Sadie's Kiss Part 5

Evan's leg was hurting like a sonofab.i.t.c.h. He hadn't slept one wink that night, every single other position uncomfortable -- not only thanks to those motherf.u.c.kers who'd kicked the c.r.a.p out of him. Every time he s.h.i.+fted on the bed, his a.s.s throbbed in that hot painful way that Evan usual y cherished, the memory of a good, hard, anonymous f.u.c.k getting him through one more day, making him feel alive.

This time, his gut burned every time a spike of pain snuck up on him, the emptiness something physical. He couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough to go through with it. He should've known Casey would be al about feelings and emotions and al that jazz he'd sworn he was done with.

Sadie barked at his feet, her tail wagging and hitting his cast rhythmical y. "Can't take you out again, princess,"

Evan said as he reached down to scratch her ears. "Not for awhile. After lunch, okay?"

Sadie whined and lapped at his fingers. Evan felt his way around the kitchen, getting a can of beer out of the fridge. So what if it was early. Beer was the only food group that didn't go to waste, and that was the only kind of food group Evan felt like keeping in his house. That, and Sadie's treats.

The lady who lived down the hal came once a week to clean his apartment, and after the first few times of finding Darwinism projects in his fridge rather than food, she started bringing over trays of meatloaf and lasagna and other home cooked meals to carry him through the week.

Evan had tried to tel her she didn't have to do that, but either she was deaf, or pretended to be, because every Friday like clockwork Evan would come back from his afternoon walk to find his fridge cluttered with delicious smel ing food.

The beer wasn't cold enough or strong enough.

Evan finished it, wis.h.i.+ng it were whiskey, and limped his way to the couch. His ratty apartment was spa.r.s.ely decorated, to avoid him slamming into things. He always refused to use a cane to walk around, preferring to trust Sadie completely, but as he knocked into the coffee table -- which was out of place, incidental y, pushed over to the side after last night's activities -- he cursed under his breath and wished -- He didn't often wish.

Wis.h.i.+ng was dangerous.

Evan took a deep breath, wincing in pain and trying to hoist his leg up on the back of the couch without knocking it into anything else.

Sadie whined again. Evan sighed. "Girl, come on.

We've been out this morning, haven't we? Daddy can't get to the stairs right now."

Sadie's wet nose poked at his hand and Evan sighed again. "Sadie, please." He was sure that if his dog could talk she would tel him how much of an idiot he was to rent a place on the fourth floor with his "Impairment," as his case worker cal ed it. Why not say blind? He wasn't impaired, he was blind, and blind wasn't a f.u.c.king bad word, for f.u.c.k's sake.

"I should be mad at you," Evan said out loud, and felt Sadie's head tilt sideways under his fingertips. "You betrayed me for that -- dude, last night."

I wasn't the one f.u.c.king him, though, Sadie barked again.

"You're supposed to chase them away afterwards, not get cuddles," he said, trying to sound stern.

I thought that was your job?

Fantastic. Evan was losing an argument with his own dog.

He needed more beer for this.

"You slept here."

Casey tried to avoid Leo's leer as he fiddled about with the blasted coffee machine. It was seven thirty am, and Leo should not be awake and alert and at work. It was against the natural circle of life or something.

"You look different," Leo observed, squinting at him.

"I thought you didn't go for chicks."

Casey blushed to the very roots of his hair. "I don't.

And I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Why not? I'm your roommate. I could've been worried, you know. You went off to play Mr. Nurse and never came back --"

"Were you worried?"

"Wel , no..."

Casey punched the coffee machine into submission.

"So why are we even talking about it?"

"Wel I could've been. And you're not fessing up, and you're blus.h.i.+ng, by the way. Al clear signs that tel me there's something going on you're not sharing with us." Leo grinned and stole his coffee from Casey, taking a sip on it and nearly spitting it right back out. "Eww. How the hel does Sandra even drink this s.h.i.+t? Never mind, irrelevant.

So?"

"So nothing."

"Bul . I'm your roomie and your best friend. I know you. Something must have happened."

"He got laid," Marike said as she walked into the office with an empty cup.

Casey glared at her.

"What? It's true."

"Are you s.h.i.+tting me?" Leo was positively Ches.h.i.+re- like. "Oh this is too good! Who was the lucky lad?"

"Leo, I swear to G.o.d, if you don't shut the f.u.c.k up --"

"His name's Evan, he's the guy that got bashed yesterday," Marike finished as she fil ed her coffee cup.

"Don't look at me like that," she scowled at Casey. "He's your friend, right? He's got a right to know."

"d.a.m.n straight I do!" Leo nodded seriously. "Wait a second -- you tapped that?"

Casey felt like banging his head against the table.

He took his coffee and hid behind his computer -- not quite managing, however, given that Leo shuffled around the crammed studio until he could stand right in his face.

"What!" Casey snapped, slos.h.i.+ng the coffee over the rim of his cup and cursing as it soaked a bunch of papers on his desk.

"Look, man," Leo said, trying to adopt Sandra's usual soothing voice. He failed spectacularly. "I've known you for three years now and this is the first time you've actual y shown interest in anyone. I'm concerned. I am the concerned friend."

"The role doesn't suit you."

"Ouch! Dude. That hurts." Leo put a hand over his heart, mock-hurt. "So you slept and ran?"

"I didn't run, since you want to know," he snapped.

"He kicked me out."

"Harsh. What did he say?"

"Nothing."

Moment of silence.

"So how did he exactly kick you out?"

"He didn't have to talk," Casey said, his chest constricting again.

"So you just a.s.sumed he didn't want you there."

"Pretty much," Marike said with a grin. "I told him he was an idiot."

"I second that."

"Who's an idiot?"

Casey groaned and faceplanted into the keyboard as Sandra made her way into the office, carrying her briefcase and a box of m.u.f.fins. "Hi, sweetie pie, did you sleep wel ?"

"Yeah, thanks." Marike smiled as Sandra petted her cheek and edged along between her and Leo toward her desk. "So, who's the idiot? What did Leo do?"

"Why do you automatical y a.s.sume it's me!?"

"Wel why would I a.s.sume it's Casey?"

"He slept with the blind guy last night and then ran out on him."

"I didn't!" Casey nearly yel ed.

"You didn't run off or you didn't hit that?" Leo asked, his tone mildly curious.

Sandra's eyes were the size of dinner plates. Casey blushed beet red and covered his face with his hands.

"Hold on. Did you real y sleep with that poor boy?"

"The poor boy is in his thirties, at least," Casey gritted out, "and he started it!"

"So why did you run?"

Casey had thought he liked Marike. Now he wasn't quite as sure anymore. "He pushed me away. And before you ask me how he did that without talking, I f.u.c.king felt it. It was just as I was feeling it when they were beating him to a pulp. He could've punched me and it wouldn't have been clearer," he exploded.

There was silence. Casey regretted raising his voice immediately. "Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't -- I'm sorry."

Sandra put down her bags and came to perch herself next to Casey on his desk, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. "Honey, look," she started, her voice soft. "You know I care for you like a son. But I think that sometimes you hide behind your senses a bit too much."

Casey sighed and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. "What do you mean?"

"You play it safe. And sometimes it would probably pay off to go against your better judgment and take a risk."

"I just did that," Casey muttered. "I am not -- I never -- and then he kicked me out."

Leo rol ed his eyes at him. "So what, are you just going to give up on him?"

"Cos that's probably what he's expecting," Sandra put in helpful y.

Casey stayed silent. He had been so sure everything about last night had been a mistake. But now...

"Could you like, read his mind right now?" Marike asked curiously.

"I don't read minds." Casey couldn't get mad at her.

She was actual y taking this a lot better than most people, and curiosity about his gift was something he was used to dealing with when it was genuine and not scathing.

"Wel then, how did you know he didn't want you to stay? Maybe he was just upset about something."

Casey stopped to consider it. Was it even remotely possible that the rejection he'd felt hadn't been about him?

"Did you even ask him?"

Casey looked up at Sandra. "Are you reading minds too?"

She snorted. "I'm a forty-five year old lesbian, cupcake. Superpowers come with the job description."

That broke the seriousness of the moment as Leo rol ed his eyes, Marike giggled and high-fived Sandra, and Casey made his decision. It might have been the wrong one, but at that point, he thought that maybe, maybe this time it would pay off.

Evan was dozing off on the couch, clutching a pil ow to his chest to try and protect his ribs from jolting when he s.h.i.+fted. Sadie's barking jarred him out of his semi- comatose sleep, and he heaved himself off of the couch with a grunt.

"Sadie, enough of this," Evan said with a touch of annoyance in his voice. "I've cal ed Mrs. Lamar, she said she'l come soon. Quit hara.s.sing me."

Sadie barked again, and just like that, the doorbel rang.

"There we go." Evan grabbed his crutch and thumped toward the door. "One moment, Mrs. Lamar."

"Uh... I'm -- it's Casey."

And just like that, Evan was wide awake and alert.

His mouth ran dry, and between Sadie woofing and barking excitedly, and the insistent ringing of the doorbel , he felt like he was caught between two opposing fires.

"Evan, please. I got something for you to eat -- I mean, I didn't actual y make it, Sandra did, and just -- can you let me in?"

f.u.c.k, did he even know what he was asking? "It's not a good time," he managed. He waited. There was a long beat of silence, and he almost thought that he'd managed to get rid of him.