RP LOG with seeuincourt | It's a mate thing

[richandlovingit]

[Follows THIS]

After Sophie got paged into work the next morning, despite hoping she would have another day off with her husband, Ethan assured her he would be fine, especially in light of the fact it was a young kid that really needed her help. They had made an executive decision together to not visit the hospital the day before to give Stuart some space without feeling like every time he turned around, someone from Tom's family was breathing down his neck. Instead, Ethan left some messages with the nursing staff to pass on to Tom, one serious to assure him he would come visit the next day to catch up, and the second full of jokes and innuendo that the nurse would have gotten a migraine trying to figure out. It was mateship language, sacred, and never something to be shared with random members of the opposite sex. In any case, it should have given Tom a bit of a laugh probably in the wake of Stuart explaining everything that had gone down. Of course, Ethan worried Tom might not have taken any of the news well, but Stuart had promised to call him if anything went wrong. There had been no call, so Ethan had the luxury of spending a quiet day at home with Sophie, curled up together watching movies and ordering greasy take away and then sent his driver to McDonalds to get them double hot fudge sundaes for dessert. This was why he liked being rich. Dessert was the only thing from McDonalds Ethan would ever put near his lips.


It was now the next day, and fucking freezing to boot. Ethan was unwinding his Burberry scarf from around his neck when he headed through the ICU at The London Bridge Hospital. The snowy weather seemed to be deterring visitors because there was hardly anyone around. In fact, when he got to Tom's hospital room, he discovered Tom to be the only occupant in the private room for the first time since he had been admitted. "Oh come on," he said with a teasing snort. "Don't tell me you've given him the flick already? I gotta bet with Soph that you would last at least another month. Are you trying to send me broke, mate?"

Tom's eyes flicked from the grey sky outside his window to Ethan, and he smirked. "No, he's in another area of the hospital. I had a momentary spurt of energy and fucked him unconscious. He's sleeping it off with an IV attached to his arm." Tom started to laugh until his chest hurt, and he stopped as he raised his hand to rest it against the operation sight. He thought about the scar that would be there, and frowned a little. He still wasn't sure if it was the kind of scar he wanted to embrace, or not. Some scars seemed to increase sexiness, and add an air of danger, but this one might just wind up looking like he got butchered. Eventually he cleared his throat as he held Ethan's gaze. "Did you see it?"

Ethan looked over Tom's face and pulled one of the chairs closer to the bed to sit down. He shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the back of the chair. "Typical. Fucked up in a car wreck and still manage to get your cock out. I'm very impressed, and the medical kink is something else." He gave a small sigh and pressed his lips together. "Did I see what, mate?" he asked quietly, now that the initial jokes were out of the way.

"It's the only part of me not broken. As for the medical kink, might as well embrace my surroundings," Tom replied but his smirk was gone. He pointed at his chest and looked back at his best mate. "The... ah, incision. Did you see it?"

Ethan reached over and took Tom's hand, moving it just a little lower down his torso so Tom's finger was hovering a couple of inches above his belly button. "Around there, mate. Your chest is hurting from the seatbelt. It's pretty bruised. And yeah, I saw it when they were dressing it one day. It's about four, five inches. Pretty neat now it's all sewn up again. You could always get a naval piercing with a diamond cock on it to draw attention away from it," he said with another flick of a smirk. "Are you worried you're disfigured or something?"

Tom looked down at where his finger now was and gave a small shake of his head. "I don't know," he admitted. "I can't really... sometimes I can think clearly, other times not so much. I hate this. I hate feeling like I'm not quite here. I think it's because of the pain killers." Tom gave his friend a sheepish look. "The big bad lawyer's a fucking pussy when it comes to pain killers. Funny, huh? I just... I'm not sure if I'm going to be okay with it, or not. It's going to be a constant reminder. I can stand having a scar, but what if I just can't ever look at it because of what it means?"

"Yeah, you're a pussy, but I won't hold it against you. Mate... you hit your head really bad. Enough to put you in a coma for over a week. You don't even recover from a hangover overnight, and you're expecting yourself to be in top form twenty four hours after you wake up? You're not fucking Superman, so lie there and suck it up a bit. It's gonna get better, I promise. Right now, you're a bit banged up, and it probably fucking hurts like hell. But it's okay. It doesn't make you a pussy, it just makes you human. I don't know how much he told you, but you were centrepunched by a van. They braked at the last second, and it saved your life. You just don't get to come out of something like that with a bit of a headache and a limp. Physically, you're a bit fucked up. Mentally and emotionally, well..." He paused, hand going to the edge of Tom's blankets to begin to pull them down. "There's only one way to know, and that's to have a look."

Tom's frown deepened, and he hated Ethan briefly for being so bloody logical. However, if he was going to hear this from anyone, it would be his best friend. And if he was going to have this conversation with anyone, it would be the man who was like his brother. He'd touched on it briefly with Stuart, but the truth was he had wanted to focus on being awake, and seeing his lover again, than thinking about his wounds. He watched Ethan's hand, and sighed. "I looked at it with Stuart, but I'm not sure I was really with it. Or wanted to know."

Ethan didn't miss the frown aimed at him and just raised his eyebrow in response. They copped each others moods all the time, it never phased them. In fact, he would probably be a lot more worried if there wasn't some sort of confused or uncertain feelings in Tom. At least he was responsive, at the very least. Ethan wouldn't resort to smacking his mate in the face this time, but he might need to reserve a wedgie for another day or maybe give him a wet willy, if it came to drastic measures. "Without the dressings?" He chewed briefly on his lower lip in thought. "Did you talk to him? Or was it too much to try and deal with? You do know I'm not going to let you fall into a trap of delusion with any of this. I'm not going to let you lose yourself because of it, and neither will he. Stubborn bastard, he is. Don't think you just have to contend with love smacks from me."

Tom shook his head and remained quiet for a long moment. "No, with the dressings. I couldn't... I latched onto the curry thing. Apparently I can't eat any hot curries." He let out a huff of breath in place of laughter, and then rolled his eyes. "I know you won't let me, because I'd never let you. Doesn't mean I have to make it easy. I've never been a good patient for anyone. You can ask Stuart about the stupid Man Flu. We're both stubborn. Makes for some seriously tasty angry sex. Love smacks from both of you? I'm spoiled."

Ethan smirked. "Well, you can. But please, for the fucking sake of the rest of us, don't," he joked. He readjusted his wedding ring on his finger, still watching Tom with a slight analytical air. "Do you want to have a look at it? It's not half as cool as anything from a horror movie. No blood, no guts, not even any pus. Fucking boring, really... Do you really want to wear it as some sort of awful badge of memory about what happened, or would you rather just start to accept that you've got it, and it's more of a reminder of what you escaped, than what you didn't? None of it was your fucking fault, mate. Some people are just nut jobs, and you got hurt. I wish to fuck it wasn't you, and I wish to fuck it was someone else's best mate, but it wasn't. You're still here, though. Not even wounded soldiers come home without a few scars."

Tom watched Ethan readjust the ring and reached to take his friend's hand as his own thumb brushed over the gold band. "Does it bring you comfort? Does she? And yes, I want to look. If it's really so boring then I have nothing to be afraid of. And I don't think I am... afraid. I just feel wary. Stuart said the same thing, you know. He said I should be looking at it as a reminder that I survived. And I think I will, once I just shake the stupid feeling in my head. I really do feel like I have a giant fucking hangover without the fun of drinking. Or the random sex."

Ethan looked at the ring and nodded slowly. "Wouldn't have gotten through this without her," he admitted, feeling a little flip of emotion in his gut as he once again took in the sight of Tom confined to a hospital bed for the moment. "It's what I wished I could give Stuart a piece of when he was sitting here day after day with you, but I knew I just couldn't. We tried, but I don't think any of us knew how to deal with it. He mostly just stayed silent. I don't know him well enough yet to have even had an inkling of what he was thinking. Trying to figure out best to get back on the horse so he can keep it together for you, I guess. That's probably where my head would be. I tried to put myself in his shoes, but everytime I thought of Sophie being where you were, I wanted to vomit. I think we've all got that stupid feeling in our heads... on some level." He was reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small silver flask and held it up. "You're not allowed to have random sex anymore, but I can help you with the former. You can have a few mouthfuls without it killing you, apparently."

"I want that," Tom admitted in a low murmur. "I never thought I did, but I do. I look at what you and Sophie have... And I want that. I think I can get it with Stuart, but we need to get through this. He's moving in. He's going to take care of me. I just hope I'm not too much of a bitch. And I hope you never do have to deal with Soph in here instead of me. For that reason alone I'm glad it's me. I'm starting to understand just how much she means to you. How much your life is now about taking care of her." He arched his eyebrow at the sight of the small silver flask. "I shouldn't really be surprised, should I? This is also why I keep you around."

"More to it than just the ring and wedding presents. People don't realise that. Some people want to piss their jocks at the thought of being bound by a piece of paper," Ethan paused and gave Tom a pointed look. "I used to be one of those once. When chicks started on about diamonds and setting dates, I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself in it. But it changes when you find the right person, as bloody fucking cheesy as that sounds. It just does. That doesn't mean it's always easy, because fuck, it really isn't. But what's the point of marrying someone if they're not worth going through some shit for? Life's a long time, you've gotta be sure it's what you want. Moving in's a good start, but it sounds like you've got some talking to do with him. It's not going to matter if you're a bitch, it's going to matter if you get in that far and realise you don't like it. This whole thing, it's forced you into a place quicker than you probably would have gotten there yourself. But it seems like his heart is in the right place with you, mate," he added and unscrewed the flask, tucking it into Tom's hand. "Dull the pain and then we'll look at that big, giant scalpel wound."

"But I asked him to move in when I told him I loved him. And yesterday, I told him I couldn't be without him. And I can't. I don't feel like I can. I feel so fucking weak, and useless, and I don't want to be without him. I need him to get me through this. Just like I need you, but it's different. You know? I'm not scared at the thought, and I don't want to bury myself in a hole. Not that he's mentioned diamonds. Can't really see him as a diamond bloke, actually. It's already changed. It was different from the moment he fell on me." He wet his lips, and looked down at the flask before lifting it to his lips to take a sip. "But I know we have to talk."

Ethan pointed down at Tom's lap. "Hey, you got jocks on, mate? Or am I gonna get scarred for life again?" he asked, tugging at the covers again while Tom worked on the liquor in the flask. Forty year old double malt should at least hit one spot. "Doesn't mean you can't get him a ring or something if the time ever comes. Gay blokes are getting hitched all the time now, so us het people can't have the monopoly on the shiny traditions. But I'm your mate, and there forever I have to ask questions like this. Are you absolutely sure this is what you want? Deep down, right in your gut, when you stop and think about waking up and finding out he's not there, how do you feel?"

Tom actually winced as the alcohol slipped down his throat. He wasn't sure his taste buds could properly appreciate the forty-year-old double malt, but he definitely appreciated the sentiment. "Take a deep breath... and prepare to be scarred, mate," Tom smirked. "Like I get jocks in this place. They don't have the time to change them if I shit my pants. I could get him some kind of ring. Maybe a cock ring..." He glanced down at his stomach before looking back up at Ethan. His stomach twisted, and his breath caught in his throat. "Awful. Alone. Empty. I'm sure it's what I want, Ethan."

Ethan scrunched his face up. "Aw, fuck, jeez, mate," he complained with a snort and then looked absolutely horrified. "Why the fucking hell of all fucks would you want anything sharp and pointy suck in your cock?! Fuck the bling, that's just so friggen wrong. Bloody hell, my dick is tingling in sympathy at just the thought." He folded the covers down neatly and then pushed Tom's gown up, probably with a lot less TLC than Stuart offered the day before. This was one of those mate sacrifices and the best way at it was in head first, pardon the pun. "Alright, no bitching at me when the tape rips the hair off, you big pussy. I remember that band-aid incident in ninth grade." He plucked up the corner of the dressing and in one quick tug, had it pulled off quickly to explose the neatly stitched operation site.

Tom started to laugh until the pain in his chest kicked in. "Fuck... I get the seatbelt saved my life, but it fucking hurts now. And I was just joking, mate. I wouldn't get him a cock ring. Fuck that. My lips are the only thing going around his dick." He sucked in a breath in anticipation for Ethan whipping off the dressing, but it didn't stop him groaning in pain. The band-aid incident might have been years ago, but Tom still didn't enjoy having tape ripped off his hair. His eyes had been squeezed tight shut, and it took him a moment, and another sip of scotch to open them again to look down at the wound. "Huh."

Ethan had the dressing stuck to his fingers and he was stilled at first before he started to try and shake the very sticky tape off his fingers with little success. "If the nurse asks, it fell off," he decided, the shaking picking up as he started to get frustrated. "Fucking medical tape..." He was watching Tom closely and then pulled his lips to the side, moving on to try and dislogde the tape from his fingers by rubbing them against the edge of the bed. "Is that a good 'huh' or a bad one?"

"While I was trying to escape?" Tom suggested as he raised his eyebrows. "Or while you were trying to fondle the wounded patient in a sudden burst of homosexual curiosity? No worries, secret's safe. And here..." Tom reached out to grab the dressing off Ethan, tearing it off his fingers before sticking it against the empty bed pan off to his side. "It's a good 'huh'. Pretty sure I can actually make this work for me."

Ethan looked at his fingers, now sans tape. He looked back at the wound and nodded. "Told you, it was boring. Tell people you got it in a sword fight. Or a shark ate you. Or, I know, bondage fail," he said with a smirk. "I'm gonna tell everyone that Stuart hung you from the roof in a leather harness and you fell off."

Tom smirked. "I think that would scare Stuart more than amuse him. Apparently he really has no interest in that sort of thing. Although I think I remember him saying cuffs were cool." He touched his fingers tentatively against his skin near the operation site, but didn't touch the stitched up wound. "Maybe I got it by fighting some twat trying to touch my boyfriend's cock?"

Ethan snorted through an amused snigger. "You've got a boyfriend," he couln't help but taunt in a sing-song voice. This was probably only just the start of the piss-pulling too. "Like any bloke would get close enough to you to hurt you before you killed the fucker for that. You'd have the guy's face smashed into the nearest wall quicker than he could say 'copper'. I say just go all dark and broody, refuse to talk about it and keep the mystery alive. People will make up way cool stories then. Like, you're a Black Ninja who goes around at night sucking cocks without anyone knowing it."

"I really am that dangerous. And all because I have a boyfriend." Tom had echoed the sing-song voice with a smile, letting Ethan get the teasing in for a moment. It was nice to have his friend make him feel momentarily normal. "I could never be a Black Ninja cock sucker. I like people to know what I'm doing to them. Besides, I'm a one cock man now."

Ethan tilted his head in amusement and then took the flask off Tom to take a small swig from it, letting the taste melt through his mouth before he swallowed. "You're going to still have to do the domestic thing and introduce Soph and me to him properly. Poor bloke was a mess when we met him. He just kind of had it all dumped on him out of the blue and I was quite impressed he didn't just bolt and hide in the bed pan room down the hall until we left. Plus, the Irish bloke his partner was fucking entrapped some chick who came in bad-mouthing you, got her to admit she was lying. Completely full on. Should I be paraoid you've got me surrounded by cops all of a sudden?"

Tom could feel a grin forming as he looked at his mate. "If I was ever going to frisk you, or put you in cuffs, I would have done it myself. I'm much more paranoid than you are at being surrounded by cops all of a sudden. I'm not even sure about that Irish bloke. I know he's Stuart's partner's Irish cock, only not. He's a manwhore. Like me, apparently. Or like I was. I think he's worried she got hurt by him going back home. We'll have to get that dinner back on track, but I'm not sure I can do it without still being in a bed."

"Cuffs? Seriously? Wouldn't that be like you coming home from work at the end of the day and tossing off to a law textbook?" Ethan asked, looking genuinely curious as to why a copper would want to cuff someone for a kink. "In saying that, I might need to get my hands on some cuffs..." He shrugged. "I wouldn't know, mate. I only got bits of the story. The partner was here on and off making sure your copper was okay, but she was also on the case with these two other blokes. One pretty hot and the other looked like my Uncle Bob. I just heard there was an Irish bloke who well knows his way around entrapment, only I haven't seen any Irish blokes around here, so maybe he did go home. Not that I know where home is, or why the hell he is here, or why he would entrap anyone to help you. The whole thing was giving me a migraine. Sooner or later, your fucking brain just stops absorbing anything. Have they told you how much longer you need to be here? Maybe you can get a Get Out of Jail Free card if you hire a home nurse for awhile? I know Stuart will have it... you... in hand, but for the medical shit. Might be a compromise. It's not like you need oxygen or anything. Probably just someone to do the dressings and medications and shit. Better your bed than this fucking shit, yeah?"

Tom lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug as he tried to remember the conversation. He and Stuart had had it around the time Tom invited him to the orgy. Now he was actually glad it hadn't happened. Stuart coming over for a late night booty call had been so much better, not to mention the fact that Tom hadn't wanted to share him with anyone. And still didn't. "I think so, yeah. And not quite. Handcuffs are no textbook. More like coming home to toss off with a QC wig. You want to cuff Soph? Does she know?" He scrunched up his face as he kept trying to make his memory work, only this was for talk of the Irish cock. "Erm, the Irishman's the blonde's ex partner from New York. The blonde being the American that the good looking half of those coppers is seeing. Matt and Ronnie. Ronnie's your Uncle Bob." His tongue rest in the corner of his mouth. "I don't know why he helped either. Might have just been helping Gee."

Ethan blinked, having him lost himself for just a moment. "I was thinking more that she could cuff me," he admitted with a devious smirk. "Am I going to have to remember all these people and know them one day? You need to write up fucking cue cards or something, get them to wear name tags. Gee? The partner? Okay, so that's gotta be short for something, because that's not who she introduced herself as when she interrogated Soph and me. So, where is your other half then? I know you think you're Supercock, but I'm not buying the ninja IV fuck."

"Ah, well, in that case I approve," Tom said with a slight snigger. "I'm sure your missus will be more than happy to have her wicked way with you. I don't know, mate. I'll add it to the list of things I have to talk to Stuart about. If the Irish cock's gone back home, I'm assuming it's one less name to remember. Might just have to remember Gee's name. She's, ah... Gabrielle Mancini. He went home to get some rest. I couldn't have us both looking like fuck. I don't want him to feel like he can't take care of himself just because I'm here."

"At least he listens to you. He stopped eating and just became like a pot plant next to your bed," Ethan revealed with a small shrug. "Soph tried to adopt him, but I'm not sure he knew how to take the big sister treatment. He said he has all brothers. Actually, I got the feeling he didn't feel like he deserved having us making sure he was okay. His family were here, a couple of brothers I think, but then they left. You attracted quite the attention. I was so tempted to draw a moustache on you with a black marker, and maybe an uno-brow. Oh, and Harry Potter glasses. It would have been a keen talking point, at the very least," he added, still smirking cheekily.

Tom gave a small nod. "So I heard. I think I'd maybe do the same, though. I'm not sure I'd be able to leave him either. I'd go crazy..." He closed his eyes as the idea of his and Stuart's positions being switched seemed to increase his physical pain, and hurt his heart. He opened his eyes slowly as he raised his eyebrows. "Soph tried to adopt him? I'm sorry he didn't really take it well. I think he just needs a chance to meet you properly like we talked about. To understand he's a part of our family. I'm glad his brothers came, and that you didn't graffiti my face. He needs his family. I'm still not quite sure how he lives here while they're in Scotland."

Ethan pressed his lips together and nodded. "I think he was homesick. It was when his family left that he kind of shut down. I got the sense he was pretty tight with them. And don't get me wrong, he was okay with us. He talked, but only a little. It was more like he was trying, but he couldn't find the right things to say. Soph's just got the whole natural maternal instinct happening, she wanted to make sure he was okay. But it must have been as weird as fuck trying to deal with all this and let strangers in. I never got the sense he didn't want us around, or he was hating on us. He was just vague. Then there was the whole blaming himself because he hurt you before the accident. Something about the last thing being him walking away from you without barely looking at you. I mean, fuck. Talk about an emotional smack around the head. That's your worst nightmare, you know? Having a run in or a fight with someone, and then them getting hurt before you can fix it. Not that you fought, but it probably felt the same."

Tom pressed his lips together, and frowned a little. "Well, yeah, I suppose so. Only I got it. I understood why he had to bring me in, and why he needed to do his job. I didn't... It hurt, but I knew he wasn't doing it on purpose. I only hoped to hell he knew I hadn't done it. I just wanted there to be some kind of clue that told him it wasn't me, even if everything seemed to be saying it was. Natural maternal instinct, huh? Didn't make you nervous?"

"He was with you, wasn't he? What more was needed for him to know that? He went to his boss, you know. Right after that interview with you, and told her everything. She was the one who told him about your accident. The call came not long after that. Something along those lines. He told us that much, because I maybe got a bit peeved with him when I assumed he was keeping your relationship secret to cover his arse. I only found out subsequently he hadn't kept anything quiet, and I felt like a dick," Ethan admitted sheepishly. He gave a small laugh and shook his head. "No. Why would it? She's always been like that."

"Yes, but when he came to the office to get me, I just... I was worried there'd be doubt. He'd been dead asleep, and he was worried he wouldn't be a good enough alibi. I thought there was a chance he'd wonder if I really had been with him, or something. Cops are supposed to just go with the evidence." He raised his hand to rub it over his hair, and sighed. He already needed a haircut, he could feel it. "He did tell me all that. I'm glad he was honest, even if it might have dropped him in the shit. I don't think I want to keep any of it secret. I just want to be with him."

Ethan rested his elbows on the arm rests of his chair and held his hands up. "Well, he wasn't just a cop in all this, was he? He was your lover. You just told him you loved him, for fuck's sake. No way was he ever going to view it as just another case. I don't think he ever suspected it was you. He wanted to kill the guy when the information started coming to light. He wanted to kill him just from knowing the bloke drove intoxicated with you in the car. It was probably lucky the fucker was at another hospital, because we all wanted to kill him. I dunno, mate. I think you just need to get out of here and connect back with again. Get back on the same page. He might not feel like he is with you yet, with everything going on around you. Everyone wanted a piece of you."

"I don't want a piece of everyone else." Tom tried to shift in the bed, but winced. "I think I'll organise that nurse. See if I can just get home. I just want to be out of this bloody place. And you and Soph need to come over. Maybe once we're away from hospitals and things we can start to reconnect. I don't want him to think I'm just going to be this constant dependent. We haven't quite escaped the whole sickness thing just yet. I just want to be left to hit our stride, you know?"

Ethan narrowed his eyes a little in thought, tilting his head as he looked at Tom seriously. "This is what a relationship is about, mate," he told him quietly. "It's about constant dependence, for whatever the reason. You're hurt, and you're a bit behind the eight ball because of it. Wouldn't you rather be like that with him than on your own? You might not ever hit that same stride again after this, man. You just might be down a notch or two for awhile until you get back on your feet. It's not like you just had a car crash. It was attempted murder. You got accused of murder. Maybe you just need to loosen that grip on your cock a bit and let him take care of you, one hundred percent, without being a stubborn fuck."

Tom looked down as he actually seemed a bit sheepish. "My grip's not that tight... is it?" He cleared his throat and brought his gaze back up to meet Ethan's. "I want to be able to let him take care of me. I really do. I want this with Stuart. So fucking much."

Ethan shrugged a little. "Yeah, I think it is, mate." He pressed his lips together and patted Tom's leg briefly. "Then you gotta learn to talk to him, especially about how you're feeling."

Tom sighed. "I liked it better when we could fuck and talk."

Word Count | 5,551