No Other Life than This Ch. 05

"Dr. Nolan? A short, bald guy?"

"No, Mr. Siegel, this guy is real tall with sort of, uh, carrot-colored hair."

"Oh, that Dr. Nolan. Yeah, it's okay, you can send him on up. "

"My hair is not carrot-colored," Matt growled by way of greeting when Benny opened the door.

"What would you call it then?"

"Reddish blond, I guess."

Benny snorted and stood aside to let Matt in.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just got out of surgery, and I need to be back in the hospital in about seven hours."

"Uh huh."

"I didn't get any dinner and it's Thanksgiving. Was Thanksgiving."

Matt managed to look both hopeful and pathetic at the same time and Benny bit back a smile. He moved towards the kitchen.

"I can warm something up for you. Or I can make you a sandwich," he offered over his shoulder. "What would you prefer?"

"Could you maybe warm something up for me and also make me a sandwich for tomorrow?"

"You're pushing your luck."

Matt sighed. "Something warm, please." He sat at the kitchen table, propped his chin on his hand and watched while Benny prepared a plate for him and stuck it in the microwave.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"Water's fine, thanks."

When Benny slid the plate in front of him, Matt caught his wrist. He didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, just looked up at Benny, his hazel eyes red-rimmed with exhaustion. Benny reached with his free hand and stroked through Matt's hair.

"What?"

"This was really presumptuous of me. But I wanted to see you."

"Titian."

"Huh?"

"Your hair color. It's what I thought the first time I ever saw you, on the train."

Benny watched Matt's expression as it changed from surprise to amusement and finally to something gentle and warm, and then he had to look away.

"I wanted to see you, too," he said gruffly, pulling away from Matt's loose grasp. He went back to the counter. "Would you prefer mayonnaise or mustard? For your sandwich."

"Mustard, please."

Matt moaned appreciatively after the first bite. "Oh, wow, this is really good. Better than my mom's, though I will deny having said that." He wolfed the rest of the food down and Benny would have worried about indigestion, except that he'd now seen Matt around food enough times to know that he was the fastest eater he'd ever met. Probably came from trying to squeeze in meals as a resident.

Benny wrapped Matt's sandwich and put it on the table. Then he realized that by doing so, he was telling Matt that he expected him to take it and go, so he picked it up again to put it in the refrigerator. But that was assuming that Matt was staying over, which he hadn't actually given any indication of planning to do. Benny stood at the fridge, one hand on the handle, trying to decide how to handle the stupid sandwich, when he heard the chair scrape against the floor behind him, and then Matt's arms wound around his waist.

"You smell good," Matt whispered into his ear, then nuzzled his face into Benny's neck.

Benny set the sandwich on the counter, laid his hands on Matt's, and leaned back, resting his head against Matt's shoulder.

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

Benny opened the fridge door.

"Yeah."

He didn't even think of the photo until later, after Matt had undressed and slipped into the bed next to him, after he'd turned onto his side and pulled Matt's back against his chest, after Matt had started to snore, his body warm, solid and relaxed in Benny's arms. Moving with care so as not to disturb him, he unwound himself from Matt and sat up on the side of the bed, looking at the photo, angling it a little towards the light coming in from hallway, even though he knew all the details by heart, the sparkle of Phil's earring, the small bruise peeking from his collar where Benny had sucked up a hickey the night before, the slight squint he always developed when he'd drunk a little bit too much.

"You know I loved you, right? We didn't get to say goodbye, but you know that, right?" he murmured to Phil, but Phil just laughed on, leaning his head against Benny's, forever forty, the same age as Matt now. "Time for you two to go in an album," he told Phil and his own younger self. "Time for all of us to move on." He picked up the frame, running a finger along its smooth edges, then placed it in the nightstand drawer.

"Ben? Is everything alright?"

Matt had rolled over to face him. Benny lay down and reached for one of Matt's hands, twining their fingers together.

"Everything's fine," he confirmed, and kissed the palm of Matt's hand.

"Good," Matt said sleepily and a second later he was snoring again.

Benny didn't sleep. At some point he gentled Matt into rolling over, so that he could spoon against his back and hold him again. Every so often his eyes started leaking, and he didn't understand it, because he wasn't sad; eventually he just let the tears flow, trying to keep his breath even, so that Matt wouldn't wake up, but Matt did.

"Ben?"

"It's okay. Go back to sleep."

Matt rolled onto his back, pulled Benny into his arms and kissed the top of his head.

"Do you need me to leave?"

"No."

Matt didn't say anything else or ask Benny what was wrong. He stroked Benny's back, his palms warm against Benny's skin, until Benny had stopped crying and had mopped his tears and snot off his face and Matt's chest with the sheet, then they lay quietly, Benny occasionally sniffling.

"Do you have any pie?" Matt asked suddenly. "I really feel like a slice of pie right now."

"It's five thirty in the morning."

"So what?" Matt set Benny aside and got up. "If I happen to find any dessert in the fridge, should I come back with one spoon or two?"

Benny sighed. "Two. And it's pecan pie, so forks will probably work better."

He'd expected Matt to bring two slices, but instead he returned with the entire pie. They sat cross-legged on the bed, facing each other, their knees touching, and ate the whole thing, except for about three bites, which Matt declared he was saving for breakfast.

"Thanks for dinner, Benjamin," Matt said afterwards, leaning over to kiss Benny.

"You make fun of me every time you say my name, don't you?"

Matt grinned. "Not every time." Suddenly he yawned, a wide, jaw-cracking yawn that made Benny feel guilty for keeping him awake.

"What time are you due at the hospital?"

"Eight thirty latest."

Benny pushed lightly at his chest, so that he lay back.

"That means you can sleep for at least two more hours. Do you think you can manage?"

"Ben, any doctor worth his salt can fall asleep in two seconds flat, if they put their mind to it." He pulled Benny down onto his chest again. "Race you," he murmured.

Benny wasn't sure who won.

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

Between Thanksgiving and Christmas they seemed to be slipping into a closer relationship, although neither of them acknowledged it in so many words or made a big deal about it. They met for runs, purposely now. Matt dragged Benny to a hockey game. Benny taught Matt how to flip an omelet and how to make pancakes from scratch. They no longer looked for specific excuses to show up at each other's home, nor for permission to spend the night with each other.

Benny knew that he was falling in love in the same slow and quiet way he had in the past, only this time he was aware of it happening. He didn't know where things would lead, or if Matt was feeling the same way, and he didn't let himself think too far into the future.

Jordie called him to wish him a Merry Christmas. He was going to spend the holidays with David at a ski resort in Austria.

"You don't ski," Benny reminded him; Jordie had spent four winters in New Hampshire and his closest voluntary contact with any winter sport had been tray-sledding in the golf course once.

"No, but I après-ski on a professional level."

Benny could hear the smile in Jordie's voice.

"So it's going well."

"Yeah."

"I'm seeing someone too," Benny said, struggling a little with the words. "Roger's brother-in-law."

"The guy they were trying to set you up with?"

"Yes."

Jordie laughed. "Good thing I was otherwise occupied that weekend, then, huh?"

"I'm still mad at you about that, dickhead. You could have spared a couple of hours to help me out."

"Yeah, but where would you be now? Is it serious?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"That's good, Benny. If it's serious, I mean. Or even if it isn't."

"Jordie, did you ever think about the two of us? About maybe ending up together at some point?"

Jordie was quiet for a while and Benny traced a finger along a small gouge in his kitchen table, where he'd dropped the blender after one or five daiquiris too many during a party years ago.

"Yes. But it wouldn't have worked out."

"Why not?"

"Because you were right, Benny. We fucked once a year, and that was more because of the past than the present or any future we might have been thinking of."

"I don't think about the future now, either."

"No?"

"Sometimes," Benny admitted. Sometimes, when he watched Matt watching a movie, or when he saw his bright hair turn dark in the shower, or when Matt was stretched out beneath him, long legs and arms wrapped around him, sweaty and sated and half-asleep.

"Merry Christmas, Benny," Jordie said quietly. "Why don't you plan on a trip to Greece at some point next year? I'd like to show you around, and we've got plenty of room."

"Thanks, Jordie. A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you, as well. Have fun après-skiing."

Jordie chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure I will."