Saturday, 26 October 2013

Story Corner #Bring that for You

This posting is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY.
It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers.

This is part of a blog story series, they are written completely and only for this blog, and are only edited by me. Which means I've read through it more than once before posting.
Sorry for the mistakes, any comments, I'd be happy to hear, and fix, if I fell it truly needs it.
(There’s a language thing I won’t, but I'm happy to explain.
Enjoy these stories--written just for you!

This story actually came to me from a family tragedy. It was always going to be about an accident, the content of this story hasn’t changed since I thought it up back at #1* but the flow of energy I needed for this story came because of real life. The emotions, even—just that idea of it actually happening, to me, in real life, gave me the push I needed for this one.

Side Note: I’m having a little doubt with this one. I’m feeling as it’s a little whinny, if, maybe something you’d think would come more from a teen than an older adult. But as I was writing it, my head was in his, and as I see it, those doubts have always been there, it just took three days of little food and even less sleep.
I just want you to have an open mind, I’ve been told I have a young voice and I didn’t want you to dismiss this part in the story because of that.

Probably should read these first
#3, Happy Halloween
Being that for You

Mike’s neck cracked three times as he rotated his neck while he sat up straight in his chair.
     He was way too old to be sleeping in a chair. But as he looked down at his partner of seventeen years and all the fear and panic from that first phone call slammed into his chest. Mike had to grip it, and breathe through the panic that just wasn’t helpful.
     The phone call that threatened his life came while he was out with a group of friends. Jake had been away for the weekend, he was scheduled to return the next night, but as the clock closed in on midnight, Mike got the call from the hospital that upended his night.
     He’d picked up the phone, a little uncertain as to who was ringing him that late at night with a number he didn’t recognised. But there was something in him that couldn’t do what he’d normal did. He just couldn’t flip the phone over and hang up.
     It had startled him when a smooth calm voice on the other side asked if he was Michael, and if he was the correct next of kin to Jacob.
     Jake was in the hospital. An accident. It didn’t look good.
     He couldn’t really remember the rest of the phone call. He couldn’t remember breathing, or speaking, or answering, or what was said. His ears had been filled with cotton, and his heart had landed somewhere around his ankles.
     However, something happened. His mates, probably, helped him out and the next thing he’d known, he was standing over his lover’s body.
     A white sheet covering his lower half, the only clean looking thing on the bed. Wires, and suction-cup like things stuck to his chest. Red, black, blue and green.
     His arm had a splint. A bulky lump under the sheet told Mick that he’s leg probably had one too. His chest and right side was busied black. His face swollen. If Jack had been awake, he probably wouldn’t have been able to open his right eye.
     A clear air tub hooked into his noise, and up around his ears, wasn’t as contrasted by colour as it should have been.
     He was breathing, though, that’s was a good thing. He was breathing on his own. The machines beat in a stead rhythm on his heart. All good signs, they’d been good signs for the last three days, but still, his lover would not wake up.
     The doctors had been in; they’d told him what had happened. A car accident. The other car had swerved into the driver side door suddenly. The investigation was still ongoing since the other driver had been in the same condition as Jake when they’d brought them in.
     That was three days ago.
     Since then, the man had woken up; he’d told the cops that he didn’t know what had happened. He couldn’t remember. But the blood work had come back clean and it was clearly he’s fault. It was all accepted, and charges had been laid.
     One of the policemen investigating it had hypothesised to Mike that the other driver had most likely fallen asleep at the wheel and when he’d jerked himself awake he’d yanked on the wheel and ended up smashing into Jake.
      The news had helped Mike a lot more than he thought it should have. He wasn’t sure what he’d been holding onto about the accident, but knowing it had been an accident anyone could have had. That the other driver hadn’t fought it. That he’d accepted what he’d done. It all helped Mike breathe a little better.
     Had he been wondering what would have happened to Jake if it was his fault. That the reason his man hadn’t woken up was because he didn’t want to have to face the reality of what he’d done.
     They were all childish thoughts and dreams. The reason that Jake was still asleep was that he’d mind and body needed this time to heal itself. That’s what the doctors had said, and they knew what they were talking about.
     Well, they did, didn’t they?
     Mike was still a little hesitant about that. But then maybe it was more for the fact that he’d just needed a reason. Something he could grip onto that said his partner was going to wake up fine as ran. That he was going to get out of this bed and everything was going to be fine.
     However, as the hours passed by, and still nothing happened, not even a twitch, Mike’s head started to mess with him. He started to think past what he was seeing.
     What if Jake didn’t wake up? What was Mike meant to do?
     Live the rest of his life alone, in that house they share together? Was he meant to sell it, the house he’d lived in for seventeen years and find something else in his life to hold to? Was he meant to take over Jake’s House? Meant to take a cause he’s lover believed in to a point that changed his whole life.
     Was he meant to find himself another lover? A companion.
     And if he was, did that mean that he’d look for another man, or would he go back to woman?
     He’s never even looked at another man before Jake had come into his life, and to be fair he hadn’t looked at any other since that day either. Jake was everything to him. He was the reason for Mike’s lifestyle changes. His new life—this life. Though he loved Jake more than anything in the world, if he wasn’t here anymore, did that mean that Mike would stay just as he was, or would he go back to what he’d once been?
     Mike didn’t really know why this point was coming up. He’d thought he’d already accepted his sexuality a long time ago. But as he looked at his lover. Held his limp hand, stroked his arm, he realised that he hadn’t.
     Yes, he’d thought of himself as gay, but he only felt that way because his lover was a male, and because the world needed to label him as he was seen. Though he’d been happy for that, that he’d been willing to call himself gay, he only saw himself that way because Jake was standing next to him.
     Apparently, he didn’t see himself that way if Jake wasn’t in the picture.
     It was a chilling thought, one that made sweat spike up across the back of his neck, as his heart seemed to grow in size.
     As Mike thought about this, in the long hours of sitting, waiting, for something to change. Mike concluded that he’d been holding out on Jake. He’d been selfish or self-centred and he’d still not let go of his old habits. He’d seen had that Mike locked up somewhere in the back of his mind, waiting for a time to be opened back up.
     Like he’d still been waiting for Jake to turn him out. He’d still had that scared little part of his mind that made him think this wasn’t going to work. That there wasn’t enough—that he wasn’t enough for someone like Jacob. That a little straight plumper couldn’t possibly be enough of someone as self-sacrificing as Jake.
     Was he though? Had that changed? In the last seventeen years had Mike proven himself to Jake? Had he become someone, a person that Jake could be proud to call his?
     Mike didn’t think so, he wasn’t anything but a plumper, and he wasn’t even a particularly good one. Yeah, he got the job done. He’d found problems when they needed finding. He worked for a guy who didn’t rip his customers off. But, he didn’t go out of his way. He didn’t do anything more than what was written on the paper.
     Even at home, he wasn’t anything special. Yeah, he helped clean the house. He cooked when he was home first. He washed the dishes when Jake managed to cook. But he didn’t go out of his way to make it special. He still got cranky and snappy when Jake’s work took him away all the time.
     Mike got jealous of the time Jake spent with those boys, with the kids he help live again. He didn’t like going to Jakes work because he didn’t like seeing the light in their eyes as they all looked at Jake. Like he was there superman and they all wanted just a moment of that light pointed at them.
     But was Mike any different. Jake had been there for him. He’s been patient and kind and everything that a guy could want in someone who tipped there world upside down. Even when Mike had been overly mean to Jake, he’d brushed it off and patiently waiting for Mike to get over himself. To wake up and realise that it didn’t matter who he loved as long as he loved them with everything that he had.
     And what did Mike do? How did he pay back that man? But holding a part of him back. By not accepting what was in front of him with a full open heart.
     He was a disgrace to the man he loved. He didn’t deserve what was at his feet. He didn’t deserve the house and the relationship. He wasn’t worthy of a man like Jake. A man that needed someone like himself. Someone who would hold him at night and through the day.
     He deserved someone just as special as he was, someone who—
     I hand hit his head. Mike would love to say that the hand brushed his hair back. However, the reality of coming awake and high levels of painkillers was much more sluggish than can be called romantic.
     Mike jumped. He’d not realised he’d laid his head down so that he’s forehead had rested against his fingers, that were wrapped snuggly against Jake’s forearm.
     “Hey,” Jake had tried to say. But dry mouth—cotton drug spit, and the fact that he’d not used his voice in three days, that Mike hadn’t known off, had it that nothing came out. Mike understood. He saw the words in his eyes, he’d read them as they formed on his lips.
     “Shit,” he shot up, standing before he’d asked his legs to do anything. He’d hovered at the side of the bed, looking at his lover and then the door.
     He needed to get a nurse—someone needed to be here for this. To check Jake out. To make sure this wasn’t a wakeful goodbye before he dropped dead on Mike.
     He needed to do something for Jake. Give him some water. Tell him he loved him. That he scared the shit out of him. Not just because of the accident but for staying asleep for so long.
     He needed to ask Jake what he needed. He needed to move the fuck now so that he could start something, rather than just stand here like a dick looking frantic and unknowing.
     “Babe,” again, the words were read off Jake rather than him actually saying them. But his lips had twisted slightly in that way they did when Mike was being cute, and panicking when he didn’t need to be.
     Nevertheless, Mike just didn’t know what he was meant to do first. What did he do first?
     With a deep breath, probably the first one he’d taken since he’d seen Jake’s eyes open, if the pain in his chest was anything to go by, Mike walked to the door and called to the nurse’s desk. Jake had been put in the wards ICU room so the desk was opposite the door.
     Then Mike walked back the few steps to Jake, who was still looking at him as if he was being cute. Leaning over the bed, Mike ran a hand over Jake’s head, as he came close so that Mike was the only thing Jake could see.
     “I’d get you something to drink, but you’re not allowed anything until the nurse comes to see you, since you might not be able to swallow anything. Understand?”
     Jake blinked, and made a slight move that Mike thought must have been a nod before his eyes filled with tears.
     “Shit, babe, are you okay? You in heaps of pain?” he looked in the direction of the door, wanting to see a nurse there. He thought he saw movement outside, and he was sure they would be here quickly.
     He didn’t know what to do. He felt horribly helpless at the moment.
     Hands limply tried to grip at Mike’s arm, making him turn back to his partner. “What, honey, what’s wrong?”
     Jake’s eyes looked irritated, red, and leaky. His smile was sad. Sadder than Mike had seen it in a long time.
     “What is it?” he muttered as he leant closer, trying to see Jake’s face as well as hear what he was trying to get out.
     “Sorry?” Mike asked, he wasn’t sure if that’s what the man was trying to say.
     Jake nodded. his movements so quick Mike reached up and still it. He wasn’t sure what damage had actually been done. He was sure someone had told him, likely more than once, but he couldn’t be able to tell you want they said.
     Mike felt his face turn soft, “You’ve nothing to be sorry about. This wasn’t your fault.”
     Jake nodded, slightly, because Mike still hadn’t let go of his lover face.
     “Nothing,” he whispered before he brushed his lips against Jake’s. They were dry, cracked, and his breath had that sick smell to it. That one that comes with cottonmouth.
     “None of it’s your fault,” Mike whispered as he brushed them again, taking a slight lick to Jake’s bottom lip, because he wanted to leave something of himself behind as the doctors did their stuff, which was most likely going to take Jake away from Mike for the next hour or so.
     A throat cleared behind them. It was laced with happiness. But nurse Polly—what Mike’s brain seemed to call her, was like this all the time. Nice and polite, even to the arseholes.
     Pulling back slightly, Mike looked down at Jake’s eyes, seeing the love he felt himself shinning back at him.
     “Good evening Mr Mason, it’s good to see you awake,” she started and then went on to do all those nurse things as Mike said down on the chair he’d been in before, his fingers holding Jake’s hands as his partner learnt everything that happened to him by various other.
     He smiled reassuringly at Jake whenever his partner looked over at him. As nodded, or commented whenever he needed to, so that Jake knew everything that was going on.
     Mike couldn’t seem to stop himself from thinking of how happy he’d been when Jake had opened his eyes. That he’d been away and even know as he learnt of what was going to be the rest of Jake’s life.
     He couldn’t stop those thoughts mixing up with the ones he’d felt before. That he wasn’t right for Jake. That he’d been holding out on the man he loved.
     And he’d been right, he wasn’t good enough for Jake, but he’d been the one Jake had chosen, so shouldn’t Mike do the same thing? Shouldn’t he hang up his past? His doubts and those of something outside of Jake. Because there wasn’t anything for him outside Jake.
     Nothing he ever wanted to see.
     “Marry me,” Mike asked softly as everyone left for the night, test and more doctors were coming early tomorrow, but for now, Jake just had to rest.
     Jake sputtered. Words seemed to clog themselves inside the other man’s throat, as Jake blinked at Mike as if he’d grown another head.
     Mike understood why, it wasn’t that he’d been opposed to the idea. It just wasn’t on his bucket list. He didn’t see why anyone bothered. Neither man nor woman. It was a piece of paper saying they were together, and they already had plenty of them. In every sense of the word, they were each other’s next-of-kin.
     “But…” Jake finally seemed to say. His eyes were shinny again. Mike wasn’t sure if they’d have been the same if Jake hadn’t been doped up.
     Mike just smiled at the man he loved, and the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
     The one he was going to spend it with, because there wasn’t an either or. He was going to be with Jake until they died, and it was going to happen when they were so old that no one would mourn the loss of their lives, but be thankful it happened, that they were out of pain.
     It was going too happened, because Mike didn’t want to see it as anything other than that.
     “Yes,” Jake stumbled on the word but he got it out. “Okay.”
     Mike smiled, leant over the side of the bed, and sealed the deal the only way he knew how, with a kiss. 

Stay tuned for the final part of this miniseries: #4, Christmas and New Years

*this isn’t true, originally, this story was going to be the death of Jake, but after writing #2 I fell in love with him in a way that he couldn’t be replaced. So the thoughts, and the needs that this story came threw are still true, but…

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