FIC: Between You And Me 3/5
Title: Between You And Me
Author: Holly Lyn
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairings: Chris/Steve
Word Count: 23,616 (total)
Summary: When friendship becomes something more and is tested by outside influences can two souls remain true or will the fates step in and divide them?
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone ... damn it! It's all fictional and just for fun.
Christian couldn’t remember a time that he had hurt worse in so many places all at the same time. Even his hair hurt thanks to the stitches he’d discovered when he turned his head the wrong way on the pillow. At least the antibiotics seemed to have done their job as he felt a lot better than he had yesterday and the cough and sniffles were all but gone.
Doctor Cameron had already been by. He’d cleared Christian to go home and explained that Steve would be keeping an eye on him as well as dispensing the remainder of his antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, and muscle-relaxer/painkillers for the duration. The doctor also gave him another round of his meds to keep him going until he got home and then dragged Eric with him to go over the release paperwork and obtain all of the needed signatures and contact phone numbers.
Christian found himself alone in his hospital room for the first time since regaining consciousness and he was bored out of his mind. He never realized how god-awful daytime television was and was grateful that once he got home he’d have his own stuff around to keep himself entertained. And Steve would be there as well. He was hoping he could get to the bottom of his friend’s odd behavior. He hadn’t seen Steve since he had bolted from the room yesterday looking like someone had shot his puppy.
No sooner had the thought crossed Christian’s mind to wrap himself in a blanket and go in search of some clothes so he could get out of Dodge, when his door swung open to admit Timothy and Steve, the latter carrying Christian’s old, battered travel duffle bag.
“A little birdie told me that someone is anxious to get out of here,” Timothy said with a smile.
“Don’t know where ya heard that,” Christian chuckled. “Hey, Steve, that for me?”
“Yup, it sure is! I packed the most comfortable stuff I could find for you to wear. Hope it’s okay?” he placed the bag on the bed.
Christian pulled the contents out and held them up one by one. “This is awesome, man. Thanks a lot.” He slowly pushed the blankets down to his waist and eyed the clothes as if they were opponents he needed to face down in a fight.
“Dude, are you sure you’re up to this?” Steve asked in concern.
“Sooner I’m out of here and back home, the better I’ll be, believe me,” Christian grumbled.
“If you say so,” Timothy muttered under his breath.
Watching Christian inch over to the edge of the bed was an excruciating process and Steve wondered whether he was making the right decision. He wasn’t about to argue, though, and moved to offer assistance. Christian shrugged him off forcefully at first but at the twinge of pain that shot through his shoulder he said, “Sorry I’m in a pissy mood, guys. I couldn’t get comfortable last night and I’m hurting like hell.”
“We understand. Would you like some help?” Steve asked in sympathy.
“Yeah, man. Thanks.”
Steve pushed away the rest of the blankets with all the gentleness he could but even the soft brush of cloth over the worst bruises had Christian flinching away. Making sure to keep his touches and actions as impersonal as possible he eased a soft t-shirt on first and added a heavier sweatshirt. Once the sweatshirt was on he stopped to let Christian get his breath back. The injured man had moaned only once when Steve had had to raise his right arm into the sleeves but his face had gone gray and was filmed with sweat. “That was the hard part, Chris. It’s all down hill from here.”
Christian nodded and said, “Let’s get it over with..”
Steve picked up the warm cotton sleep pants and eased them on each leg up to the knees. He knew that Christian would not be able to pull on his own socks or the moccasins and performed that service as well, leaving the left one loose to accommodate the bandaging on his ankle. “You’re gonna have to stand up for the home stretch.”
“Was afraid you were gonna say that.” Christian took a deep breath, leaning on Steve until he was able to balance on his own, and Steve quickly pulled the pants the rest of the way up.
Just as Steve was settling a pale and wobbly Christian carefully back on the bed, the door opened to admit Carly. “I see you’re dressed and ready to go,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be back in a tick,” she winked and disappeared for a few moments. Carly returned pushing a wheelchair, “Even if the hospital allowed it, you couldn’t make it to the car on your own so your chariot awaits. And you get to keep your body pillow as well.”
“Thanks, darlin’,” Christian rasped and limped two steps to the chair, settling in with a sigh of relief. He smiled gratefully as Steve took a brief moment to slide the fingerless gloves on his hands and gently place the warm wool hat over his head carefully avoiding the stitches. When Carly put the pillow in his lap he tucked it around his midsection, closed his eyes, and relaxed as much as his sore body would allow with Carly pushing the chair and Tim and Steve flanking him on either side.
“Come on, Chris, rise and shine,” Steve urged as he tried to squeeze as much of his body into the footwell of the back seat of the car as he could to wake Christian up and get him in the house.
Christian had passed out almost immediately while Steve was still building a comfortable nest around him in the roomy back seat of Tim’s car and he was none to happy about rejoining the world again. “Drop dead, Carlson,” he mumbled and pushed his hair out of his face.
“You slept all the way here,” Tim pointed out. “Don’t you feel any better?”
“I think I’d have to be dead to feel better, man,” Christian grumbled.
“My. We’re cranky, aren’t we?” Steve tried to lighten the mood. Christian raised a single finger in an eloquent, yet silent, response but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a semi-smile. “C’mon, dude, let’s get you inside and settled. Let me put your sling on and we’ll take it slowly.” Tim had Steve’s house keys in one hand and picked up the body pillow and mostly empty duffle bag before heading to the house to get the door open while Steve helped Christian out of the car and supported him on the long walk through the house to Christian’s bedroom.
Christian sank gratefully onto his bed and curled around the body pillow, burying his face in it to muffle the loud groan that escaped his ashen lips. He was shaking like a leaf from head to toe. Steve reached out to brush a comforting hand through his hair but aborted the movement halfway there and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from doing it again. “Chris,” he said softly, “all you have to do is say the word and we’ll take you back to the hospital. That way the doctors will be right there if you keep on feeling this lousy. I’m not sure they should have released you so soon anyway.”
Christian only shifted enough to move the pillow away from his mouth, “Steve, the hospital is part of the reason I’m so fried. Between the nurses comin’ in to check on me every hour or so to make sure I hadn’t died or forgotten who the current president of the fuckin’ country was and the pain every time I tried to move a different part of my body to try to get comfortable, I’d be surprised if I managed a total of an hour’s sleep. Don’t get me started on the food. I’d much rather be here with you takin’ care of me, okay?”
A funny look passed across Christian’s face and Steve watched as he paled even further. “Chris? You okay, dude?”
“I … uh,” Christian swallowed rapidly, “I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna …..”
That was Tim’s cue to move and move quickly. He scooped the wastebasket up from next to the dresser and got it to Christian just as the ill man leaned over the side of the bed and heaved. Steve dashed into the master bathroom and grabbed two hand towels soaking both of them under cool water and bringing them out to wait for Christian to be done.
Christian pushed the hair away from his face and sat up. Steve mirrored what Eric had done for him the previous day as he wiped Christian’s face down with one of the cold towels and applied the second one to the nape of his neck. “Ungh,” Christian sighed. “Thanks, man.”
“That does it. You’re going back to the hospital.”
“No. I’m not,” Christian argued. “I told you I got zero sleep last night. I couldn’t eat the rotten food they had in there and now I’m stressed out, in pain, and doped to the eyeballs. Is it any wonder I fuckin’ puked? If you … if you make me go back, it’s only gonna get worse.” Steve’s head dropped forward in defeat and Timothy quietly backed out of the room carrying the wastebasket . Tim was fairly certain that neither of the men would appreciate an audience if their ‘discussion’ escalated into a real argument.
Timothy had barely finished rinsing out the trashcan when Steve ambled into the kitchen. “He won, didn’t he?” he smirked.
“Yeah,” Steve admitted reluctantly. “But I convinced him to lie down quietly and he promised he’ll yell if he needs anything.”
“Uh huh,” Tim said skeptically.
“Shut up,” Steve pouted and grabbed a bottle of water to bring back to Christian’s room.
>^..^<
The tantalizing smell of brewing coffee coaxed Christian out of sleep the next morning. His nose twitched, his stomach growled loudly, and his bladder began to send him insistent messages regarding the bottles of water he’d consumed with his meds. As he tried to sit up, pain stabbed through his ribs forcing him back down with a groan. That seemed to be the signal for every other bruised and battered portion of his anatomy to set up a chorus of aches and another involuntary moan passed his lips. Footsteps heralded Steve’s arrival with a hot cup of coffee in each hand. “Chris? You up?”
“I don’t think I’d exactly call it ‘up’,” Chris responded with a grimace. “Everything stiffened up overnight, man. I can’t move and it’s sort of imperative.”
Steve chuckled as he put the coffee down, levered Christian to his feet, and helped him shuffle to the bathroom. Once the door closed between them, he sat on the bed and took a pull from his own cup waiting to see if he would be needed further. Looking up as Christian came back into the room, Steve noted his wistful expression and the disgust which crossed his face as he ran a hand through his lank and lifeless hair. “What’s up, Chris?”
A faint blush stained Christian’s cheeks. “Last time I needed help takin’ a bath I was four years old … I feel so gross, man.”
Blinking in stunned surprise, Steve set his coffee down abruptly. This wasn’t something he had considered when he volunteered to help Christian during his recuperation. And given the changed circumstances between them he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to handle it. He cleared his throat, “What do you need help with?” he hoped his voice was steadier than the flock of bats taking wing in his stomach.
“Um …” Christian was clearly as uncomfortable with this as he was. “Getting in and out of the tub for starters … Washing my back …”
Steve held up a hand to stop him. “Okay. One ‘Carlson Deluxe’ coming up.”
“Uh … ‘Carlson Deluxe’?” Christian’s jaw dropped.
“Uh huh. I had a - uh - an old girlfriend who used to love it when I gave her ‘the treatment’.” When it became obvious that Christian was not going to move without encouragement, Steve led the way into the master bathroom and began to fill the over-sized tub. He found a full container of bath gel and poured some in thinking that the silliness of the bubbles might help to diffuse an increasingly awkward situation.
The room was soon warm and steamy and Steve helped to strip and unbandage Christian as quickly and efficiently as he could. His jaw clenched tightly as the full extent of the bruising was revealed and now Christian’s sprained ankle was swollen to the size of a softball. “We’ll get some ice on that as soon as you settle down after breakfast.”
“Sounds good,” Christian agreed and held tightly to Steve’s biceps to keep as much weight off of the ankle as he could while he maneuvered himself into the tub. With a little assistance he was soon seated with hot, soapy water lapping around his chest.
Steve dutifully picked up a washcloth and sponged down Christian’s tanned back. He watched the lines of pain around Christian’s mouth ease imperceptibly and smiled as his friend leaned back and closed his eyes. “Don’t go to sleep in there,” he warned with a smile.
“Yes, mom.”
“I’ll ‘mom’ you in a minute, you dork. Is there anything else you want help with before I go see what we have on tap for breakfast?”
“Um …” Christian hesitated.
“Yes?” Steve asked warily.
“I can’t really move my shoulder and my hair is driving me nuts.”
Steve sighed. “The things I do for you, Kane … Okay … Slide towards the other end of the tub.”
“What?!”
“Would you relax? I need room to lower your head without straining your ribs too much.” Christian nodded and shifted down the tub. Steve held his head steady, avoiding the stitches as best he could, and lowered him to just above the water. He cupped Christian’s skull in one hand and wet the dark locks thoroughly before sitting him back up and grabbing the shampoo from the shelf over the faucet.
Taking great care not to splash shampoo in his friend’s eyes, or re-open the stitches, Steve worked the shampoo into a rich, thick lather and gently massaged the scalp underneath. He scanned the countertop and saw the large plastic cup that was holding Christian’s toothbrush. Rinsing it out first, he brought it over to the tub and filled it with warm, clean water from the faucet and poured it over Christian’s head. Steve repeated the process several times stroking through the water-logged curls, rinsing them clean while holding Christian’s head securely to stop him from sliding completely under the water.
Steve found himself enjoying the different sensations as the shampoo washed away. He was fascinated by the way the silken strands molded themselves around Christian’s face and clung to his own fingers as he gingerly combed through it. Shaking his head to clear it, Steve reached for the shelf again to bring over Christian’s disposable razor and shaving soap.
Christian didn’t even open his eyes as Steve lathered his face and made the first stroke up his throat. He just sighed and sank deeper into the water. The ‘Carlson Deluxe’ was something he could get used to very quickly. “Mmmm, feels good,” he purred. “Hey, don’t forget to wash behind my ears long as you’re back there, Steve.”
Steve snorted and flicked the most accessible earlobe with his finger. He rinsed the dregs of soap from Christian’s face and helped him sit upright. Yanking the plug free he held out a huge fluffy bath towel. “Damn!” Christian cursed. “A little help here?” he asked and looked up at Steve. Draping the towel around Christian’s shoulders, Steve wrapped his arms around Christian’s waist and shifted his own weight to lift the injured man out of the tub and settle him on the closed toilet seat lid.
“Hang on while I grab a towel for your hair.” Steve pulled a second towel off the rack. He began another soothing massage on the dripping hair as Christian patted himself dry and tied the towel around his waist.
Christian sat quietly as Steve re-bandaged his ribs and ankle and helped him into clean boxers, sweat pants, thick socks, and a fleecy zip-up hoodie. He couldn’t hide his astonishment, however when Steve picked up one of his combs and began to ease the tangles from his hair. “More of the ‘Carlson Deluxe’?” he teased gently.
“Just don’t get used to this, your highness. As soon as your butt’s out of traction, so to speak, this slave is going to stage a revolt,” Steve responded sternly as he concentrated on his task but when their eyes met in the slowly clearing mirror he was smiling shyly.
>^..^<
The rest of the day passed quietly for both men. Christian spent a lot of it asleep as he let his exhausted body continue the healing process. When he woke up he would take a slow amble through the house to keep his muscles from seizing up again but he would soon return to his nest of blankets and cushions on the couch with his ankle elevated and occasionally iced.
Steve investigated the bookshelves and commandeered one of the recliners with his shoes off and a few choices he thought might be interesting. He was perfectly content to sit reading and keeping an eye on Christian as the other man napped his way through the day. He was privately amused to see a Kane who wasn’t racing from one project to the next in order to keep everything he tried to juggle in motion.
It was early evening when Christian finally broke the companionable silence. “If I don’t stay awake for at least a little while I’m never gonna sleep through the night.” He rubbed at his eyes and stretched some kinks out of his back with a slight ‘ouch’ as the muscles under his ribs protested the movement.
“Why don’t you try watching something on TV or pick a movie out.” Steve stood and stretched himself. “How about I put a couple of chops under the broiler for dinner and then we can fire up the air popper and do a movie in style?”
“I think I can do that.”
“And don’t forget …”
“ … To take your pills,” Christian chimed in the last half of the sentence and sighed. “I was wrong, you know.”
Steve stopped in the doorway between the entertainment room and the kitchen, “About what?”
“You’re way worse than my mama ever was,” Christian chuckled and followed him into the kitchen.
=^..^=
“Aliens!” Christian directed towards the kitchen.
Steve wandered in with a huge bowl of buttery popcorn. “That sounds good.”
“We have a winner!” Christian grinned and slid the movie into the DVD player before joining Steve on the couch. “It don’t get much better than this, man. Movies, popcorn, and a good friend to share them with.”
The simple statement caught Steve off guard. Even though he knew that Christian had forgotten where their relationship had been heading, to hear it spoken out loud like that sent a twinge of pain through his already aching heart. He swallowed down the hurt and simply said, “Yeah, Chris, it’s great!”
Part of the way through the movie Steve noticed Christian rubbing his eyes continually. “Headache still bugging you?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Christian confirmed and knuckled his eyes again. “Thought it’d go away if I relaxed and took more pain pills but it’s gotten worse.”
Steve scooted to the far end of the sofa and crossed his legs, placing a pillow in the valley they formed. “Lie down and put your head in my lap,” he instructed. Christian’s raised eyebrows expressed doubts the smaller man did not voice. “I’d like to try a little relaxation technique I learned from a friend in college. He was minoring in physio-therapy and used to practice on me. It’s cool, dude.” Christian still looked skeptical but propped his injured ankle on the other armrest and lay back easing his head back on the pillow. Steve placed his hands gently on Christian’s shoulders and felt the bunching muscles beneath his hands. “Jesus, Kane, I’m not gonna strangle you. Will you loosen up?”
Christian looked up at him guiltily. “Sorry, man. This is just a bit weird, okay?” He took several breaths and closed his eyes.
Steve could still see the erratic pulse beating in the hollow of Christian’s throat but it was gradually slowing down and the weight in his lap increased as Christian let himself unwind. “That’s better,” he said and began to stroke his fingers lightly across Christian’s forehead. He let his fingertips pick up the sensations of the smooth skin; the tension lines radiating up from between Christian’s eyebrows. His hands drifted lower, down the other man’s face towards his high cheekbones, and he began tracing a slow swathe from the center of Christian’s forehead down to his jawline, paying special attention to the shallow depression of his temples.
“Mmmmmm,” Christian rumbled deep in his throat. “Steve, that feels fantastic.” His words were slurring as he relaxed even further into the tranquilizing feeling of the feather-light touches skimming across his skull. Steve used his thumbs to keep up a gentle rhythm on Christian’s temples, but the rest of his fingers drifted down through his hair to the corded muscles in his neck and he began a massage similar to the one Christian had enjoyed when Steve had washed his hair earlier.
Steve smiled as Christian gave himself up totally to the soothing feeling, going completely boneless under his touch for a full fifteen minutes. “How’s the head feel?” he eventually asked in a voice just above a whisper.
“Hnnnh?” Christian opened eyes which were hazy from relaxation. “Better. Thanks, man.”
“Don’t thank me yet. We’re not finished.” Steve helped Christian sit up and raised an admonishing finger. “Stay here.”
“Uh huh,” Chris yawned and tried to refocus on the movie. Ripley was having a quiet mother/daughter moment with the cute, non-annoying kid but nothing really exciting was happening.
Steve returned carrying towels and a tube of the liniment that Doctor Cameron had given them. He put them on the floor and added some of the cushions from the couch to his supplies. “I think part of your problem is that you’re wound tighter than a spring. I wanna give you a rubdown with the stuff the doc gave me for your bruises. It should also help loosen up the rest of your muscles; you’ve probably been carrying yourself stiffly to compensate for the injuries and you threw everything else out of whack, too.”
“Okay,” Christian agreed easily and helped as much as he could when Steve stripped him down to his boxers and unwound the bandages from his chest.
“You need to lay on your stomach first,” Steve instructed as he covered the cushions with the towels to keep from getting the crème all over the place. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable and I’ll grab more cushions to prop you up.” Christian nodded and accepted help to get himself into a prone position on the floor. Steve was careful not to move him too quickly or make him twist suddenly and the maneuver was accomplished more or less painlessly. “You want a pillow under your head?”
“No. ‘m fine just the way I am,” Christian responded resting his chin on his left wrist so he could watch the movie while Steve worked on him.
“Say something if this is too much.” At Christian’s nod, Steve warmed some of the liniment in his hands and began to spread it over Christian’s back and arms. To both of their surprise the ointment had a pleasant baby powder scent instead of the astringent medicine smell usually associated with muscle rubs. They inhaled deeply and sighed at the same time sending Christian into a fit of giggles. “Ow. Ow!” he whimpered as the spasms hit his abused muscles.
Steve kept up his stroking motion making sure all of the excess crème was smoothed into Christian’s back and shoulders before giving the same attention to his legs. “Okay, Chris, we need to get you over on your back. Any suggestions?”
“Um, yeah.” Pushing himself up gingerly to lie on his left side, Chris rolled to his back with a slight ‘oof’ sound.
Steve chuckled. “Very graceful. Ready for the flip side?” Christian nodded and closed his eyes.
Steve went back to work again; he paid special attention to the bruising around Christian’s ribs and his right hip which had taken the brunt of the initial contact with the stunt car. He was pleased to note that he didn’t seem to be causing his friend any additional discomfort with his ministrations. His own emotional turmoil was stomped down mercilessly as he performed this very intimate favor. It had no place in their current circumstances and he wasn’t about to give away the fact that he was dying inside while Christian had no idea why.
Finally finished, Steve wiped his hands on one of the left-over towels. “I’ll help you back into your sweats after I wash my hands. Should I make up an ice pack for your ankle while I’m in the kitchen?”
“I guess,” Christian replied and stretched as far as he could marveling at the difference he could feel in his joints. “Hey, Steve? I really appreciate all the stuff you’re doin’ for me. You’re really going above and beyond, man.”
“Don’t mention it, Chris,” Steve called from the kitchen. “I’m sure you’d do the same for me if the circumstances were reversed.” He swallowed the lump that was threatening his vocal chords.
Steve returned with the ice pack and got Christian dressed and secured on the couch before he cleared the towels, liniment and cushions from the middle of the floor. Christian took that opportunity to back the DVD up to where Ripley and Hicks were headed out in search of Newt and the two men settled in to watch the rest of the movie in an easy, relaxed silence.
>^..^<
Christian came awake suddenly with a shout and sat upright in his bed. His face was covered with sweat-matted hair and his heart was pounding like crazy. He heard the thud of bare feet in the hall and Steve burst through his door with his own hair in complete disarray. “Chris?!” Steve asked in concern.
“Sorry, man,” he panted. “Was a dream … I think. Unless … did I get hit by the stunt car?” he pushed the hair out of his eyes and squinted at the other man.
“You remembered?” Steve said cautiously, hopefully.
“So … I did?” Christian questioned again.
“Afraid so, dude,” Steve confirmed.
“Crap! Is David all right?” Christian was concerned for the guy who’d been driving the car.
“Pretty much,” Steve reassured him. “He was a little shook up but no injuries.”
Christian sighed. “That’s good to know. When do they want us to try to shoot the stunt again? Or didn’t they tell you.”
“I talked to John a little yesterday and he said they were going to do it today and use a stunt guy with a different angle so ‘Eliot’s’ face wasn’t visible.”
“Huh!” Christian huffed. “Guess I’m done for now then, huh?”
“Um … yeah,” Steve said wondering where this was going.
“Damn it! We had a gig at Dante’s last night, didn’t we?”
“Eric cancelled everything we had on the books for the next couple weeks.”
“Shit! I’m sorry, man. Got you and the guys up here for nothing,” Christian hung his head.
Steve felt like someone had punched him in the heart. So Christian hadn’t gotten all of his memories back. But he was still determined to continue on with his plan. “It’s okay, Chris. They were all able to get flights back home yesterday … even Eric. I told him I’d let him know how you were doing.”
“You’re the best,” Chris smiled.
Steve tried to smile back but he knew it never reached his eyes. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot.”
“Steve?” Christian questioned. He was more alert now and had a feeling something wasn’t right. “What’s up, man?” He noticed that even though it looked like Steve had been in bed, his eyes were bloodshot with heavy dark circles under them.
“Uh … nothing. I’m just tired. It’s been a stressful couple of days, you know?” Steve lied and passed a hand over his face. “If you’re okay, I think I’ll head back to bed.”
Christian frowned but he obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of Steve tonight. Maybe after the other man got some rest he’d be more willing to open up about whatever was bothering him.
He settled down and it didn’t take long for him to fall back to sleep.
>^..^< >^..^< >^..^< >^..^<
http://hollylyn1217.livejournal.com/97224.html
http://hollylyn1217.livejournal.com/97564.html
Author: Holly Lyn
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairings: Chris/Steve
Word Count: 23,616 (total)
Summary: When friendship becomes something more and is tested by outside influences can two souls remain true or will the fates step in and divide them?
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone ... damn it! It's all fictional and just for fun.
Christian couldn’t remember a time that he had hurt worse in so many places all at the same time. Even his hair hurt thanks to the stitches he’d discovered when he turned his head the wrong way on the pillow. At least the antibiotics seemed to have done their job as he felt a lot better than he had yesterday and the cough and sniffles were all but gone.
Doctor Cameron had already been by. He’d cleared Christian to go home and explained that Steve would be keeping an eye on him as well as dispensing the remainder of his antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, and muscle-relaxer/painkillers for the duration. The doctor also gave him another round of his meds to keep him going until he got home and then dragged Eric with him to go over the release paperwork and obtain all of the needed signatures and contact phone numbers.
Christian found himself alone in his hospital room for the first time since regaining consciousness and he was bored out of his mind. He never realized how god-awful daytime television was and was grateful that once he got home he’d have his own stuff around to keep himself entertained. And Steve would be there as well. He was hoping he could get to the bottom of his friend’s odd behavior. He hadn’t seen Steve since he had bolted from the room yesterday looking like someone had shot his puppy.
No sooner had the thought crossed Christian’s mind to wrap himself in a blanket and go in search of some clothes so he could get out of Dodge, when his door swung open to admit Timothy and Steve, the latter carrying Christian’s old, battered travel duffle bag.
“A little birdie told me that someone is anxious to get out of here,” Timothy said with a smile.
“Don’t know where ya heard that,” Christian chuckled. “Hey, Steve, that for me?”
“Yup, it sure is! I packed the most comfortable stuff I could find for you to wear. Hope it’s okay?” he placed the bag on the bed.
Christian pulled the contents out and held them up one by one. “This is awesome, man. Thanks a lot.” He slowly pushed the blankets down to his waist and eyed the clothes as if they were opponents he needed to face down in a fight.
“Dude, are you sure you’re up to this?” Steve asked in concern.
“Sooner I’m out of here and back home, the better I’ll be, believe me,” Christian grumbled.
“If you say so,” Timothy muttered under his breath.
Watching Christian inch over to the edge of the bed was an excruciating process and Steve wondered whether he was making the right decision. He wasn’t about to argue, though, and moved to offer assistance. Christian shrugged him off forcefully at first but at the twinge of pain that shot through his shoulder he said, “Sorry I’m in a pissy mood, guys. I couldn’t get comfortable last night and I’m hurting like hell.”
“We understand. Would you like some help?” Steve asked in sympathy.
“Yeah, man. Thanks.”
Steve pushed away the rest of the blankets with all the gentleness he could but even the soft brush of cloth over the worst bruises had Christian flinching away. Making sure to keep his touches and actions as impersonal as possible he eased a soft t-shirt on first and added a heavier sweatshirt. Once the sweatshirt was on he stopped to let Christian get his breath back. The injured man had moaned only once when Steve had had to raise his right arm into the sleeves but his face had gone gray and was filmed with sweat. “That was the hard part, Chris. It’s all down hill from here.”
Christian nodded and said, “Let’s get it over with..”
Steve picked up the warm cotton sleep pants and eased them on each leg up to the knees. He knew that Christian would not be able to pull on his own socks or the moccasins and performed that service as well, leaving the left one loose to accommodate the bandaging on his ankle. “You’re gonna have to stand up for the home stretch.”
“Was afraid you were gonna say that.” Christian took a deep breath, leaning on Steve until he was able to balance on his own, and Steve quickly pulled the pants the rest of the way up.
Just as Steve was settling a pale and wobbly Christian carefully back on the bed, the door opened to admit Carly. “I see you’re dressed and ready to go,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be back in a tick,” she winked and disappeared for a few moments. Carly returned pushing a wheelchair, “Even if the hospital allowed it, you couldn’t make it to the car on your own so your chariot awaits. And you get to keep your body pillow as well.”
“Thanks, darlin’,” Christian rasped and limped two steps to the chair, settling in with a sigh of relief. He smiled gratefully as Steve took a brief moment to slide the fingerless gloves on his hands and gently place the warm wool hat over his head carefully avoiding the stitches. When Carly put the pillow in his lap he tucked it around his midsection, closed his eyes, and relaxed as much as his sore body would allow with Carly pushing the chair and Tim and Steve flanking him on either side.
“Come on, Chris, rise and shine,” Steve urged as he tried to squeeze as much of his body into the footwell of the back seat of the car as he could to wake Christian up and get him in the house.
Christian had passed out almost immediately while Steve was still building a comfortable nest around him in the roomy back seat of Tim’s car and he was none to happy about rejoining the world again. “Drop dead, Carlson,” he mumbled and pushed his hair out of his face.
“You slept all the way here,” Tim pointed out. “Don’t you feel any better?”
“I think I’d have to be dead to feel better, man,” Christian grumbled.
“My. We’re cranky, aren’t we?” Steve tried to lighten the mood. Christian raised a single finger in an eloquent, yet silent, response but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a semi-smile. “C’mon, dude, let’s get you inside and settled. Let me put your sling on and we’ll take it slowly.” Tim had Steve’s house keys in one hand and picked up the body pillow and mostly empty duffle bag before heading to the house to get the door open while Steve helped Christian out of the car and supported him on the long walk through the house to Christian’s bedroom.
Christian sank gratefully onto his bed and curled around the body pillow, burying his face in it to muffle the loud groan that escaped his ashen lips. He was shaking like a leaf from head to toe. Steve reached out to brush a comforting hand through his hair but aborted the movement halfway there and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from doing it again. “Chris,” he said softly, “all you have to do is say the word and we’ll take you back to the hospital. That way the doctors will be right there if you keep on feeling this lousy. I’m not sure they should have released you so soon anyway.”
Christian only shifted enough to move the pillow away from his mouth, “Steve, the hospital is part of the reason I’m so fried. Between the nurses comin’ in to check on me every hour or so to make sure I hadn’t died or forgotten who the current president of the fuckin’ country was and the pain every time I tried to move a different part of my body to try to get comfortable, I’d be surprised if I managed a total of an hour’s sleep. Don’t get me started on the food. I’d much rather be here with you takin’ care of me, okay?”
A funny look passed across Christian’s face and Steve watched as he paled even further. “Chris? You okay, dude?”
“I … uh,” Christian swallowed rapidly, “I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna …..”
That was Tim’s cue to move and move quickly. He scooped the wastebasket up from next to the dresser and got it to Christian just as the ill man leaned over the side of the bed and heaved. Steve dashed into the master bathroom and grabbed two hand towels soaking both of them under cool water and bringing them out to wait for Christian to be done.
Christian pushed the hair away from his face and sat up. Steve mirrored what Eric had done for him the previous day as he wiped Christian’s face down with one of the cold towels and applied the second one to the nape of his neck. “Ungh,” Christian sighed. “Thanks, man.”
“That does it. You’re going back to the hospital.”
“No. I’m not,” Christian argued. “I told you I got zero sleep last night. I couldn’t eat the rotten food they had in there and now I’m stressed out, in pain, and doped to the eyeballs. Is it any wonder I fuckin’ puked? If you … if you make me go back, it’s only gonna get worse.” Steve’s head dropped forward in defeat and Timothy quietly backed out of the room carrying the wastebasket . Tim was fairly certain that neither of the men would appreciate an audience if their ‘discussion’ escalated into a real argument.
Timothy had barely finished rinsing out the trashcan when Steve ambled into the kitchen. “He won, didn’t he?” he smirked.
“Yeah,” Steve admitted reluctantly. “But I convinced him to lie down quietly and he promised he’ll yell if he needs anything.”
“Uh huh,” Tim said skeptically.
“Shut up,” Steve pouted and grabbed a bottle of water to bring back to Christian’s room.
>^..^<
The tantalizing smell of brewing coffee coaxed Christian out of sleep the next morning. His nose twitched, his stomach growled loudly, and his bladder began to send him insistent messages regarding the bottles of water he’d consumed with his meds. As he tried to sit up, pain stabbed through his ribs forcing him back down with a groan. That seemed to be the signal for every other bruised and battered portion of his anatomy to set up a chorus of aches and another involuntary moan passed his lips. Footsteps heralded Steve’s arrival with a hot cup of coffee in each hand. “Chris? You up?”
“I don’t think I’d exactly call it ‘up’,” Chris responded with a grimace. “Everything stiffened up overnight, man. I can’t move and it’s sort of imperative.”
Steve chuckled as he put the coffee down, levered Christian to his feet, and helped him shuffle to the bathroom. Once the door closed between them, he sat on the bed and took a pull from his own cup waiting to see if he would be needed further. Looking up as Christian came back into the room, Steve noted his wistful expression and the disgust which crossed his face as he ran a hand through his lank and lifeless hair. “What’s up, Chris?”
A faint blush stained Christian’s cheeks. “Last time I needed help takin’ a bath I was four years old … I feel so gross, man.”
Blinking in stunned surprise, Steve set his coffee down abruptly. This wasn’t something he had considered when he volunteered to help Christian during his recuperation. And given the changed circumstances between them he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to handle it. He cleared his throat, “What do you need help with?” he hoped his voice was steadier than the flock of bats taking wing in his stomach.
“Um …” Christian was clearly as uncomfortable with this as he was. “Getting in and out of the tub for starters … Washing my back …”
Steve held up a hand to stop him. “Okay. One ‘Carlson Deluxe’ coming up.”
“Uh … ‘Carlson Deluxe’?” Christian’s jaw dropped.
“Uh huh. I had a - uh - an old girlfriend who used to love it when I gave her ‘the treatment’.” When it became obvious that Christian was not going to move without encouragement, Steve led the way into the master bathroom and began to fill the over-sized tub. He found a full container of bath gel and poured some in thinking that the silliness of the bubbles might help to diffuse an increasingly awkward situation.
The room was soon warm and steamy and Steve helped to strip and unbandage Christian as quickly and efficiently as he could. His jaw clenched tightly as the full extent of the bruising was revealed and now Christian’s sprained ankle was swollen to the size of a softball. “We’ll get some ice on that as soon as you settle down after breakfast.”
“Sounds good,” Christian agreed and held tightly to Steve’s biceps to keep as much weight off of the ankle as he could while he maneuvered himself into the tub. With a little assistance he was soon seated with hot, soapy water lapping around his chest.
Steve dutifully picked up a washcloth and sponged down Christian’s tanned back. He watched the lines of pain around Christian’s mouth ease imperceptibly and smiled as his friend leaned back and closed his eyes. “Don’t go to sleep in there,” he warned with a smile.
“Yes, mom.”
“I’ll ‘mom’ you in a minute, you dork. Is there anything else you want help with before I go see what we have on tap for breakfast?”
“Um …” Christian hesitated.
“Yes?” Steve asked warily.
“I can’t really move my shoulder and my hair is driving me nuts.”
Steve sighed. “The things I do for you, Kane … Okay … Slide towards the other end of the tub.”
“What?!”
“Would you relax? I need room to lower your head without straining your ribs too much.” Christian nodded and shifted down the tub. Steve held his head steady, avoiding the stitches as best he could, and lowered him to just above the water. He cupped Christian’s skull in one hand and wet the dark locks thoroughly before sitting him back up and grabbing the shampoo from the shelf over the faucet.
Taking great care not to splash shampoo in his friend’s eyes, or re-open the stitches, Steve worked the shampoo into a rich, thick lather and gently massaged the scalp underneath. He scanned the countertop and saw the large plastic cup that was holding Christian’s toothbrush. Rinsing it out first, he brought it over to the tub and filled it with warm, clean water from the faucet and poured it over Christian’s head. Steve repeated the process several times stroking through the water-logged curls, rinsing them clean while holding Christian’s head securely to stop him from sliding completely under the water.
Steve found himself enjoying the different sensations as the shampoo washed away. He was fascinated by the way the silken strands molded themselves around Christian’s face and clung to his own fingers as he gingerly combed through it. Shaking his head to clear it, Steve reached for the shelf again to bring over Christian’s disposable razor and shaving soap.
Christian didn’t even open his eyes as Steve lathered his face and made the first stroke up his throat. He just sighed and sank deeper into the water. The ‘Carlson Deluxe’ was something he could get used to very quickly. “Mmmm, feels good,” he purred. “Hey, don’t forget to wash behind my ears long as you’re back there, Steve.”
Steve snorted and flicked the most accessible earlobe with his finger. He rinsed the dregs of soap from Christian’s face and helped him sit upright. Yanking the plug free he held out a huge fluffy bath towel. “Damn!” Christian cursed. “A little help here?” he asked and looked up at Steve. Draping the towel around Christian’s shoulders, Steve wrapped his arms around Christian’s waist and shifted his own weight to lift the injured man out of the tub and settle him on the closed toilet seat lid.
“Hang on while I grab a towel for your hair.” Steve pulled a second towel off the rack. He began another soothing massage on the dripping hair as Christian patted himself dry and tied the towel around his waist.
Christian sat quietly as Steve re-bandaged his ribs and ankle and helped him into clean boxers, sweat pants, thick socks, and a fleecy zip-up hoodie. He couldn’t hide his astonishment, however when Steve picked up one of his combs and began to ease the tangles from his hair. “More of the ‘Carlson Deluxe’?” he teased gently.
“Just don’t get used to this, your highness. As soon as your butt’s out of traction, so to speak, this slave is going to stage a revolt,” Steve responded sternly as he concentrated on his task but when their eyes met in the slowly clearing mirror he was smiling shyly.
>^..^<
The rest of the day passed quietly for both men. Christian spent a lot of it asleep as he let his exhausted body continue the healing process. When he woke up he would take a slow amble through the house to keep his muscles from seizing up again but he would soon return to his nest of blankets and cushions on the couch with his ankle elevated and occasionally iced.
Steve investigated the bookshelves and commandeered one of the recliners with his shoes off and a few choices he thought might be interesting. He was perfectly content to sit reading and keeping an eye on Christian as the other man napped his way through the day. He was privately amused to see a Kane who wasn’t racing from one project to the next in order to keep everything he tried to juggle in motion.
It was early evening when Christian finally broke the companionable silence. “If I don’t stay awake for at least a little while I’m never gonna sleep through the night.” He rubbed at his eyes and stretched some kinks out of his back with a slight ‘ouch’ as the muscles under his ribs protested the movement.
“Why don’t you try watching something on TV or pick a movie out.” Steve stood and stretched himself. “How about I put a couple of chops under the broiler for dinner and then we can fire up the air popper and do a movie in style?”
“I think I can do that.”
“And don’t forget …”
“ … To take your pills,” Christian chimed in the last half of the sentence and sighed. “I was wrong, you know.”
Steve stopped in the doorway between the entertainment room and the kitchen, “About what?”
“You’re way worse than my mama ever was,” Christian chuckled and followed him into the kitchen.
=^..^=
“Aliens!” Christian directed towards the kitchen.
Steve wandered in with a huge bowl of buttery popcorn. “That sounds good.”
“We have a winner!” Christian grinned and slid the movie into the DVD player before joining Steve on the couch. “It don’t get much better than this, man. Movies, popcorn, and a good friend to share them with.”
The simple statement caught Steve off guard. Even though he knew that Christian had forgotten where their relationship had been heading, to hear it spoken out loud like that sent a twinge of pain through his already aching heart. He swallowed down the hurt and simply said, “Yeah, Chris, it’s great!”
Part of the way through the movie Steve noticed Christian rubbing his eyes continually. “Headache still bugging you?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Christian confirmed and knuckled his eyes again. “Thought it’d go away if I relaxed and took more pain pills but it’s gotten worse.”
Steve scooted to the far end of the sofa and crossed his legs, placing a pillow in the valley they formed. “Lie down and put your head in my lap,” he instructed. Christian’s raised eyebrows expressed doubts the smaller man did not voice. “I’d like to try a little relaxation technique I learned from a friend in college. He was minoring in physio-therapy and used to practice on me. It’s cool, dude.” Christian still looked skeptical but propped his injured ankle on the other armrest and lay back easing his head back on the pillow. Steve placed his hands gently on Christian’s shoulders and felt the bunching muscles beneath his hands. “Jesus, Kane, I’m not gonna strangle you. Will you loosen up?”
Christian looked up at him guiltily. “Sorry, man. This is just a bit weird, okay?” He took several breaths and closed his eyes.
Steve could still see the erratic pulse beating in the hollow of Christian’s throat but it was gradually slowing down and the weight in his lap increased as Christian let himself unwind. “That’s better,” he said and began to stroke his fingers lightly across Christian’s forehead. He let his fingertips pick up the sensations of the smooth skin; the tension lines radiating up from between Christian’s eyebrows. His hands drifted lower, down the other man’s face towards his high cheekbones, and he began tracing a slow swathe from the center of Christian’s forehead down to his jawline, paying special attention to the shallow depression of his temples.
“Mmmmmm,” Christian rumbled deep in his throat. “Steve, that feels fantastic.” His words were slurring as he relaxed even further into the tranquilizing feeling of the feather-light touches skimming across his skull. Steve used his thumbs to keep up a gentle rhythm on Christian’s temples, but the rest of his fingers drifted down through his hair to the corded muscles in his neck and he began a massage similar to the one Christian had enjoyed when Steve had washed his hair earlier.
Steve smiled as Christian gave himself up totally to the soothing feeling, going completely boneless under his touch for a full fifteen minutes. “How’s the head feel?” he eventually asked in a voice just above a whisper.
“Hnnnh?” Christian opened eyes which were hazy from relaxation. “Better. Thanks, man.”
“Don’t thank me yet. We’re not finished.” Steve helped Christian sit up and raised an admonishing finger. “Stay here.”
“Uh huh,” Chris yawned and tried to refocus on the movie. Ripley was having a quiet mother/daughter moment with the cute, non-annoying kid but nothing really exciting was happening.
Steve returned carrying towels and a tube of the liniment that Doctor Cameron had given them. He put them on the floor and added some of the cushions from the couch to his supplies. “I think part of your problem is that you’re wound tighter than a spring. I wanna give you a rubdown with the stuff the doc gave me for your bruises. It should also help loosen up the rest of your muscles; you’ve probably been carrying yourself stiffly to compensate for the injuries and you threw everything else out of whack, too.”
“Okay,” Christian agreed easily and helped as much as he could when Steve stripped him down to his boxers and unwound the bandages from his chest.
“You need to lay on your stomach first,” Steve instructed as he covered the cushions with the towels to keep from getting the crème all over the place. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable and I’ll grab more cushions to prop you up.” Christian nodded and accepted help to get himself into a prone position on the floor. Steve was careful not to move him too quickly or make him twist suddenly and the maneuver was accomplished more or less painlessly. “You want a pillow under your head?”
“No. ‘m fine just the way I am,” Christian responded resting his chin on his left wrist so he could watch the movie while Steve worked on him.
“Say something if this is too much.” At Christian’s nod, Steve warmed some of the liniment in his hands and began to spread it over Christian’s back and arms. To both of their surprise the ointment had a pleasant baby powder scent instead of the astringent medicine smell usually associated with muscle rubs. They inhaled deeply and sighed at the same time sending Christian into a fit of giggles. “Ow. Ow!” he whimpered as the spasms hit his abused muscles.
Steve kept up his stroking motion making sure all of the excess crème was smoothed into Christian’s back and shoulders before giving the same attention to his legs. “Okay, Chris, we need to get you over on your back. Any suggestions?”
“Um, yeah.” Pushing himself up gingerly to lie on his left side, Chris rolled to his back with a slight ‘oof’ sound.
Steve chuckled. “Very graceful. Ready for the flip side?” Christian nodded and closed his eyes.
Steve went back to work again; he paid special attention to the bruising around Christian’s ribs and his right hip which had taken the brunt of the initial contact with the stunt car. He was pleased to note that he didn’t seem to be causing his friend any additional discomfort with his ministrations. His own emotional turmoil was stomped down mercilessly as he performed this very intimate favor. It had no place in their current circumstances and he wasn’t about to give away the fact that he was dying inside while Christian had no idea why.
Finally finished, Steve wiped his hands on one of the left-over towels. “I’ll help you back into your sweats after I wash my hands. Should I make up an ice pack for your ankle while I’m in the kitchen?”
“I guess,” Christian replied and stretched as far as he could marveling at the difference he could feel in his joints. “Hey, Steve? I really appreciate all the stuff you’re doin’ for me. You’re really going above and beyond, man.”
“Don’t mention it, Chris,” Steve called from the kitchen. “I’m sure you’d do the same for me if the circumstances were reversed.” He swallowed the lump that was threatening his vocal chords.
Steve returned with the ice pack and got Christian dressed and secured on the couch before he cleared the towels, liniment and cushions from the middle of the floor. Christian took that opportunity to back the DVD up to where Ripley and Hicks were headed out in search of Newt and the two men settled in to watch the rest of the movie in an easy, relaxed silence.
>^..^<
Christian came awake suddenly with a shout and sat upright in his bed. His face was covered with sweat-matted hair and his heart was pounding like crazy. He heard the thud of bare feet in the hall and Steve burst through his door with his own hair in complete disarray. “Chris?!” Steve asked in concern.
“Sorry, man,” he panted. “Was a dream … I think. Unless … did I get hit by the stunt car?” he pushed the hair out of his eyes and squinted at the other man.
“You remembered?” Steve said cautiously, hopefully.
“So … I did?” Christian questioned again.
“Afraid so, dude,” Steve confirmed.
“Crap! Is David all right?” Christian was concerned for the guy who’d been driving the car.
“Pretty much,” Steve reassured him. “He was a little shook up but no injuries.”
Christian sighed. “That’s good to know. When do they want us to try to shoot the stunt again? Or didn’t they tell you.”
“I talked to John a little yesterday and he said they were going to do it today and use a stunt guy with a different angle so ‘Eliot’s’ face wasn’t visible.”
“Huh!” Christian huffed. “Guess I’m done for now then, huh?”
“Um … yeah,” Steve said wondering where this was going.
“Damn it! We had a gig at Dante’s last night, didn’t we?”
“Eric cancelled everything we had on the books for the next couple weeks.”
“Shit! I’m sorry, man. Got you and the guys up here for nothing,” Christian hung his head.
Steve felt like someone had punched him in the heart. So Christian hadn’t gotten all of his memories back. But he was still determined to continue on with his plan. “It’s okay, Chris. They were all able to get flights back home yesterday … even Eric. I told him I’d let him know how you were doing.”
“You’re the best,” Chris smiled.
Steve tried to smile back but he knew it never reached his eyes. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot.”
“Steve?” Christian questioned. He was more alert now and had a feeling something wasn’t right. “What’s up, man?” He noticed that even though it looked like Steve had been in bed, his eyes were bloodshot with heavy dark circles under them.
“Uh … nothing. I’m just tired. It’s been a stressful couple of days, you know?” Steve lied and passed a hand over his face. “If you’re okay, I think I’ll head back to bed.”
Christian frowned but he obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of Steve tonight. Maybe after the other man got some rest he’d be more willing to open up about whatever was bothering him.
He settled down and it didn’t take long for him to fall back to sleep.
>^..^< >^..^< >^..^< >^..^<
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