Please see Part 1 for disclaimers and archiving information.

"From The Top", Part 29/33
By Clotho (clothomoerae@hotmail.com) and Cathy (huntersglenn@yahoo.com)

*****************************************

Dave jerked up out of an uneasy sleep.  He glanced at the clock.  12:09.
Still early.  Or early if he wasn't on the early shift tomorrow.  Damnit,
he had to get some sleep -- it wasn't like he'd got a whole lot during the
previous two nights, and there was no reason not to tonight.  None.  Not a
single one.  Dave turned over irritably and thumped his pillow.

A sound came again.  Someone was knocking on his door.  Suddenly Dave's
heart began to thump absurdly loudly in his chest.

He got up and pulled his robe on, telling himself it could be anyone.
Someone could be wanting to borrow something.  The building could be on
fire.  It didn't need to be Carter.  Carter hadn't even said he'd be over
tonight.  There was no reason to expect him.  He'd known there was no
reason to expect him all evening.  Just answer the damn door.  And don't
think about it.

Dave pulled the door open.

John was just about to leave, certain that Dave was either not at home or
so deeply asleep he couldn't hear the knocking, and John wasn't going to
knock louder  And then the door opened and Dave stood there, darkness
looming behind him as the light from the hallway shone on his face.  "Hey,"
John said, his voice a little hoarse from his earlier bouts with crying and
spilling his guts.  "Mind if I come in?"

Dave stepped back.  "Um, sure."  It was Carter.  Carter had come.   The
light coming in from the hallway was blinding to Dave's dark adjusted eyes,
but he'd have known that silhouette anywhere.  Carter had come.

John stepped into the dark entryway.  "You were asleep, weren't you?  I can
go if you're not up to company right now."  But John didn't want to go.  He
just wanted to collapse into Dave's arms.

"Uh, yeah.  It's okay though."  Dave shrugged in the darkness.   "You
okay?"  Carter's voice didn't sound okay.  "Guess the Chief started your
restrictions again, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," John said.  He shrugged out of his coat as he walked the rest
of the way into Dave's living room.  "They were actually better than I had
expected.  I'm not headed to Atlanta again, so that's something."  John
stood there, suddenly unsure of what to do with his coat, as if he'd never
been there before.  He took another step forward and cracked his shinbone
against Dave's coffee table.  "Shit!"  Hopping on one leg, John fell onto
the couch, grabbing his leg with both hands, his coat forgotten as it lay
across his lap.

"What?  Good 'bout Atlanta." Dave walked toward the sofa where he heard
Carter's voice coming from.

His leg still in pain, John nodded. "Yeah.  Some day we had, huh?  Seemed
like every time I thought it couldn't get any worse, it did."

Dave's eyes were slowly, if sleepily, becoming accustomed to this level of
light.  He hadn't pulled the drapes this evening, and the street lights a
floor or so below cast a pale light on the ceiling.  "Yeah, they just kept
on coming.  And half of them couldn't even talk to the docs."  Dave reached
out for the corner of his sofa, and found instead Carter's shoulder.

Dave's hand felt warm and comforting on John's shoulder and he hoped that
Dave would leave it there for a bit.  A lot of people had put comforting
hands on John during the NA meeting, but none of those hands had felt quite
like Dave's.  John took a deep breath and finally lowered his knee, the
pain in his shin now a dull throb.  "Good thing you speak Spanish isn't
it?"

"Yeah."  He hadn't been enough though, and Chuny hadn't been enough,
and...there hadn't been enough to go around, just like there hadn't been
enough docs to go around, and even if there had been some would still have
died, their injuries too severe.  Dave pivoted around the sofa -- images of
today flashing in front of his eyes.  He intended to also sit on the sofa,
but misjudged the distance and found himself falling over Carter's legs.

The minute John felt Dave's body against his legs he knew that Dave wasn't
trying to step over them.  He reached out, not able to see the details of
Dave's body as his arms wrapped around it.  It was enough that he was able
to stop Dave from falling to the floor.  He ended up with Dave half on and
half off of his lap, the bathrobe covering John's legs.  And one of John's
hands was touching bare skin and he remembered that Dave slept naked.  But
he hadn't come to Dave so he could touch his skin.  He had come because he
just needed to be with Dave.  To hear his voice.  To be held.

Dave let out an "Ummph" of surprise as he fell.  But Carter seemed to have
grasped hold of him, and he wasn't falling any further.  It seemed safe, at
least temporarily.  Dave felt around for a bit of sofa to hold on to as he
extracted himself from this mess.  "Why...?"  He let his voice trail off,
maybe he didn't want to know why Carter had come around so late -- or at
least not until he'd had a drink.

As soon as he knew Dave was safe, John jerked his hand away from Dave's
body, not wanting him to even begin to think that he had come there for
*that*.  "Sorry.  You okay?"

"Yeah, fine."  Dave pulled his legs over Carter until he was more or less
all together.  This seemed to be weird.  Dave looked where he knew Carter's
face had to be but saw only shadows and darkness.

"I..." John wasn't sure what to say.  He knew what he wanted, but he had no
idea what would happen when he asked.  Still, it was why he had come.
"Cou...would you just hold me?"  He asked, his voice barely above a whisper
and yet it seemed to echo in the dark room.

"Uh?" Definitely weird.  "Want a drink or anything?"  Maybe after a drink
this would all make sense.  But he couldn't help but remember how Carter's
hands had felt as they encircled him in the darkness.

"No," John said, realizing he had made a big mistake in coming over.
Clutching his coat in his hands, he started to get to his feet.  "I
shouldn't have come here.  I'm sorry."

What?  Something was going very wrong here, and Dave didn't have a clue how
to set it right.  "Carter?"

"You're probably tired after today and I..." John ran out of things to say
as he stood there, but for some reason his feet wouldn't take him in the
direction in which he knew the door lay.  He looked through the darkness,
making out Dave's form on the couch, looking up at him.  His eyes were used
to the darkness now and he could make out body parts, but not the smaller
details.  And he didn't want to go, but Dave didn't want him there or
didn't want to hold him or something like that.  John didn't blame Dave
much for that.  They had endured a rough day and were both expected at work
early in the morning.  "You need to get some sleep and I should get home,"
he said.  But he still didn't move to leave.

"Don't go."  Dave didn't know what else to say.  Everything in the last few
minutes had been so unexpected.  He stood and repeated, "Don't go."

They were standing so close to each other that John could feel the heat
emanating from Dave's body and Dave's words created a lump in his throat.
"Hold me?" he asked again.  "Please just hold me?"

Dave reached out and touched Carter's arm with one tentative hand.  He
didn't know what was happening here, or why Carter had suddenly arrived.
He thought of something else to say though.  "The shift ended hours ago."

Dave's touch seared through the material of John's suit jacket and then his
shirt.  But the touch was an invitation and John stepped into Dave's
embrace, resting his head on Dave's shoulder and wrapping his arms around
Dave's waist.  It was a million light years away from when Benton had held
him after the intervention and yet there was something strangely similar in
the position.  In the need to be comforted.  "Seems like a million years
ago, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."  The evening had seemed a million years long in the empty
apartment.  The clock had ticked each passing minute very loudly.  Dave
tentatively put his other arm about Carter.  It was okay to hug guys
undrunk -- it happened after games all the time.  With that reassuring
thought he tightened his arms about Carter a bit.  The hours between the
end of the shift and now had seemed very, very long.

When John felt Dave's arms tighten around him he relaxed against Dave's
body.  The bathrobe was still open and John could feel every curve and
plane of Dave's body, but he was too emotionally wrung out for his own body
to respond.  As they stood there, John remembered that he had told Dave the
night before that he'd tell him today -- yesterday -- whenever it was, that
he'd tell him what was going on with Chase.  But it wasn't an easy story,
or a pretty one and Dave hadn't asked again, so John decided it was
something that could be put off.  But there was something that needed to be
said.  "Tonight I told my cousin that I thought about getting high every
morning when I woke up and then every night before I fell asleep.  That not
a day goes by when I don't think about it.  I lied to him, Dave, because
I've come to notice that I never think about it when I'm with you."  John
tightened his arms around Dave and raised his head up, looking into Dave's
eyes, eyes that were cloaked by the night.  "I love you," John whispered,
even though he knew Dave didn't want to hear that.

John slowly pulled away.  "I could use something to drink.  Juice or
water.  Something like that.  My throat is a little sore from tonight."

Dave backed away from Carter.  "Sure."  Why did Carter have to bring that
*L* word into it again?  What did it mean anyway?  Dave headed toward the
kitchen and took a slug of his whiskey from the bottle before opening up
the fridge and staring into it, unseeing despite its muted light.  Not
fair.  Carter wasn't playing fair.  Still he grabbed himself a bottle of
beer, and opened it, taking a few mouthfuls before reaching for the jug of
water that he'd begun to keep in there, and getting a glass to pour it
into.

When Dave walked away John went over to the window, looking out into the
city.  Dave's window wasn't as high as the roof at County, but it was still
a muted view of Chicago.  There were people out on the street, walking in
pairs and groups.  People driving down the street.  For some reason John
found himself wondering if one of those cars belonged to Dave's friend,
Jimbo.  Maybe he was coming home from work after a long day at the
station.  Or from a bar.  Maybe he was noticing the Jeep out in front of
Dave's building and wondering why John was there.  He turned around and
rested against the window sill, trying to shut down those thoughts.  They
were just there to distract him from everything else.  But John remembered
how upset and hurt his grandparents had been when they discovered he had
known about Chase's addiction and had never said anything and he knew that
when -- there was no 'if' about it -- Dave found out about Jimbo that he
would be upset with John as well for keeping that a secret.

Dave trotted out to the living room, water glass in one hand and beer
bottle in the other.  "Here."  It was safe, he even managed a half grin at
Carter.  Whatever happened tonight from now on was not his responsibility,
he was in the clear.  He took another drink out of the cold bottle, and
suppressed an involuntary shiver.

John walked over to Dave and took the glass of water.  It felt soothing to
his throat.  "Thanks."  He grinned as he looked in the direction of the
couch.  "Think we can manage to sit down without trying to hurt ourselves
this time?"

"Sure, or..." Dave managed a casual shrug.  "Bedroom's warmer."

Dave's comment made John think that Dave was getting cold standing there in
an open robe with nothing on under it.  "I didn't come here just so I could
end up in your bed.  I want you to know that.  Hell, right now I don't even
think I could get it up.  It's been a Hell of a night for me and I'm wrung
out, so...so, if you want to go in there just because it's warmer, then
that's okay.  But I didn't expect that."  He wished it were a little
lighter so he could see Dave's eyes and maybe be able to tell if what he
was saying was upsetting to him.  But it seemed to John that there were
other times when Dave had been upset over thinking that John had been
expecting sex and he didn't want Dave to get the wrong idea this time.

Dave shrugged, and kept his eyes fixed out the window.  He didn't know what
he'd expected Carter to say, but....  "Up to you."

"Then we'll go on in.  No need for you to freeze out here."  He waited for
Dave to lead the way.

Dave headed for his bedroom, and immediately slipped under the covers
without even bothering to take his robe off first.  As he hit his
previously warmed spot he let out an automatic shiver -- and felt his
muscles begin to relax in the warmth.  This was good, and somewhere in the
darkness even greater than that in the living room, as he *had* drawn the
drapes in here, was Carter living and breathing and walking.  Dave smiled.

John walked into the bedroom, once more blinded by darkness.  He knew he
should have stopped in the doorway to get his bearings.  He really did know
that.  But he didn't.  And he walked into Dave's chest of drawers, hitting
his other shin in the process.  "Damn," he muttered, and his maneuverings
to get away from anything dangerous brought him in contact with the bed.
Only it was the back of his legs that made contact, and he dropped the
glass of water to the floor as he fell backwards.  He waited for the
unmistakable sound of glass shattering, but that didn't come and he
realized the glass had most likely landed on one of the area rugs on the
floor by the bed.

Dave wiggled down as he felt Carter thump onto the bed.  The bed itself
gave out an ominous creak -- he'd really have to look into sorting the
crack out soon.  "Better isn't it?"  He reached an arm out from under the
blankets, and probed the air about him, to see if Carter was within reach
yet.

"Um, as long as you stay in the bed.  I dropped the glass of water, so I'm
sure your rug is soaking wet.  I can go get a towel and clean it up."  John
turned in the direction of Dave's voice.  "Sorry.  I don't know why I'm so
clumsy tonight."

"What?"  Dave blinked in the darkness.  "Don't worry.  Water dries."

"Yeah, but..." Dave did have hardwood floors under those rugs.  Old
hardwood floors, but wood nonetheless.  Still, if he wasn't going to worry
about water damage, then John certainly wouldn't.  He stood and began to
remove his suit jacket.  He pushed the rug aside with his shoe, then
slipped his shoes off, then crawled over the bed to the other side so he
could get under the covers.

Now that Carter was here, Dave was beginning to really want his touch.  To
be able to sleep within those arms like he had the last few nights.  He was
drunk so he was allowed to want it, and he did want it.  Still, thinking
about that, however briefly, reminded him of the way that Carter had
arrived. "You okay, big fella?"

"I'll be okay.  I just had an emotionally draining day and night, that's
all.  It started off bad and ended okay enough.  But it was still hard."

"mmm"  Dave wiggled regretfully out of his warm patch and over to where
Carter was, and began to interweave his arms with Carter's.  The shirt was
annoying, but having the warm body there to lie against was more important
than worrying about buttons.  "It ended okay?"

"It ended with me here, so I'd say that's pretty okay," John replied as he
wrapped his arms around Dave's warm body.  He was acutely aware that Dave
hadn't asked him to stay overnight, which was why he hadn't disrobed, but
John didn't see why he couldn't enjoy the two of them being together.  "Up
to this point though, it pretty much sucked."

Having Carter to hold on to in the darkness was wonderful.  His voice
rumbled out of his chest as well as his mouth so Dave felt as well as heard
it.  Dave shut his eyes, if he thought about it at all, his cock would come
to attention quick smart, that would be good.  But maybe later.  Right now
just holding onto another body -- more particularly Carter's body, was
spectacular in its own right.  "Weaver was hard assed?"  Dave shut his
eyes, then opened them again.  "You said something bout a cousin?"

"Weaver was pretty cool.  Like I said, the new, or rather, old restrictions
aren't so bad.  Same as before but for another ninety days.  If I relapse
again then I'm fired."  He shrugged as best he could while lying down with
Dave snuggled next to him.  "I can live with that because I have no
intention of relapsing again.  But my cousin..." John sighed.  "Chase is a
long story.  Sure you feel up to hearing it?"

Dave was warm and sleepy and just drunk enough that he was allowed to be
happy.  He snuggled closer, idly wishing for a hand to caress his butt or
back or maybe even to start making suggestive movements, but being just a
little too sleepy and content to initiate any such movements himself.  "Got
a Reader's Digest version?"

John chuckled. "I'll give it my best shot."  He thought about it for a few
moments, then began.  "Chase is...was, a photographer and artist.  But
Grandfather wanted an 'heir' to be groomed to take over the business.  I
became a doctor, so that left Chase, for reasons too numerous to go into as
to why none of our other cousins were suitable.  But Chase didn't want
that.  Problem was, Chase didn't have the nerve to stand up to Grandpa, so
he ended up turning to drugs to...feel better, I guess, or to numb his
personal pain.  I found out about it accidentally.  He assured me he had it
under control, that it was just recreational use.  It was heroin and I
should have known better, but I let myself believe him.  Then he came to me
asking for me to detox him.  I turned him down and instead got pamphlets
for various rehab centers.  My mistake with that was giving him a choice.
They didn't give me a choice and I should have never given Chase a
choice."  John sighed, remembering that time all too clearly with Anna
always present in his thoughts and how scared he was for Chase.

Dave wiggled, and clenched his eyes shut.  He hadn't expected this.  Back
home he'd seen people...he didn't want to think about it at all.  He
mumbled, "People don't get better if they don't want to."  Then shut up.

"I know," John said, then he continued.  "I gave in though.  Went to his
place with what I thought he'd need to get through detox.  Anna showed up
to help and she brought stuff.  Together we got him through it.  I thought
he'd be fine, I really did.  When I saw him after then, he seemed fine.
And then...one evening the EMT's brought in a bunch of junkies who had been
shooting up some new and deadly batch of heroin.  I was working on one of
them when Anna called me into the trauma room.  It was Chase."  John shook
his head.  "They kept telling me that he'd been down for twenty minutes,
maybe longer, but I didn't give up, Dave.  I kept at him, determined that
my cousin wasn't going to die.  And he didn't die. he lived.  If you can
call his days living.  He was brain damaged, but he's gotten better over
the years.  Gamma and Grandpa blamed me for what had happened, saying I had
no right to keep Chase's addiction a secret from them.  When his parents
finally arrived here from Singapore they just looked through me.  Not that
I blamed them.  It *was* my fault.  If he had been any other patient...I
would have let him go, you know?  But he was my cousin, the guy I had
played with when we were kids.  Tried to pick up girls with when we were
teenagers and I couldn't let him go.  Anyway, over the years there's been a
bunch of stuff, me losing my trust fund, partially over Chase.  Gamma and
Grandpa basically keeping their distance until last February.  I hadn't
been to see Chase since that Christmas, before the stabbing.  At first I
didn't want to go because I was in too much pain, and then it was because I
was afraid he'd know I was high.  And then there was Atlanta...and once
back from there I felt guilty.  You see, I had felt so superior to him.
*He* was a drug addict.  A junkie.  A user.  Me?  Well, I had a valid
reason to take drugs.  Or so I kept telling myself.  I told myself that in
Atlanta and I've been telling myself that ever since I got back.  But I
quit telling myself that tonight.  And I have Chase to thank for that."

Dave was silent.  There was a lot that Carter had just said, and his brain
wasn't firing on all cylinders.  "Oh," Dave settled for something easy to
ask.  "You went to see him today?"

"Yeah.  He's at the Kenner Institute.  Been there ever since I turned him
into a partial vegetable.  Anyway, they called because he'd quit eating.
The nurse thought maybe he was just lonely.  His folks are like mine, they
travel a lot, but I know that when they're here, they see him.  But he was
angry that I hadn't been to see him in such a long time.  Just about kicked
me out of his room.  And then at work, when I was ready to leave, I found
out that Benton knew about the relapse.  God, he was so cold to me.  He
hasn't been that cold to me since I quit surgery for the ER."  John shook
his head.  "I tried to convince him it was nothing.  All the same shit I
was telling you and Abby.  But as I left I knew then that it wasn't true.
So, I went to see Chase again, and I told him all about it and finally
admitted that I'm just like him."  John laughed.  "Just like him and all
the other junkies that walk through the doors or the ER, or come in on
gurneys.  But, Chase listened and then he ate and we talked.  And...well,
you know that I can go to NA or AA meetings, right?"  John continued, not
really expecting a response from Dave, "Well, the last time I went to a NA
meeting was in Atlanta and they made me go to it.  I went to one tonight.
And I got up there and started talking and didn't stop.  You always say I
talk too much and tonight proved it.  Hell, I think the meeting ran over
because of me."  John ran his hand up and down Dave's side.  "But you know
what?  I think I'm going to be all right.  For the first time since before
I was stabbed I really think I'm going to be all right."  John smiled into
the darkness, then he chuckled.  "Bet you're glad you asked for the
condensed version, aren't you?"

Dave chuckled.  "Yeah.  Never got that though.  Why do people who aren't
going to be tested on a book want the Cliff notes for it?  But..." Dave
paused for a second, then went on  "You mad at Chase for gettin' himself
locked up in that shithole?"

"Sometimes.  There were days when I was in Atlanta that I sat there and
cussed him out.  I could do it, rehab, I mean, he could have done it, too.
And there were days when I sat there and cussed out everyone at County for
making me go there.  Mostly though I get angry with Anna for calling me
into that trauma room.  If she hadn't...well, she or Mark or one of the
others wouldn't have kept working on him.  Wouldn't have made him live.
But, at least he's not a babbling gork, so it could be worse."

Dave's barely listened to Carter's last statement as his mind was
irresistibly drawn to Mike.  How he'd sat and sweated through the trial.
How the prosecuting bitch had said that Mike's punishment should be worse
because Dave himself was a doctor.  The way he'd been led away afterwards
with one panicky backwards look, as if he'd just begun to really believe it
was going to happen.  How there wasn't one fucking thing Dave could do to
help him.  How, when they were kids and hungry Mike had got him food.  And
when there was fighting Mike had got them out of the apartment.  And....
"The other stuff...it doesn't stop counting just because he's locked up."

John frowned, wondering why Dave kept talking as if Chase was behind bars
or something.  "He's not locked up.  It's just that he can't live on his
own.  Not physically anyway."

Dave half shrugged.  "Sounds as good as jail.  Can't do what he wants when
he wants to, 'n all that."

When Dave mentioned jail, John began to think that Dave was maybe thinking
of his own brother.  "Guess so.  Do you ever get angry with Mike for
getting himself put away?"

Dave half shrugged again.  "Yeah.  A bit.  He's a real good guy.   The
best.  An' he's just stuck there for years.  Waste."  Dave burrowed his
head into Carter's shirt.

"Yeah.  Seems a shame.  Two great guys who wasted their lives away.
Grandmother, my Mom's mother, told me once not long after Chase's overdose
that you can't help people who don't want to be helped.  It took me a while
to realize how right she was about that."  John sighed.  "Hey, enough of
this sad shit, I think we've both had quite enough of that, don't you?"

Dave twisted his head.  "Yeah.  You 'kay now?"

"Yeah, I am.  You?"

"Yeah."  It felt good in an odd way, that Carter might understand about
Mike a little.  He hadn't really seemed to before.  But this cousin sounded
just like Mike on heroin not cars.  Same difference.  "Yeah."   Dave kissed
the bit of shirt in front of him.  "Yeah I am."

John felt the kiss through his shirt and he smiled.  This seemed to be a
good time to ask about the charity ball.  "Um, I wanted to ask you this the
other night, but never got around to it.  Every year my grandparents host a
charity ball at the Children's Museum.  As I was leaving the other night to
come over here to help you celebrate your excellent eval, Grandpa told me
that I could invite you to come."  John skimmed his hand over Dave's back,
"So...do you want to go with me?"

"Mmm sure.  That's good."  Dave tightened his arms around Carter as he felt
his back being touched -- then wiggled a little to dislodge the robe so
that Carter could touch his flesh more easily.  Here in this little cocoon
of warmth and darkness he couldn't quite imagine ever wanting to let go of
Carter.  "Is it fancy dress?"

"Yep.  I can help you get a tux.  Unfortunately, I happen to own one.
That's awful to say, isn't it?"  John asked as he found himself suddenly
able to reach *all* of Dave's skin and he took advantage of that by
caressing any body part of Dave's that he could reach and feeling slightly
frustrated that his cock wasn't responding.  But he could still make love
to Dave.  "I still can't do anything, but I'm more than willing to do
something for you," John offered.  "Your choice?"

"Do something?"  Dave's mind was blank about what Carter could do if he
wasn't hard.  But the guy seemed to know everything.  Everything about
making Dave feel good.

"Yeah," John said as he slipped his hand between their bodies, seeking out
Dave's cock.  "I could suck you off, you like that.  I could give you the
best hand job you've ever had.  Or you can fuck me.  That is, if you want
me to stay until the morning."

Dave didn't want to move.  He liked cuddling face to face.  He liked it a
lot.  He wasn't even sure if he wanted to get any harder than the half-mast
he was already at -- the cuddling was just too nice.  That was weird and
worrisome.  Dave didn't know what was happening to him.  He wiggled a
little way up Carter's body to try and catch his mouth in a kiss, then
quietly whispered, half ashamed of himself for wanting nothing more, "I
like it like this."

John brought his hands up to cup Dave's face and he kissed him, lingering
there slightly.  "This is good.  There's nothing wrong with this.   Although
I think I might like it a bit better if we were skin to skin."  John
smiled, then frowned.  "You do know that me not being able to get it up
isn't because of you?  I'm just tired, drained, all of the above.  I wish
like Hell I could get it up for you. But, yeah, I can handle this.  So,
undress me already so we can both enjoy it more."  John kissed Dave again
to punctuate his words, then let his hands drop from Dave's face as he
waited to be stripped.

Dave started to work on Carter's buttons.  All he had to go by was feeling
since the room was dark, and the covers obscured his non-existent view
anyway.  Carter's shirt seemed to be a fine cotton -- still crisp after all
these hours.  And the buttons were small, round and hard.  Unbuttoning them
was surprisingly difficult -- everything happened on the wrong side.  But
it was worth it to unwrap Carter -- Dave's hands worked steadily lower.

John was tempted to help Dave, but for some reason it had become important
to him that Dave be the one to undress him.  To show him that he really did
want him to stay.  The only concession John made was to raise his hips
slightly so that Dave could pull the shirt out from the waistband of his
pants.

Carter's chest was smooth as it always was under Dave's hands.  Almost
unbelievably smooth.  He ran his hands across the hairless surface.  "It
just comes out like this -- you don't wax it or anything?"  He pushed the
shirt off Carter's shoulders -- taking the suspenders with it.

"Yeah, just born this way.  Why?  You don't like it?"  John's mind was
racing as he tried to think of some way to chemically get hair on his
chest.

Dave shook his head.  "nah.  It's just strange.  No hair at all."   He
lowered his hands to the waistband of Carter's trousers and found the
button and fly.  He undid them, and began pushing the trousers down.  "You
got hair here though."

John laughed.  "I *am* a normal male.  But, if you'd like, I can shave that
off, then I'll be all smooth.  Well, mostly all smooth.  I won't shave my
underarms for you, or my legs."  John was then serious.  "I'd do just about
anything for you, Dave."

Dave chuckled.  "Be damn prickly growing back."  He didn't want Carter
smooth or hairier or any different than he was.  It was just odd -- not
being able to see him, only feel him and smell him and hear him.  Different
things seemed to come to his attention.  When Dave had pushed the trousers
to knee level he couldn't get them any further down.  He tried for a minute
to use his toes but it was no use.  They seemed to be stuck.

"I guess it would.  Nix that idea then."  John could then feel Dave's toes
rasping against his knees and it was apparent that his pants weren't going
to cooperate.  "Need any help undressing me or do you have everything under
control?" John asked with a smile.

Dave took a breath, then dived under the covers to get proper purchase and
pull the trousers all the way down.  The atmosphere was close and warm, and
the material smelt of cigarette smoke and coffee.  Dave wrinkled his nose
in reflex, and tilted his face upwards until he found a different smell.
Carter.  Carter's musk.  He smelt incredibly, wonderfully manly.  Dave
breathed it in for three full breaths before he returned to getting the
trousers off.  Carter's socks then his undershorts followed in short
order.  Once they were off Carter smelt even more like Carter.

"Thank you," John said.  "Now get up here so we can cuddle."   He stretched
his arm out so Dave could nestle against him.

Dave heard Carter's words come to him muffled through the covers.  He
finally discarded his own robe, then began a slow journey up Carter --
pressing their bodies close together and kissing first the hairy legs, and
then the smooth hip and chest as he returned to the surface of the bed.

John closed his eyes as he felt Dave's mouth upon him.  A part of him
wished and hoped that Dave would stop at his cock and try to see if he
could bring it to life.  But that wasn't going to happen.  Not Dave trying
and not John's cock cooperating.  When Dave's face did pop out from under
the covers he reached out in the darkness for it, making contact with
Dave's chin and throat.  It was enough to be able to guide Dave's face up
toward his own.

Dave moved willingly toward Carter's mouth.  He needed this -- he hadn't
realised how badly he needed it when he'd been alone before -- but he knew
now just how badly he'd needed Carter to be here tonight.  "Bite me.
Please.  Just once.  Anywhere."

"As you wish," John murmured as his lips brushed lightly over Dave's.  He
then placed small kisses down Dave's neck to his shoulder.  Once there,
John licked a small circle, then slowly marked Dave once more as his own.

Dave cuddled close to Carter, relaxing as he felt Carter working on the
mark, his breathing coming slower, longer and deeper.  Right here, right
now was a very good place to be.

John finished, wishing he had enough light so he could see how red the mark
had become.  He licked the spot once more, then kissed his way back to
Dave's mouth.  This time he lingered there, enjoying the way Dave tasted.

Dave sleepily moved his arms a little to accommodate Carter's new
position.  The mark on his shoulder felt cold without Carter working on it,
but he knew it would dry soon -- and tomorrow it would tingle slightly with
most movements, and each time would remind him of this and tonight.
Tomorrow was sure to be a good day.

John tightened his arms around Dave and breathed deeply, taking in Dave's
scent.  He closed his eyes as his worries from the day began to fade away.
He was with Dave and that was where he needed to be.  Dave had wanted him
to stay overnight and that was good, too.  The Super Bowl was coming up and
John was hopeful he'd finally win, although he knew that with their 'loser
doing everything the winner wants' bet that there was no real way to lose.
And Dave had said he'd go to the ball.  John could already imagine Dave in
a black tux, looking handsome.  And that was the last thought on his mind
as sleep overcame him.

To be continued