Wes and Toren (35 page)

Wesley smiled and bowed his head slightly. “Thank you very much, Dr. Amani,” he said quietly and genuinely.

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Dr. Amani smiled again, hooking her pen in the breast pocket of her white coat. “I’m glad I can help,” she answered earnestly. “Take care and get well soon,” she said, stepping backward and leaving the room, still with her pleasant smile.

Wesley rested his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. He looked exhausted with dark circles under his eyes. He was so different from the usually bright and vibrant man that I fell in love with and it broke my heart to see him like this. Wesley gripped my hand and furrowed his brows. He opened his eyes and it took a moment for his vision to focus on his parents at the foot of the bed.

“What did you mean when you said ‘family only’?” he asked quietly.

Mrs. Carroll glanced at me, and then shook her head. “It’s nothing.

Don’t worry about it,” she said dismissively, patting Wesley’s toes over the knit blanket.

Wesley noticed her look in my direction and he tightened his grip around my hand and narrowed his eyes. “You meant Toren, didn’t you?”

he asked.

“Honey, it’s all right, we just want what’s best for you,” she said, giving me a glare that might as well have been a knife in my heart.

“He
is
what’s best for me,” Wesley said violently, his pale face gaining color. “He was the only person I wanted to see when I woke up and you went out of your way to make sure he wasn’t here! Did you actually tell the doctor not to talk to him?”

“Sweetheart, calm down….” Mrs. Carroll began, but Wesley interrupted her.

“I can’t believe it! This is bullshit! Tor called you on his own even though I didn’t want him to. In fact, I told him
not
to call you, and this is how you thank him? What the hell is wrong with you?”

I was taken aback by the strength in his voice. His face warmed to a reddish hue and he slammed his fist into the bed. He was taking deep breaths and I squeezed his hand.

“Wesley, calm down. It’s okay.” I whispered.

264

J. M. Colail

“No, it’s not okay!” Wesley shouted. “I’m sick of the way they treat you.”

“Wes, calm down,” Mr. Carroll said stoically. His expression never changed and it was like he was blaming Wesley for being angry. Wesley looked down into his lap and went quiet; his grip loosened on my hand and he didn’t say anything more.

“Why…why don’t we go down to the cafeteria and get some lunch?” Mom suggested after a silent moment. “Wes really needs his rest right now, so let’s give him some time to sleep.”

Mom smiled awkwardly and Alycia picked up her purse from the floor. Mr. and Mrs. Carroll stared at Wesley, who didn’t look up again, and then agreed. Mom and Alycia led the way out of the room, smiling at Wesley and telling him to get some sleep. Mrs. Carroll patted his leg over the blanket and followed Mr. Carroll out of the room after glaring at me again for a long moment. Wesley lifted his eyes to the door and then sighed with bated relief. He squeezed my hand and looked down into his lap again.

“You always do that,” he said weakly, after everyone was gone.

“Do what?” I asked, turning to Wesley with upturned brows.

“Back down to my parents. You let them walk all over you and I’m sick of it,” he said sullenly.

“I just thought that now wasn’t the right time,” I answered quietly.

“It’s never the right time, but I’m sick of how they treat you.”

“Wesley,” I interrupted, tightening my grip around his hand.

“They’re never gonna accept me and I’m fine with that. Because you said you chose me. But I don’t want you to cut all ties with your family.

It’s important to me. Besides, we don’t see them all that often, so it’s okay as long as you come home to me,” I explained. It was honestly how I felt and I believed every word I said.

Wesley exhaled heavily through his nose and nodded. “All right, you win. But I still don’t like the way they treat you. I just wish they would get it. I wish they would see that you really are what’s best for me.”

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I leaned down and kissed Wesley on the lips, just a short kiss, but one that was filled with promises. Wesley finally smiled at me and sighed again. He laid his head back down and took some deep breaths.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, concerned that he wore himself out more from all the excitement.

“I forgot I was tired,” he said with a sleepy laugh. “But, how are you? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Well, a lot better now,” I acknowledged with a grin.

“Well, you look like hell.”

“You’re one to talk!” I said, lightly slapping Wesley’s shoulder.

“You’ve gotta be tired though. Did you sleep any? Want me to scoot over?”

I kissed Wesley again and pulled a chair next to the bed. Wesley tried to stay awake, but his eyes kept shutting and he eventually drifted off. I watched quietly with a smile on my face. I was so grateful that he was okay; the thought of losing him scared me more than anything. He was still holding my hand and I squeezed it twice. I told him I loved him and then I fell asleep too.

266

J. M. Colail

I HAD learned that clichés are often true; men do act like babies when they’re sick, but Wesley acted like a six year-old without any toys.

He came home from the hospital the morning after his surgery. He stayed in bed and slept most of the day and I sat beside him, reading a book or doing puzzles. He didn’t have much of an appetite, but he ate a little bit of soup and half a slice of bread. He took the prescription painkillers every four hours as directed and slept away the day while his body healed.

I called Gus at the shop and explained what had happened. His voice faltered when I told him Wesley had an emergency appendectomy and I clearly heard his relief when I said that Wesley was already home and on the mend. Gus wanted Wesley to take as much time as he needed because he would work his ass off once he got better. On the second day, Wesley spent most of his time in bed, but he sat up and talked and played games with me. He even sat on the sofa and watched TV while I made dinner. The third day was spent in the living room, curled up on the couch, watching movies and playing video games. He regained his appetite and ate larger portions of soup, sandwiches, and some of the lasagna that Gus’s wife had made for us. By the fourth day, he was able to move around a little more freely, and he was getting restless.

“I’m bored,” Wesley sighed, leaning back in bed and stretching his arms.

“So read a book or play a game,” I suggested, dropping my T-shirt into the dirty clothes pile on the floor.

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“Don’t wanna,” he answered, watching me closely as I pulled a white polo shirt over my head.

“Then watch a movie or something,” I said, stepping into a pair of khaki pants. I took a pair of socks from the top drawer of the dresser and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not in the mood,” he answered, sitting up and scooting closer to me. “C’mon, Tor, play with me.”

“I can’t. Today’s the first day of school and then I have to work tonight,” I explained calmly although Wesley was threading his arms around my waist. I had taken the past few days off work to take care of him and now I had both school and work.

“But I’m boooored!” Wesley complained, realizing his actions were futile.

“Alycia’s coming over after school and if Jeremy’s not working, I’m sure he’ll come too. So, just be good until they get here. Now, I’ve gotta get going or I’m gonna be late,” I said, standing up and then leaning down and kissing Wesley’s forehead. “I love you and I’ll see you tonight.”

“Fine. Just leave me! Your poor boyfriend’s just had surgery and now you’re leaving him all alone. Poor me,” Wesley whined, sticking out his bottom lip and pouting.

“I know, I’m so mean. But I’ll make it up to you later. I love you!”

I said, walking out of the bedroom.

“I love you too. And have a good first day of school,” he called after me.

268

J. M. Colail

I WAS frustrated. Beyond that even. It had been two weeks to the day since Wesley and I last had sex and at least another three days until we could again. It was strange; I had lived over eighteen years of my life never having sex and now I could barely function after a two-week dry spell! What was wrong with me? And Wesley didn’t even seem bothered by it. He was feeling better, no longer taking the prescription painkillers, and his boredom and restlessness increased exponentially, but if he embroiled himself in an activity, he was fine. While I suffered from a twenty-four-hour headache and hard-on. It wasn’t fair! And to make matters worse, Wesley strolled around in his boxers or without a shirt on knowing the exact effect it had on me.

But, it was partly my fault too. I knew Wesley couldn’t indulge himself, so I had decided that I wouldn’t either, but it was so hard! Quite literally. Even at work. The night before, I was straightening up the tableware aisle, started thinking about Wesley, and had to make a dash to the restroom. It was ridiculous, sitting on the closed toilet seat with clenched fists trying to talk myself down. I told myself that it wasn’t fair; if Wesley couldn’t then I shouldn’t, and how much better it would be if I waited until we could satisfy our desires together. But thinking about that only exacerbated my situation and I had to make a choice: spend an hour trying to talk myself out of it or get it over with and get back to work. As embarrassing as it was, jerking off at work was better than being found grappling with an erection while still on the clock. I came in a wad of tissue, washed my hands, and went back to straightening tablecloths and napkins.

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I got home around ten and Wesley greeted me happily while innocently playing video games. I felt so guilty that I couldn’t even look at him. I made a snack and we watched TV before going to bed, finally letting sleep overwhelm the shame of ejaculating on company time.

The next day, I woke with morning wood so hard that it hurt while Wesley slept peacefully beside me. I slithered out of bed and went to the bathroom where I let the natural process of urine elimination take care of my erection. I sat down on the sofa and watched the morning news on a low volume until I heard Wesley rustling around in the bedroom. I thought about what to make for breakfast then went to say good morning.

“What—what are you doing?” I stammered as I stepped into the bedroom, seeing Wesley sitting up in bed with a flushed expression and his dick in his hand.

“Ah…oops. Busted,” he said, staying his hand and grinning at me.

“Stop it! Don’t do that!” I blurted out, hurrying to his bedside. I looked down at him and instantly felt my crotch stir in arousal. “You’re not supposed to do that!” I shouted.

“What? Why not?” Wesley asked grinningly, cleverly sensing my line of thought.

“Be-because! The doctor said….”

“The doctor said no sex. She never said anything about masturbating,” he explained candidly.

“But, that should be a given!” I complained, trying my best to avert my eyes from his lap.

“You really expect me to wait that long?” he asked, peering up at me from the tops of his eyes while he began stroking himself again.

“Well, yes! I mean, I didn’t think you could and….”

Wesley rounded his eyes and looked at me squarely. “Do you mean you haven’t this whole time?”

He stared at me without blinking. My face felt flush and I nodded my head slowly. “I just…. Well, I thought you couldn’t, so I was waiting 270

J. M. Colail

’til you could,” I said quietly, blushing deeper because I was lying. But how could I possibly tell him that I got so horny that I jerked off in the bathroom at work? At work!

“Oh man, you’re a hell of a lot stronger than I am,” he sighed wistfully, still with his stiff cock in hand. “Now I feel kinda guilty for all the times I’ve done it.” I swallowed hard, feeling the twinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach for lying. But there was no way I could tell him the truth, and it was just once. “So how about I make it up to you,” he offered with a sly grin, patting the bed. “I’ll watch you. Besides, you can’t keep that hard-on hidden from me,” he said calmly with a wink and a glance at my crotch.