Message in a Bottle

Chapter 8

POV JUSTIN

Okay. I knew I was developing really strong feelings for Brian. Now those feelings are scaring me- I've never felt like this; I want to be with him all the time, I want to please him, I want to talk to him about everything, I want him inside me, I want to touch him and taste him all over-I want him-and I want him to want all the same things with me…

That experience in the bathtub was incredible, and he was so gentle and never pushed. I mean, I know it wasn't sex in the literal sense, but it was my first sexual experience with another man. And I knew before that I wanted to lose my virginity to Brian but you never know how your first sexual partner will be- whether they'll be gentle or just take care of their own needs. I've heard horror stories. And while I suspected Brian would be sensitive and gentle, he has his brash, callous moments- but now I know for sure how Brian will be. I know my first time is going to be beautiful. If he'll do it; but I expect he will.

Brian's in bed dozing as I figure out breakfast. He told me almost immediately before going to bed to stop looking at him all moony-eyed so I'm gonna have to rein it in a little. I know his feelings are growing too, and that scares him to no end- so he's avoiding it. That's okay. I'm onto him.

But still, I can't help this big smile on my face. I focus on breakfast; I decide instead of delivery, I'll go out to a diner and get some food. That way Brian won't have to be rudely awakened by a knock on the door like last night. It really scared him which is no wonder since he got attacked in his sleep fairly often by his father and grandfather. Startling Brian awake is something I will never ever do on purpose. Once I get good at them (I've never done one)- I'll wake him up with blowjobs.

I grab the keys after getting dressed and go out to drive around and find someplace with something that Brian will actually eat. He seems to be such a health nut and he watches his diet very carefully. For such a lean, muscular, slim man, I think it's silly, personally.

I drive everywhere and finally find a whole foods store that has a little restaurant in it. I get him some whole wheat pancakes and syrup and I get the same for myself with organic sausages made from free range pigs or something. I buy a few extra of those just in case Brian feels like some.

I get out to the car and realize I got sort of lost in my search for breakfast- I have no clue where I am. I drive around, looking for something familiar to lead me back to the motel but nothing strikes me. I start to worry. I go into a 7-11 and ask for the Motel 6 and he asks me which *one*. Fuck if I know! I tell him the nearest one and I drive there and it's not it. Fuck! I go in and ask the pimply faced kid behind the counter whether he has a map of the local Motel 6's. It takes him forever to find nothing, and then he finally goes to the manager and comes back with a map of the nearby Motel 6's.

I wish I'd brought my cell, for fuck's sake. I drive around slowly in order to read street signs and hit 3 Motel 6's before FINALLY finding ours and I rush to the room, hoping with all my heart that Brian's still fast asleep when I get in.

I walk in and he's not in bed. "Brian?" I call. I go over to the table and put the breakfast down. "Brian?" I expect he's in the bathroom until I look at it and the door's open and the lights are out in there. I start to panic and I look in every nook and cranny where he could have fallen on the floor- stupidly but desperately I even check under the beds and in the closet.

I freak and rush out of the room and to the front desk. I grab the guy behind the counter by his collar. "Did something happen to the man in 2 B?" I demand, crying.

"Are you Mr. Taylor?" the bored teen asks, not even affected by my grip on his shirt.

I shake him, furious, "YES! Did SOMETHING HAPPEN?" I scream. I vaguely notice people looking over but who the FUCK cares.

"Let me get the manager," he says indifferently. I let go of his collar so he can go find the manager. He no better than shuffles away at a snail's pace.

"FUCK- MOVE IT!" I yell.

He's still unaffected so I jump over the counter, rush past the shithead and find the manager's office and I burst in. There's a guy behind a desk with some chick straddling his lap. "HEY- did something happen to the man in 2B?!?"

They're both startled and the woman scrambles off the guy's lap. He looks at me stunned.

"WELL?" Fuck, I'm so scared and so angry right now- much of the anger is actually directed towards myself for not paying enough attention to where I was going for breakfast and getting lost for so long this morning, but right now, these lazy asses are going to catch the brunt of my anger.

The man clears his throat and collects his wits. "Are you Mr. Taylor?"

I throw my hands up in exasperation. "Of COURSE I'm Mr. Taylor! Who else would I be?"

"Mr. Taylor, please sit down and I'll explain."

I drag a chair over noisily and sit down, thinking it's the only way the guy will tell me anything- even though the last thing I want to do right now is sit.

"Mr. Taylor; apparently, your friend was going to get some ice from the machine and some kids who were running down the corridor accidentally bumped into him and he fell."

I stand up abruptly, causing the chair I'm sitting in to fall backwards. "How is he? Where is he?"

"The ambulance took him to Allegheny General- at first he was in quite a bit of pain, so I think the param-"

I don't bother to listen to the rest; I race out of the office and to my car, thankfully still clutching my keys. I speed about 30 MPH over the limit the whole way to the hospital, which unfortunately or fortunately, I do know how to get to from the highway, which is right next to the Motel. Luckily I'm not pulled over. When I get to the hospital I screech to a halt in some space that may have been reserved or not, I don't care. I leap out of the car and race into the ER entrance and to the nurse's station.

"Brian Kinney!" I say breathlessly. "I need to see Brian Kinney!"

"Sir, calm down."

"NO! I need to see him! See how he is!"

She scans a patient list. "Let me see if I can get a doctor or nurse to come out and talk to you." With that, she gets up and goes behind a curtained off area. The wait for her return is excruciating. Finally, she returns after about 20 years with a man in a white coat - hopefully the doctor.

"Mr. Taylor? I'm Dr. Granby," the man says, holding out his hand and smiling professionally. I shake it impatiently. "Mr. Taylor, Mr. Kinney is awake now and asking for you."

Awake NOW? I think in horror.

"He was pushed pretty hard and in his condition, it complicated his problems. His ankle is now fully broken so we had to put a cast on it. He landed on his knee and sustained a fractured patella, which I'm sorry to say is very painful. Luckily he got here fairly fast and we got him right into x-ray to find the break was clean so we were able to realign the broken bones quickly. He was also lucky that the pieces of bones were lined up well and he didn't need surgery- we just put a cast on him to immobilize the site so the bones don't move. Actually, given the condition he was in, he was relatively lucky. May I ask what happened to him? He looks terrible."

I feel like I'm going to be sick. "Doc, please-not now! Just tell me what the next steps are and let me see him!"

He nods. "We will prescribe some pain relievers, and he will need rest with his leg elevated to reduce potential swelling. Now if the cast begins to feel loose in any way, see your physician (well, see him or her anyway within a few days), he or she will likely replace the cast with a brace to make sure those bones stay in place. Indeed, your physician may encourage Brian to see an Orthopedist who specializes in this sort of situation.

"Crutches will be very necessary, of course. Today, he's a bit groggy and the experience was traumatizing so I'm sending him home in a wheelchair *and* with a pair of crutches for the near future. Crutches right now might make him wobbly and I don't want to risk him falling again.

"While his leg's immobilized, other muscles that are not immobilized should be exercised- they should be flexed. He can do straight leg exercises, lifting his leg in the air as far as comfortable.

"Once the cast and brace come off, he should get ice massages often- unless heat feels better- heat lamps, showers, heating pads etc. may be used. His doctor may make other recommendations as well that you two can discuss down the road- it is highly probable his doctor is going to have him go to physical therapy-you are a couple, correct? I'm sorry if I'm making the wrong-"

"Yes, we are."

"It is possible your doctor can give you some exercises to do with him so you don't have to pay a physical therapist; Mr. Kinney is young--"

"Call him Brian..."

The doctor smiles. "You sound like Mr.-- Er, Like Brian sounds. So, as I was saying Brian is young and indicated he doesn't have insurance. I'm going to recommend to our ER Head that we not charge Brian for his treatment today- if you give me a phone number, I will let you know how it goes. The ER head is a softie, plus he saw Brian when he came in and could see he's been through a lot- he looks like he's been hit by a semi, to be direct. Just a side note- nothing serious- but the ER Head is gay, too; he was immediately smitten with your partner. I guess... I guess... Aw, fuck it. Your Brian is a beautiful man, Justin. I even recognize that- and I'm straight as an arrow."

I smile. I like this doc. "Yeah. Brian's beautiful. He's a battered, beautiful man. Thanks for being so understanding- we've encountered a lot of hosptial personnel in our past who... well, who weren't. Understanding, that is," I say very quietly.

"Well, that's not only unprofessionsal of the hospital employees you've dealt with - it's also inhumane and frankly, just plain wrong."

Yeah. I like this guy.

"So," he continues, "-back to Brian's PT: you two can discuss other possibilities with your doctor down the road- certainly see him or her within the next few days as I said. Also, if questions occur to you after you leave here today, the internet has a wealth of information that can help. Still, consult the doctor to ensure the information you obtain is in tune with his or her treatment plan. Plus, you can always contact me if you need to.

"Finally, he scraped an area over his eye on the side that was already sore- that's not serious medically, and there shouldn't even be a scar later as we mended the area with dissolvable stitches- just a couple. It's just an irritation for him. His back got wrenched pretty badly so make sure he keeps wearing a brace- we've given him a firmer one than he'd had on.

"So that's it, Mr. Taylor-"

"Justin." I say, reminding him.

The doc smiles. "Justin, right- sorry. Justin, I know that's a lot of information. Here are some information sheets that basically summarize what I've said. As soon as Brian woke up- he was unconscious when he came in but not from a head injury- more likely he passed out from pain-" I cringe at that, which he notices; "-I'm sorry to tell you that; but as soon as he woke up he asked for you. We will give you pain meds for him that should be pretty effective; and they luckily won't knock him out to the point that he feels like he's in a complete haze- and you, Mr. Taylor-um- Justin-, won't feel like your companion is completely out of it all the time."

"May I see him, please?" I squeak- I'm scared shitless and feel such pain for Brian. He can't catch a break. Bad choice of words. That's all he catches and it just hurts me so much…

"Of course- I'll take you to him and while you visit I'll get you plenty of meds for him. We'll give you some donated crutches and we'll rent you out a wheelchair, which you may keep for a one time cost for as long as he needs it- do you have room for all this in your car?"

"Probably - folded up in the back seat or maybe the trunk. I have an Audi Quattro 4 door."

"I'm afraid I don't know my cars, but we'll see." He chuckles. "But I am glad it's a 4 door. He'll have to keep that knee straight and elevated if possible- for that ankle too.

"And as soon as he's ready, the discharge papers will be at the front desk. Here's his room, Justin." He gestures to a door. "I'll be back soon. He's not feeling so well, and I gathered from my interactions with him that he can get a bit cranky when he's not feeling well- be patient with him, okay?"

I nod and enter the room. His eyes are closed. "Brian?" I say softly.

His eyes open and I rush over and carefully sit on the bed. "Brian, I'm so sorry about this morning! I got lost on my way back from the diner where I got breakfast…" My eyes fill with tears. I did this to Brian- fuck! Till now, I've been running on adrenaline and haven't thought about it- but I did: I did this to him. "Bri, it's a stupid question- but, how are you? I heard how it happened- had I been there, you'd never have gone to get ice yourself…"

"Justin, it's not your fault. You've been waiting on me hand and foot- and you were doing just that: waiting on me hand and foot by going out to pick up breakfast. So shut up. Don't blame yourself- I probably would have insisted on getting that fucking ice myself anyway, even if you were there. Sunshine, I have been -had been?- cooped up in that room forever it feels like." He smiles weakly and gives my hand a squeeze. "Thanks for coming here to find me and pick me up."

"Of COURSE!" I exclaim. "You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to that fucking motel manager and demand he give us the room for free indefinitely or we'll sue. Then we won't be paying hand over fist and you can recover properly. And my uncle will help us, I think- we're close; I may be able to talk him into not telling my family about where I am- about us; and he should know where we can find a proper physician for you for cheap. Plus one good thing- the doc and nurses here at the hosptial are getting the discharge papers ready right now. You don't have to stay here overnight or have surgery or anything!" Yeah, gee, Justin. I'm sure Brian feels so lucky. Still, I know Brian wouldn't want to stay.

Brian squeezes his eyes closed harder and pushes his head back in the pillow.

"Do you need anything for the pain?"

"No- they've got me on something. I will tell you though- I hit my threshold of pain this morning. Fuckin' knee hurt like a motherfucker." He gives a small smile and reopens his eyes.

I pick up his hand and kiss it. "I'm sorry, Brian. I'm really sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there and I'm sorry it was so painful."

"Shhh. Sunshine, sorry's bullshit. And you did nothing wrong. If you don't shut up about that nonsense, I'm walking out."

"Not likely," I snort. Still, I like that he's kidding around.

The doctor knocks and comes in, holding some papers. "Mr. Kinney-" he holds up a hand like he's stopping himself-"sorry- right, right- that's your father's name. *Brian*, are the meds working to relieve the pain somewhat?"

"Yeah, doc. A little."

"Okay, well I'm giving your partner here a prescription for some pills which should help you for the next week or two. The instructions will be on the bottle. And you said you have meds from the doctor who originally helped you with your ankle and ribs? Use those too, but don't take either together, and space them out according to the instructions. It's a matter of which pills work best in your judgment. But don't double up." He hands me a small piece of white paper and true to doctor form, I can barely read his handwriting. "Doc, is there a pharmacy here I could use? I don't feel like stopping on the way back- Brian needs a bed, not a car seat to spread out on."

"Certainly. Just down the hall to your left."

"Brian, you okay here for a few minutes while I do that?"

"Sure."

I leave the two of them for a few minutes and when I get back, Brian's handing some papers to the doctor- presumably release papers- and then the nurse helps him into a wheelchair. She hands me the crutches the doc is giving us. Brian looks at me once he's settled; "Let's get the fuck out of here," he mutters.

We all say goodbye and the nurse follows me to help Brian to the car- we see that we have to lay him in the back seat since one of his long legs is permanently straight due to the cast immobilizing his knee. We manage to get the crutches and the wheelchair both into the trunk, folding up the chair. It's like a game of Tetris though.

And finally, we leave, Brian muttering obscenities and complaints under his breath in the backseat. I smile to myself- he's ornery alright, but he sure doesn't let anything get him down or seriously depress him.

"So, you're the walking wounded." I grin at him over my shoulder as I pull into a parking spot right next to our motel room.

"Who's walking?"

"Well, now we have crutches so you can quit using that fucking cane." Fuck, I hate that thing…

"I guess the cane didn't survive my fall," he says simply.

"Good." It takes effort, but I unload the wheelchair from the car, get him in the room and on the bed; I elevate his leg with a pillow. I go out and grab the crutches and prop them by the bed.

"Fuck, this sucks," he mutters.

"Yeah, I agree. I'm going to the motel manager's office to lay into him and see about having the room for free indefinitely. I think I intimidated him this morning trying to find out what happened to you. And I'm going to get a few big garbage bags and large rubber bands out of him too, so you can bathe."

He looks at me. "Good. And good idea."

I head over to the office and berate and threaten the fool until he agrees- a lawsuit is too big a deal compared to an indefinitely occupied room- so we get the latter. I'm not so bad at yelling for a 17 year old, if I do say so myself. I get the bags and rubber bands as well. I get back to Brian, grinning. "Ha. He's throwing in free room service too."

Brian chuckles. "And I thought I was the Big Bad Brian- you're Big Bad Bubblebutt."

"In this case, I guess so." 'When it comes to you, Brian, yes. I'm a pit bull.' I think to myself. "Brian, you want something to eat?"

"Stale breakfast food- ugh no."

"No- we can order in. Just try not to doze off- these delivery guys around here like to pound on doors it would seem. Chinese?" It's getting late in the afternoon and I know he's tired; hell, I'm tired. A very late lunch and a nap sounds perfect.

"Sure. But tomorrow morning, let's start taking advantage of that free room service. For Chinese though: Curry shrimp for me, if they have it." He reaches for the TV remote and starts flipping channels while I order. I snuggle up next to him afterwards and he gingerly wraps his arm around me. Looking at the outline from under the blanket, his ankle and one leg are bigger than the other because of his casts on his ankle and knee- and the sight makes me sick. "What do you want to watch?" He asks, noting I'm staring at his lower body through the covers and picking up on how upset it makes me.

"Whatever you want to. I really don't care."

He chooses the news, which quite frankly, is depressing. Murders, killers at large, rapes… "Um. Can we watch something more upbeat?"

He chuckles and flips to some re-run of Dick Van Dyke. Much better. I love this show. "Brian?"

"Hm?"

"What are we going to do?"

"About?"

"You, during the day while I'm at school…" I swear, I'm ready to simply drop out to stay with him.

"I dunno. I'll manage."

I roll my eyes. "Brian, you can hardly move!"

"I have crutches."

"Not acceptable."

He sighs. "Hire someone?"

"Brian, I'm in high school and you're about to go to college. I think we qualify as poor. We already will have enough expenses to figure out anyway. And Daph will cover for me with my folks as far as me staying here with you.

Brian clears his throat like he's not at all impressed with my plan. "Sunshine, how would we have paid for a week here?"

"I have a credit card for emergencies."

"Um, Sunshine- who would get the bill for that?"

"My parents. Oh. Oh, yeah." They'd know I was in a Motel 6 and not at Daph's. "Guess it's good that we're here free now."

"Did you buy food with that?"

"No- I had some cash on me." We both breathe a sigh of relief. Duh. Like there's a credit card fairy paying for my card- what a doofus I can be sometimes. "What will we buy food with from now on though?"

"I have a card in my name. Needed to get one to survive in Ireland. The bills come to my email account, not to my folks," he says. "And I have some friends I can call to help me out while you're gone," I add reluctantly.

"I told you about Ethan," I remind him.

"I really don't think I feel like a total stranger taking care of me when I'm so helpless. Get my address book from my back pack, would you? Maybe if the gang alternate days it won't be so bad. Each one in small doses. Besides, we'll also get free food from my best friend's mother, Deb- she's like my surrogate mother. And she loves to cook and I know from experience that she'll want to fatten you up. She's always claiming I'm too skinny and piles my plate with huge amounts of food."

I bite my tongue- he *is* skinny. Still, I can see he dreads his friends' hovering over him and pitying him. I hand him the book and he puts it on the nightstand, postponing the inevitable I suppose.

Soon the food comes, we eat in relative silence on Brian's bed- the wheelchair is too much of a hassle to bother to take Brian over to eat at the table. Soon we're both dozing in front of the flickering TV, food cartons all over the nightstand. Next thing I know, it's Sunday morning.

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