend movies." He looked at one of our fellow passengers, an old man bundled up a in a grey overcoat, his glasses slipping down on the ends of his red nose, worn hands resting on a cane. "So…what's his story?" he asked quietly.
I studied the man for a moment. "Hmm. He's a retired art professor, specializing in err, Renaissance painting. When he was younger, he studied in Italy, where he met the love of his life… and, um…" I hit a sudden block.
"She was one of his models." Noah said, surprising me and continuing the story."He was staid and buttoned down and she was wild and passionate and crazy. The more he tried to hold on to her, the more she ran away."
I couldn't help grinning at him, as no one had ever played with me like this before. "A bit cliche, Mayer, but still interesting."
"If it takes place in the streets of Florence or Rome, who cares about cliche? Let's set in the 1960's, with all the great clothes and everyone smoking and drinking and looking impossibly hip." Noah got all adorably enthusiastic." There will be all kinds of scenes in discos and colorful cafes, as well as one big fight they have in front of the Trevi fountain, with lots of yelling and kissing." He blushed a little on the word 'kissing' and I suddenly had to fight the urge to press my lips against his, wanting to taste that peppermint breath mint. It took a lot of effort to put on the brakes.
"Anyway, to continue MY story before I was so rudely interrupted-" I teased. "His muse had two other lovers besides him, and she ended up running off with some lame French director who promised her a movie career. Heartbroken, our hero went back to the states, where he taught classes in some boring college and married his secretary. She's at home, waiting for him now. She's never seen the paintings of his old model. They are wrapped up in brown paper, hidden in the attic."
"But he sneaks up to look at them from time to time, drinking a glass of Italian wine." Noah's voice was a little wistful."Roll credits. Good story, although too bleak for today's market. Gotta have that happy ending." He gave me this serious look."You've got a great imagination, Luke."
I didn't think so, but he sounded so sincere, I found myself blushing."Yeah…well." And I have no idea why I said this, I was shocked the words left my mouth." I used to want to be a writer. When I was a, uh, kid."
Noah looked at me seriously. " Really? You should take it up again, Luke."
That made me more than a little angry, as me becoming a writer was about as likely as me being elected the nominee of the Republican party or winning American Idol. I was way past the time of dreams and ambitions-the only ones I had now were getting enough money to pay the rent or surviving the next trick.
Writer? Who the fuck was he kidding?
But before I could say something nasty and sharp, Noah said, "This is our stop." But the time we got off the train, I'd calmed myself down enough to realize that Noah meant no harm. This was my pie baker, my kitten lover, server of waffles. The guy who saved my life. And just like that, he was back to being my pretend boyfriend.
*****
The Homer Parrish Veteran's Rehabilitation Center was a squat, grey building with a wide ramp next to the stairs. Inside wasn't much better, it seemed tired and grim, a institution trying to pretend that it wasn't. The few scattered paper Thanksgiving decorations didn't really cheer the place up, but instead seemed to reemphasize what a cold, depressing place it was. A short, stocky woman talking to the receptionist at the main desk looked up as we entered. She looked up and smiled and waved at Noah, who grinned and waved back. I saw with a slight start that the hand she used to wave with was artificial. She bustled over to us, that smile growing wider with each step. She had friendly, dark eyes behind a pair of glasses and cheerful freckles covered her brown skin.
"Hey, Mayer. Happy Thanksgiving." She gave him a quick hug around his narrow waist, and Noah hugged her back.
"Happy Thanksgiving to you, sweetheart." Noah said. "Surprised to see you here-I thought you were sprung from this joint weeks ago."
"I was. Out in the big, bad old world now. I'm having turkey and stuffing at my grandma's, but I decided to drop in and pester a few of the inmates for awhile." she chuckled. "Who's the stray you brought with you?" she asked, giving me a very curious look. I bristled a little at the word 'stray', and suddenly felt very self conscious about the bruises and big bandage on my face.
Noah threw a long arm around my shoulders, which reassured me a little. "Claire, this is my friend, Luke-"Noah suddenly paused and blushed a little, and I could see it was dawning on him that he didn't know my last name. But he recovered lightning quick."Luke, this is Claire Gallant-worst poker player in the history of cards, and fellow old movie buff."
She nudged him in the ribs."Hey! I seem to remember cleaning your clock at Texas Hold'em a bunch of times, Mayer. In fact, I think you still owe me five bucks." She then smiled wide at me with very white teeth, a charming gap in the middle. "Well, any friend of Noah's is a friend of mine-nice to meet you, Luke. And don't play cards with him-he cheats."
I had to laugh."He kind of struck me as a cardsharp. I'll keep your advice in mind. Good to meet you, Claire." Without thinking, I offered my hand to shake hers, and felt myself go a little red. But Claire didn't bat an eye, and touched my extended hand with her claw-like one, the metal cool against my skin.
Claire then poked at the bag Noah was carrying. "So-what are you smuggling in?"
"Pies. Gotta have pie for Thanksgiving." Noah answered.
"You bet. Hope you brought apple." Claire said hopefully.
"I thought you were eating at your grandmas." Noah raised an eyebrow.
Claire entwined an arm around his and started leading him down a hallway."I am, but there's no reason I can't sneak a piece of pie. What Meemaw doesn't know won't hurt her."
Noah laughed his big laugh, and I sort of felt left out and jealous as I followed them, even though it was stupid. I wondered just how deep this friendship went, although I didn't get any sort of sexual vibe from it. They just seemed to really like each other, and started jabbering on about some dumb old movie Claire had seen on tv the other night. I heard the words, Thin Man, "William Powell" and "Myrna Loy."
I suddenly realized that it had been ages since I had a real, true friend. Someone to just shoot the breeze with, laugh and goof off with. Maddie and I had a lot of fun together, once upon a time, sharing a chocolate milkshake at Al's, swimming in Snyder pond, gabbing on the phone at three in the morning. We talked about everything and anything- school, music, politics, art, sex. I hadn't thought of her in ages, and I began to wonder how she was doing now-not that it would do me any good to wonder things like that. Maddie had a heart of gold, and no doubt felt bad when I up and vanished.
Paolo was the closest thing I had to a friend, but he was nothing like what I had with Mads. We were more like two stray dogs that ran with each other, hunting for garbage to eat. We would protect each other, but we would also tear into each other into shreds if it could lead to some kind of advantage.
Paolo, I knew, wouldn't bother to piss on me if I was on fire.
Noah, on the other hand, would more than likely have people running towards him with hoses and fire trucks. He got a huge, enthusiastic greeting when we got to what looked like a lounge area.I was impressed that he was such a popular volunteer. This place was a little better than the rest of the joint, painted in warmer tones instead of the institutional green. There were couches scattered around the room, and in one corner there was a big screen tv where a football game was on. There was a big buffet table along one wall that was groaning with food, and there were card tables covered with paper tablecloths so people could comfortably eat. It all seemed pretty normal, except for the residents. I thought I had been mentally prepared when Noah had said, "veteran's center". I figured there would be a few guys in wheelchairs-big deal.
But this was evidence of some serious, terrible human carnage, hard to look at. Of the twenty-five people in the room, more than half were in wheelchairs. There were missing limbs and terrible burns and scars. I was no stranger to the grim side of life, but it was a little overwhelming at first. I had to take a few steadying breaths as Noah got welcoming hugs, back pats and fist bumps. I was jolted out of it when I heard Noah loudly say, "Hey everybody! This is my friend Luke. Don't subject him to your usual goddamn craziness. I'm asking you nicely in the spirit of the holiday."
"Aw, Mayer-you're no fun. Don't be such a fucking buzzkill." said a guy in one of the wheelchairs. He was a formidable looking dude with tattooed arms like tree trunks and bald head, a whole bunch of religious medals on his broad chest. He extended a meaty paw. "I'm Hugo. Nice to meet you, Luke." I shook his hand, and it was like solid granite. "The initiation here ain't so tough. You look like you could handle it."
I tried to channel my flippant, cool guy persona, the one that I used to charm, seduce. "As long as it doesn't involve me smearing cranberry sauce all over my body or stealing a Macy's Day parade balloon, I'm game."
Hugo laughed like a bag of hammers being dropped. "Damn. Great ideas. I would love to get ahold of ol' Underdog. Where have you been hiding this dude, Mayer?"
Before Noah could answer, I said. "Found me in an alley." While Hugo laughed and Noah looked a bit startled, I noticed that Claire was staring rather hard at me again. But before I could start worrying about it, I got introduced to James, Pete, Arnie, Ty, Hannah and a bunch of other people whose names I probably wouldn't ever remember.
We were soon ushered over to the food table, and even though I had made a complete pig of myself with Noah's waffles, I loaded a paper plate with all kinds of good stuff-turkey and cranberry sauce, stuffing, mashed potatoes drenched with gravy and butter, green bean casserole, some soft dinner rolls. I had learned a long time ago never to turn down a meal, especially if it was free.
I sat with Noah, Claire, Hugo and some guy named Vince at one of the rickety card tables to eat. The conversation was jokey and casual, mostly about sports and movies. Noah and Claire apparently had a long running running argument with Hugo about film. Hugo refried to them as 'snooty, annoying film snobs' while Claire called Hugo's film choices "tacky and neanderthal". I was more on Hugo's side than Claire's or Noah's-I just can't get enough of either Vin Diesel or car chases, and movies with subtitles give me a fucking headache. On the other hand, Claire was right in saying that Adam Sandler's comedies were basically' one long fart joke'.
I mostly stayed out of it, eating and chuckling over the good natured banter. It reminded me of dad and Jack and their endless argument over the Sox vs. the Cubbies. There was never a clear winner, and the whole discussion was just staged for low key entertainment. I was so absorbed in this memory that I didn't realize Claire was asking me a question until Hugo nudged me.
"Um..sorry. What did you say?" I noticed that Noah had gone very still and was playing with his mashed potatoes with his fork.
"I just asked how you and Noah knew each other. He's never mentioned you before." Her tone was friendly enough, but I could tell there was some underlying danger by the expression on her face. The curiosity was natural, but I also sensed some serious big sister protectiveness at play.
Noah, in turn, looked completely panicked. "Uh…well…um…we..." he started to stammer. I had a feeling my boy scout was going to prove to be a real shitty liar.
But I was sometimes good at thinking on my feet-after all, I'd lasted a long time on the streets. I instantly thought up a a story, and interrupted Noah by putting a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man, let me tell it. Since you're gonna be all modest and stuff. I work at this little neighborhood joint called the Z Street Bar, which is in Noah's neck of the woods. It's kind of a dive, but, y'know, good material for the novel I'm working on." I somehow couldn't resist that little spin. I thought it was a nice, authentic touch. I ignored Noah's raised eyebrow.
"Anyways, last night I was behind the bar and Noah was having a beer, and this jerk comes in. One of those wall street types, thinks he owns the place, kind of slumming it, you know?" Hugo was nodding, so I already had a captive audience."He was already pretty drunk when he came in, and after two martinis, he got even worse. Started making rude comments about the bar, the customers, and started hitting on this one gal who wanted no part of him. I finally got fed up and told him to leave, but he got in my face and took me by surprise and clocked me."
I indicated the bandage on my head. "My noggin banged into a table, blood every fucking where. I gotta admit, I was down for the count. But Noah leaps in and saves the day along with one of the regulars named Barney-he's a cabbie, and doesn't take shit from anyone-and neither does Mr. Mayer. They toss him on his ass outside, and then Noah, you know, being a paramedic, patched me up at his place. He's such a great guy."I patted his hand. Noah smiled weakly, his face suffused with red. "We started talking and it got really late, so I ended up crashing on his sofa. Then he invited me to tag along here, since I didn't have any Thanksgiving plans."
I was pretty pleased with myself after I had blurted this all out. It was close enough to the truth to not cause any suspicion, it gave no hint to my actual profession and it made Noah look like Captain America. Win-win.
Hugo was impressed and offered one his Incredible Hulk sized mitts to high five Noah. "Awesome. You are such an incredible bad ass, Mayer. Wish I had been there-we would have made that asshole pee his pants."
Noah reluctantly slapped Hugo's hand."No doubt." he stammered.
"No doubt." Claire echoed. "Good that you were at the right place at the right time, Noah." I could tell she was still suspicious, and Noah wasn't helping any by looking like he'd just busted someone's back window with a baseball.
"Yup." he finally said.
Fortunately, Claire let it go, and we started talking about movies again. Both Hugo and I had established a friendly rapport and we started talking about the Fast and Furious series, as well as indulging on second helpings of well, everything. Noah shot me a couple of looks, and I could tell that my lie had thrown him for a loop. But I was also sure he wasn't ever going to humiliate me by telling everyone the truth. He relaxed after awhile, and the success of my fabrication made me a little bit high.
It also lulled me into a false sense of security.
****
I never should drink. Once I start, I can't seem to stop, and it get me into all kinds of trouble. But this place was beyond safe and true to Noah's word, there was beer in a ice chest, free for the taking. Stuffed like a tom turkey, I settled on a sofa next to Noah and drank a couple as we watched the football game. I really didn't give a shit about what was happening on ESPN, but I reveled in being well fed and warm, and the beer tasted good. It made me feel all fuzzy and mellow. I almost fell asleep during the second quarter, and Noah had to nudge me awake. "Do you want to go?" he asked softly in my ear as the others were howling over a bad call. "Is this getting to be too much?"
I looked sleepily into those incredible blue eyes of his and could see worry there, as well as forgiveness. He'd apparently let my Baron Munchausen moment go, just like he'd let my attempt at seducing him go. What an amazing, sweet man.
I gave him a lazy smile. "Not if you don't want to. This has been nice-your friends are great. Thanks for bringing me-I've had a good time."
"Well, maybe we'll leave after the game is over." Noah said with a trace of his lopsided smile. "But let me know if you want to go."
"'kay." I smiled back. It was so nice having someone look out for me, even if he was my pretend boyfriend.
During a commercial, I suddenly realized I had to pee. Beer does that. I asked where the bathrooms were, and was a bit startled by how wobbly I was. I had drunk more than I realized. I weaved my way out of the lounge and found the men's room at the end of a hall.
I took care of my business, and as I was washing my hands, I gave myself a smug grin in the mirror. I still looked like hell, but I was too full of beer to really worry about it.
Then, when I got outside, I found Claire standing there, arms folded. She looked like she meant business, and this time, my wits were too fucked up to do think of a way out of it.
"Hey." I stammered.
"What's your deal, Luke?" She certainly didn't beat around the bush. "Because I didn't buy that bullshit story of yours for one single minute."
This pissed me off. "Really? Why not?"
"First of all, Noah doesn't hang out in bars. Ever. Second, a customer assaults you, and no one calls the cops, or takes you to the hospital?" She looked me critically up and down. "And forgive me for saying so, but you sure as hell don't look like any bartender, not even a third rate one. I think Noah did find you in some alley, and that you are going to be a shitload of trouble."
This stung, even though it was the truth. But I was now mad and drunk and so I doubled down."I have to ask-how is this any of your business? Are you his mom or something, and have to approve of friends? He's a big boy, lady." I took a step closer to her, feeling the meanness bubbling in my blood. "Are you jealous? Planning on sleeping with him?" I snorted." If you really ARE his friend, you know that's not fucking lightly."
That rattled her cage a little, and and I felt a surge of triumph, even though there was a possibility that I had just outed Noah. Whoops. But Claire recovered pretty quickly. "I am his friend. "She said steadily."One of the few people he's gotten close to. So that's why I feel I should watch his back." Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "Noah's a very good man-one of the best people I know. He doesn't need some little punk like you messing with him and taking advantage. I'm guessing that he found you, took you home and now he's going to be stuck with all your drama. Well, he's had enough fucking drama to last several lifetimes." She suddenly poked me in the chest with her clawlike hand. "If you hurt him, you'll have me to answer to. Wanna know how I lost this hand?"
I tried to amp up the bravado even though she was now freaking me out a little. "Not really, but I think you are gonna tell me anyway."
"Yup. Threw a live grenade out of the hospital tent that I was working in. I'm not bragging, but I want you to know that a little punk like you doesn't scare me much. "
"Whatever." I shrugged. And I should have just walked away at this point and been none the wiser. But there is this part of me that has to have the last word, no matter what.
"Look-I get that you are concerned. You don't know me at all. But, god as my witness, I would never hurt Noah. He's, well, amazing. Seriously amazing." I warmed to the subject. "He's kind and generous and rescues kittens and volunteers here, and-"
Claire frowned. "What do you mean, 'volunteers'?" She shook her head, and it then it seemed like she was talking to herself more than me. "Oh, Noah…shit."
My brain was running on Budwieser now, but I was still sharp enough to figure something out. "Was…Noah a patient here? But he's not, you know-"
"Fucked up like me? Like Hugo?" Claire's eyes were fierce."Luke…some people's scars are all on the inside."
I swallowed hard. This explained her protectiveness, and it also was something I certainly could understand. "Tell me what happened to him. You might as well, since you brought it up."
"I don't have to do anything." she snapped. She rubbed her nose with her good hand and sighed. "Damn. he's going to kill me for telling you, but maybe-if you have any sense of decency, it will make you crawl back into the hole you came from." I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself here, but I also was now dying to know what happened to Noah. So I kept my mouth shut.
Claire continued in a low voice."Noah was a P.O. W. Captured by the Taliban. They killed half his squad and captured the rest. And let's just say that most of the Taliban aren't really concerned with the Geneva convention-they love starvation and torture. The only reason they kept Noah alive-barely- was that he was a medic. He was valuable to them. He managed to bargain with them and tried everything he could to keep his guys breathing. Most of them died anyway. After six months, Noah managed to escape with one his best friends, Rob Truitt. I don't know how he did it, but he dragged the both of them over at least a hundred miles of desert. They luckily got found by a British patrol. But then poor Rob died before they could get him to a hospital."
Claire wiped some tears from her face. "Noah was in a hospital in Germany for at least four months, and was transferred here for two. He's been only out in civilian life since this October. I didn't think he was ready, and you're living proof. So, like I said, Luke-if you have a sense of decency, it should be clear to you that he's suffered enough. Even though you've got punkass user written all over you, maybe there's a heart somewhere." She suddenly went nose to nose with me and tapped her claw on my chest. "If not, I'll find it for you." And with that, she turned on her heel and left.
To say I was stunned was an understatement. I imagined something bad, but this was off the charts. My knees felt weak and I slid on to my butt on the cold floor.
I kept thinking about that picture I had seen with Noah and his squad back in the apartment. Their sunburned faces, their exhausted smiles. The pain in their eyes. I felt a cold sick twist in my gut, and I suddenly wished I hadn't eaten so much.
"Luke?" I looked up and saw Noah standing over me, worry all over his handsome face. "You okay? I was starting to think you might have fallen in."
I started to struggle to my feet and Noah helped hoist me up with those strong, capable hands of his." I-I'm not feeling so hot, actually. Everything is sort of catching up to me, I guess."
"Shit. I'm sorry." I actually hated him for apologizing, for being kind. "We really shouldn't have stayed so long. Let's get you home."
And Noah being Noah, said the word 'home' like he meant it. Like it was my home too.
And that somehow made me feel even worse.
****
We said our goodbyes, with Hugo telling me to come back and not be a stranger. Claire gave Noah a parting hug, and I got a dark, warning look from her that given enough time, could have possibly burned a hole through my forehead.
"Take care, Luke." She said to me. No missing the nasty warning in that statement.
It was starting to get dark outside and the snow began to fall just as we got to the subway station. I didn't feel like talking much and Noah seemed to respect that, although he kept throwing me concerned glances when he thought I wasn't paying attention.
Outwardly, I was quiet and still. Inside I was in complete turmoil. As there were two sides of me staging an all out war.
There was the slick survivor voice inside my head, my old Jessie voice. He was the guy that easily conned his tricks into handing out an extra fifty, springing for meals at fancy restaurants, a nice hotel room. He was cool and mean and and covered with an exoskeleton of pure steel, so nothing could ever touch him. Jessie was pretty jazzed about the insider info that Claire had spilled on Noah Mayer.
"Well, doesn't take a shrink to suss out that Mr. Mayer has major survivor's guilt. All his buddies died in the war, he couldn't save 'em. That's too damn bad, but hey, shit happens. Also means you are on easy street for awhile, dawg. You can milk this situation for all it's worth, as Noah's going to take good care of you. And you can just sit back and not do a thing-just give him a few made up tidbits from your tragic story once in awhile to make him feel like he has to take care of you. You can keep pretending he's your boyfriend if it will make it easier. And with some regular hours, good food and sleep, you'll be in prime form again, ready to make some serious money. No more back alley blow jobs. This couldn't have happened at a better time-take advantage of it. Otherwise, you are a fucking idiot."
But there was also another voice, one that I hadn't heard for a long, long time. It was the me before Echo Lake and the streets. It sounded a lot like Holden Snyder. "You can't do this, Luke. Noah's pretty vulnerable, he's been through hell. All you are going to do is make it worse with your mess. He doesn't deserve this kind of treatment, especially after all he's done for you. For once in your miserable life, maybe you should think about someone else for a change. He saved your fucking life-it's the least you can do. "
I was so preoccupied that I didn't notice we had made it to our stop until Noah nudged me. It was when we were back out in the snow-now seriously falling from the darkened sky- that I finally decided who I was going to listen to. I gathered my courage just as we passed the Z Street Bar, where it all started. It was, of course open in spite of the holiday and I could hear the muffled sound of the Jukebox. The song was an old Pat Benetar number, Love is a Battlefield.
Perfect.
I grabbed Noah's arm. "Hey. Buy me a drink."
Noah was startled and stared at me like I had grown two heads. "W-what? Seriously? You want to go back in there?"
"Why not? It's really not a bad place. It's not even seven o'clock yet, and suddenly, a gin and tonic sounds good." I wheedled. "C'mon, Noah. You need to cut loose once in awhile. Don't be such a stiff."
Noah frowned at me, rubbed the back of his neck. "Luke-I'm tired. I've got to be at work tomorrow at six am. And you look like you need to lie down. You've been through a lot. I can make some tea, we can watch a movie-"
"What are you-my mom?" I sneered. "Is this the price I'm going to have to pay for sleeping on your crappy couch? You telling me what to do all the time?"
Noah look both wounded and baffled. "No. No. Luke-I just want to help you is all. And I thought that maybe… you'd let me. Please."
That made my chest ache a little and I was really tempted to let my plan go for a minute. But I made myself talk. "Hey…let me tell you a story, Noah Mayer. You like stories. It's about this good guy who finds this rent boy in a alley. He saves his life, and takes care of him and lets him stay in his apartment. And the rent boy gets his act together gets a job and they become friends and fall in love and have great sex. The end."
I laughed. "What a corny, shitty Lifetime movie piece of crap that is. It's not reality, is it? A better story would be that the rent boy is too fucking set in his ways. And he can't find a job, given his history, so he gets bummed out and depressed. He starts turning tricks behind our hero's back, and runs with his old crowd again. The final scene is the good guy coming home and finding the rent boy fucking some john in his bed. He throws them both out and finally gets on with his life. I think that's a lot more honest, right? Because happy endings are for rubes and suckers." I took a deep breath and took a step closer to him.
"I'm not some stray cat that followed you home, Noah. You can't keep me. You are a really amazing guy, and I honestly didn't think there were people like you in the world. Thanks for everything-for the bandages, the food, your trust. For saving my life. But the thing is, it's my life. And you can't fix it, Noah. No one can." I reached out and touched his stunned face. "Take care of yourself, Spider-Man."
There was a lot more I wanted to say, but I didn't have the right. I turned to go, before I lost my resolve. Then Noah suddenly grabbed my wrist and then shoved me backwards, into a lamppost. He's shaken off the deer in the headlights look and was now completely, utterly furious.
"Why? Why won't you at least take a chance and try? What the fuck, Luke! You have so much going for you-you're really smart and funny and tough enough to give strange men blow jobs in alleys. Why can't you use that bravery to stop and try and live a better life? I can tell that you hate it. What have you got to lose, huh? Nothing. You're right, I can't save you. But I know you can save yourself." His eyes welled up with tears. I wasn't sure if they were for me or Rob Truitt. Maybe both. It took everything in my power not to reach up and wipe them away.
I took a deep breath. "Noah. Go home. To the Groucho cat and your apartment and the deli. Go back to school. Tell stories and make some movies."
Noah's anger evaporated and he looked completely lost. The soldier that had wandered a goddamn desert, dragging his friend with him. Then he shocked me by bending down and kissing me.
I hadn't been kissed in a long, long time, and it was never like this. Noah's lips were soft and dry and gentle, and he tasted like peppermint. It was the best, most amazing kiss I had ever gotten, and I finally kissed him back, maybe telling him how I really felt without words. That he was too good for me. That I wanted more than anything to live with him, even though it would be a disaster.That I was halfway in love with him, and would probably die if I hurt him.
He finally pulled away, and rested his head against mine. I saw snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes. "You know where to find me, Luke. " And with that, he turned and walked away.
I didn't want to see him go. I marched right into the bar and sat down because my legs were shaking. I ordered a beer with the last of my money and drank it down in about two gulps. Then I just sat and stared mindlessly at the tv for a few minutes while the jukebox played Elton John, the Doobie Brothers, Hall and Oats. The same hits that had been playing for thirty years and probably thirty more.
I finally got up and went back outside. Even thought the snow was thick, I could see the light from Noah's little apartment. It took everything I had not to run there and go up that rickety elevator and knock on that door.
Instead, I started to make the long trek home.