In Sickness and In Health

Chapter 4

John's POV:

I feel him stir in my arms. He slept, a fitful sleep, but sleep all the same. It's been an exhausting few days, the wedding and now this. My bladder is full but I'll wait until he gets up.

For most of my life I was an only child, never lonely but alone. Until he and Justin exploded into my life. My life has never been quite the same since. Thank God. I never really understood the expression brotherly love, but now I do. If I could take his place in this, I would. But I can't and I refuse to let him go through this alone. I love him with all my heart. I will not leave his side.

"Damn! I gotta pee bad," Brian grumbles. I chuckle as I see his sweat pant clad ass, make a beeline for the bathroom. I know just how he feels.

I hear the toilet flush and then the shower goes on.

"I'll make it quick!" he shouts above the water. I go in to relieve myself and wash up; I'll jump in the shower just as soon as he gets out. We want to be the first ones at the doctor's office.

I'm dying to have a cup of coffee. I know he wants one too but we decide to go to the doctor's office on an empty stomach, just in case the doctor wants to do something. I'll take him to the diner afterwards for a big breakfast. I hope.

"Fuck! I need coffee," Brian grouses as he towels off and begins to rummage around for loose fitting clothes. Does he own anything loose? Maybe his tailored pants but everything else hugs his ass. I asked him why once and he said he likes the reaction he gets from Justin. Those two can't help but tease each other. And they love their sex. Sex, I wonder...not going there.

"Hang on, little bro, you can have all the coffee you want when we're done," I reassure him as I get into the shower. I make this the fastest shower on record.

Brian's POV:

I fucking hate this! I hate sending Justin home. I hate that I scared Bree. And most of all I hate feeling so fucking helpless and in front of my brother. He must think I'm the biggest wuss on the planet. Shit, I slept with my brother, for fuck's sake. I feel.....I have no fucking clue how I feel. Kinda numb but I am so fucking grateful he's here. I really didn't want to do this alone again. Not again.

Shit! I angered too many gods. Got too damn cocky for my own good. I knew it was all too good to be true. Brian fucking Kinney isn't cut out to be happy.

"Brian, you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

John's POV:

So we're here. The office is pleasant enough, the chairs in the waiting room are comfortable. I wait while Brian fills out all the insurance forms. He puts me down as a contact as well as Justin. He wants me to know everything. I feel fidgety; I don't know what to do with my hands. So I pick up a magazine and flip through it. An article about Diabetes and its possible consequences if left untreated nearly makes me lose my lunch. That is if I had eaten anything. I would have to turn to a picture of a diabetic ulcer. I snap the magazine shut. I don't need to see anymore.

"Maybe I should get my blood sugar checked when we go home."

"What?" Brian asks, as he looks at me as if I grew a third eye.

"Nothing. Ignore me," I mutter then I feel myself blush. He stares off into space. I can see a gamut of emotions across his face. Of course, I'm the only one who knows it.

I wonder how long we have to wait.

"Brian, come right in!" the doctor calls out, as Brian stands and the doctor shakes my brother's hand.

"I always cum, doc." The mask goes on, the walls go up and the asshole rears his beautiful head. The doctor ignores it and shows us into his office.

Brian makes the introductions and the doctor begins by putting us at ease.

"I re-read your file before you got here and your latest scan results. Brian, you've been cancer free for twelve years. Your overall health is impeccable so I don't believe this is anything to worry about."

I am about to protest. How can he make that assumption without even examining my brother? But before I can speak, the doctor holds up his hand.

"I fully intend to give you a thorough examination, so do not get your knickers in a bunch," the doctor tells us. I think the doc's been hanging around drama queens too much. "Now tell me in your own words what you felt."

I hear Brian tell the doctor that when he went to use the toilet, he scratched an itch. Or what Brian thought was an itch.

"It felt lumpy, kinda stung, but it was itchy too. And there was blood," Brian whispers then looks down at his boots.

I want to cry.

"All right, then. Let's get you in a gown and on the exam table so I can take a look. John, you can wait here, if you like."

I don't like.

"No!" my brother says. "I want him with me."

The doctor looks at the two of us. I guess he sees the same look on both our faces because he smiles, rolls his eyes a bit then gives us both a shove through the door.

As Brian goes behind a screen to get undressed, Doctor Rayborne moves a chair around so I can sit near the exam table and not be in his way. Brian comes from behind the screen wearing one of those unflattering and totally embarrassing hospital gowns and his Prada boots. He sees the look of curiosity on the doc's face.

"I have no idea what shit's been on this floor and I don't want to know. I'm keeping my boots on!" Brian is quite emphatic about it and the doctor has no intention of arguing. He just pats the table and Brian climbs on...with boots.

I have to chuckle. That's my brother.

Brian's POV:

Okay, so maybe the boots are a bit much, but give me a fucking break. I'm about to find out if I lose my other ball. I'm keeping my fucking boots on!

Doc Rayborne is a good guy. I've been seeing him regularly. He came highly recommended by my surgeon and I like him. He's not bad to look at either. I'd do him if I was still doing tricks. Alas...he's married, I'm married, and he's about to fuck with my balls.

"Shit, Doc, can you at least warm up your hands!?"

"Sorry," he says with a little shrug. Then he rubs his hands together, not an easy thing to do when they're covered in latex but it helps.

John sits quietly by the head of the table. Somehow my hand finds his. I can feel the strength in his hand, callused yet comforting at the same time. He says nothing, but he speaks volumes with his eyes. I never appreciated my brother's eyes before.

Looking at him is like looking in a mirror. I see myself, I see Gus and some of Patrick too. And I see Jack, the Jack that Claire knew, not the one that haunts my worst nightmares. I see his gentle wisdom and I see what I aspire to be.

I close my eyes as the doc has his way with my balls.

"Hmm," I hear the doc say.

"You do know you're holding a legend in your hands," I say with my eyes still closed. "Men have cum just by fondling my dick."

"I'm sure they have," the doc says without missing a beat as he palpates the fake ball.

"Shut up, Brian. The doctor doesn't need a running commentary," John says with little anger in his voice.

"Just making sure he doesn't fuck with the merchandise any more than necessary," I say. The doc drops my balls then covers me with the sheet.

"Stay put, I'll be right back," he says as he stands, taking off his gloves then leaving the room.

"Where am I going to go?" I ask as I lean up on my elbows.

The doctor comes back in a few minutes holding a large tray wrapped in paper. He places the tray on a nearby rolling table and that's when I shut my eyes again.

"Brian, did you eat or drink anything this morning?"

John's POV:

I'm not sure if Brian heard the question or he just can't answer, so I answer for him.

"No, doctor, he didn't."

"That's good. Brian, this is what I'm going to do..."

The doctor goes on and on about this minor procedure. It sounds nasty so I sort of block it all out, focusing my attention on my brother's face. He grunts his permission, groans his acknowledgment of what the doctor says and squeezes his eyes together even tighter. Then I hear the sounds of the doctor opening up the tray and arranging his instruments.

"Brian, you're going to feel a pinch then in a few minutes some numbness. I should be finished in about twenty minutes."

Brian silently nods and squeezes my hand.

He hisses loudly as he's stuck with the needle then curses in several languages that I didn't know he knew. "Fucking son of a bitch," he growls.

"That's the worst of it, Brian," the doctor reassures him.

"No, it's not. The worst thing will be going home to Justin and trying to explain the new piercing in my balls that wasn't there yesterday."

"Brian, making your doctor laugh when he's holding sharp instruments near your genitals is not a good thing."

Brian shuts up.

"Hmm," the doctor mumbles again and then, "this is yucky."

"Yucky? Is this what they teach in medical school nowadays? Yucky? My balls have been called a lot of different things over the years but the adjective, yucky, has never ever been used."

"Shut up, Brian!" both the doctor and myself say. Brian shuts up with a harumph.

In a few minutes I hear the sounds of a spray, a gentle clinking of glass and the lid of a container being screwed on.

"I cleaned up the area and took a specimen. I'll send it to the lab today and put a rush on it. I should have preliminary results for you later this week. Basically it's an ingrown hair that made a small abscess. I cleaned it out and put in a stitch. I'm going to give you antibiotic to take for the next ten days and an antibiotic ointment for you to apply to the area twice a day at least until I see you again."

Brian says nothing.

"Take your time getting dressed. You may feel uncomfortable for about a day or two and there might be some swelling. I'll write out instructions for you. After you get dressed, meet me in my office."

The doctor takes the specimen containers out with him and he calls out for his assistant. Brian hasn't moved.

"Brian, you need help to sit up?" I ask him. I know I'd need help if someone just took a snip out of my balls.

He shakes his head, no.

"Want me to wait outside?"

"No," he whispers softly. He's still on the table, the sheet up to his chin, his boots sticking out at the foot of the table. Then it hits me. I know what he needs.

"Come here, little bro," I murmur, as I reach for him and draw him close to my chest. "It's going to be fine. Just an unruly hair that didn't realize who it was messing with. It's all gone now. After we finish here, I'll take you for a big breakfast."

He leans back and arches a brow. His eyes are red and puffy.

"Fine, I'll eat the big breakfast while you pick all the bacon off my plate, eat your dry fucking toast and suck down a gallon of horrible coffee. How's that sound?"

He smiles that crooked little smile of his. Patrick and Gus have that same smile. I kiss his head.

"Go get dressed before the doctor comes back in here with another sharp instrument."

His eyes widen in horror then he gingerly climbs off the table and hightails it behind the screen.

"Ow, ow ow!" he cries out. "The fucking local is wearing off!"

"Let's see if the doc will write you a prescription for the good drugs."

"Ooooo!"

"Bri, you've been hanging around Emmett far too much!" Brian snorts then giggles. My work here is almost done.

Brian's POV:

"Okay, antibiotics once a day until finished, right?" I ask the doc and he nods. "Gooey cream on my balls twice a day until I see you on Thursday." He nods again. "Any good drugs for all my pain and suffering?"

The doctor doesn't have one of those arching eyebrows but he has one hell of a frown.

"Okay, ixnay on the good drugs." I'm a bit disappointed.

"So what can he take for the pain and swelling?" John asks reasonably.

"Stick with Tylenol for now and I recommend ice packs," the doctor says with a straight face.

"I haven't had to use an ice pack on my balls since...."

"Since Justin last went out of town for a show?" my dear sweet brother supplies.

Asshole. "Fuck. You." I glare at John. He smiles so innocently.

"Gentlemen! And I use the term loosely. Get out! I have legitimately sick patients that need me. I'll see you both on Thursday."

The doctor hands my brother a bag. I assume it's the medications and instructions. He shakes my hand and John's.

"Brian, you call me anytime, if you need to talk to me. And I'll put a rush on the lab. You'll be home for Christmas."

"Thank you," John says. Nothing comes out of my mouth so all I can do is nod.

John's POV:

I grab the bags of 'supplies' and lead Brian out of the office. Drew was good enough to loan us his Hummer so we slowly walk over to where it's parked.

"Brian, I could have brought it closer to the office."

"I'm not an invalid; I can walk," he states. He's walking, all right, more like hobbling. He's a stubborn son of a bitch.

"Fine. I'm not going to argue with you. You'll be more pleasant when you get some coffee in you."

"Pleasant? I am so fucking pleasant that people can't stand it!"

"You go on believing that. Contrary to popular belief, the world does not revolve around you," I grumble. I need coffee too.

"Since when?" he asks then almost slips on a patch of ice. "Fucking ow!" I quickly grab him before he lands on the cement and we make it to the Hummer.

"Diner?" I ask him. We both need some place familiar and relatively safe.

"Yeah, I need some of Debbie's horrible coffee." Brian-speak for he needs Debbie.

"Okay, we'll be there soon." We drive to the diner in silence.

*****

"Sweetheart! You sit wherever you want and don't worry I'll put in your orders."

Debbie gives Brian a sloppy kiss on the cheek then hugs him until he turns blue. She gives me a hug and a kiss too then shoos us to a booth. It's only when we sit that I realize Emmett, Drew, Ted, Allen and Hunter are all here.

"Schmidt!" Brian growls. "Who's minding the shop?"

"All under control, Boss." Teddy smiles. Allen gives him a peck then excuses himself. Ted stays, slowing sipping his coffee.

"Got to beat those drums," Allen says, as he first shakes Brian's hand then mine.

"Emmy Lou, don't you have a canapé to squeeze?" Brian scowls.

"I squeezed all the canapés already. I deserve a break."

"Hmmpf," Brian snorts.

Brian narrows his sights on Hunter who plops himself next to me to be across from Brian.

"What's your excuse? Run out of homeless hustlers already?"

"Nah, I want first dibs on your ball!" Hunter says and the whole diner stops breathing, waiting for Brian to rip Hunter a new one.

"Sorry, kid, Justin beat you to it," Brian says with barely a ruffled feather, as he savors the coffee that Debbie shoves in front of him.

"Shit," Hunter grumbles then cracks up as Debbie and I each pop him one on the head. Brian laughs and the diner can breathe again.

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