And Call Me in the Morning (17 page)

Fuck
was right. No more thinking. He saw Zane in sensations, not visuals. The flex and clench of his muscles, the salty sweat on his back, the tightness of his ass. Eli forgot to pay proper attention to the reach around, remembering only when Zane sobbed and covered Eli's hand with his, bearing down. Too much to remember at once, too much of everything, yet not enough. Instinct, powerful and guiding, drove him through that wet heat again, again, never stopping. He could feel the end building, white heat burning bright as molten iron.

“Close?” he asked, jacking Zane fast and hard, the
snick snick snick
of his hand far louder than their ragged breathing. He drew back and held it, though the effort made his legs ache and shake. He stroked Zane's cock and pressed his thumb on the head. Listened to him shout, and though they'd been here before, it was still a shock and a thrill to feel Zane freeze and the stream of cum flow down his fist to drip heavy onto the sheets.

No holding back, not any longer. Eli set his hands, one slippery with cum, on Zane's hips and held him still. He lost his head and everything else, stroking faster, as fast as he could. God, he wanted to see. Next time. Sweat dripped into his eyes, making them sting and screw tightly shut. Almost there—almost—

His cockhead caught on the puckered rim of muscle, bumped and held, and the orgasm charged out of Eli. He shouted, making the walls echo, and bowed forward to slam his forehead to Zane's back as he came.

He held it there as long as he could, wanting it to last forever. If it was always this good, then it was worth anything else. And not just this. The whole Zane package. Given freely, they were all his.

It was what he'd always wanted, even if he'd never known that. Now all he had to do was keep it.

“Not exactly how I'd seen this night working out.” Zane accepted the warm, wet washcloth Eli laid on his stomach and swabbed both haphazardly and lazily, his grin as loopy as if he'd just gotten off a roller coaster. Eli supposed in a way he had. Adrenaline, endorphins, amazement that he'd lived to tell about it, and the urge to shout, “Again!”

Eli chuckled at himself, took the washcloth back and did a proper—better, anyway—job of clean-up. That done, he collapsed on his back. In the wet spot. Bah; he couldn't be bothered to move. He held one arm out at his side, silently beckoning Zane in.

Zane laid his head to rest over Eli's heart. “Going like a rabbit's,” he said around a yawn. “Some kind of vigor you've got there, old man.”

Eli slapped Zane's ass. “I'll 'old man' you.”

“Yes, please,” Zane murmured, Cheshire-cat smug.

“Not yet.” Eli made sure they were both comfortable and that he had Zane pinned firmly next to him. “Ready to tell me what all that earlier was about?”

Zane groaned. “Afterglow, Eli. Learn to enjoy it.”

“I will once I've got this straightened out.” Eli didn't let go. “I can start, if it'd help.” Some things became clearer after a man had worked off all the frustration that clouded his head. “Point one. You were pissed because I threw out Duke like it was a real option.”

“Point one,” Zane acknowledged. He'd slumped against Eli but hadn't gone anywhere, so Eli still counted that as a win.

Eli kissed the top of Zane's head. “I'm an idiot. This came as a surprise to you?”

Zane's shoulders shook with amusement. “Not really. But hell, I'm an idiot too sometimes, so I can't throw stones. My wants aside, I shouldn't hold you back. It's a good opportunity, Eli. Damned good. Anyone who's kicking ass and taking names like you are as a hospitalist would be a much bigger fool not to be tempted.”

“I'm not,” Eli insisted.

Zane shrugged.

That wouldn't do. Eli gave Zane a small shake. “I'll swear in blood if I have to, but I hoped I'd already done that with other bodily fluids.”

He could feel Zane's nose wrinkle against his chest. “Afterglow. Do I have to get a dictionary for you?”

Eli thumped him between the shoulder blades. Not hard. He didn't have the energy. Afterglow, hell. After a good round of sex like that,
not
falling into a coma was the big challenge.

Zane was quiet, then sighed. “Okay. I believe you.”

“
Thank
you.” Eli had the feeling this wasn't over quite yet. Not a great sensation, but what good would it do to pick a fight over picking a fight? He let it go. For now. “Your turn. What's got you so worked up that you're barking at shadows?”

Zane shook his head, the tips of his hair oddly rough on Eli's bare chest. Too much agitated pulling on them, Eli guessed. “What do you think? The clinic. It means that much to me, and you know it does. Out there, medicine is as real as it gets in this city. Working men who can't afford a specialist looking for a last hope.”

Eli pulled Zane an inch or so closer to him. “Don't think I don't remember.”

Zane wasn't done. “And not just men like you. There are mothers who come in carrying kids for whom a shot means the difference between life and the alternative. Punks who need to be tested and don't have anywhere else to go. Scared people. Desperate people. It's ugly and it's harsh and it's beautiful, being able to do something that matters more than a tidy little nip and tuck.”

“It's pretty real in the hospital too, Zane. We deal in life and death same as the clinic.”

“For people who can pay. I just…I spend my time in the clinic because there, that's the last place where I enjoy my career.”

Eli swept his thumb from side to side on Zane's back. “What are you saying?”

“I don't know. No. I do.” Zane tangibly gathered his strength, then looked up at Eli. Though he had to crane his neck, he made eye contact. “If it weren't for you, odds are good I'd have left medicine years ago.”

The confession took Eli's breath away.

“It's true,” Zane said, steady now that he'd made himself start. “Working with you is the only thing that keeps me getting up in the morning and walking in those doors.” He propped his chin on Eli's ribs and rubbed the point beneath one nipple. “Duke, the clinic, that's not all I was pissed about.”

“I got the feeling,” Eli said. All he could do was hold on. This, he hadn't even been able to think about, because it was just too much. “What you said. In the loading dock. You said you loved me.”

Zane did not break eye contact. “I did, and I meant it.”

“Zane—”

“No. Hear me out.” Zane used the point of his chin to make sure Eli didn't move. “I have loved you for maybe a year now.”

“Jesus Christ, Zane.” Eli didn't—What did he do with that? “You never said.”

“You wouldn't have listened. Or you'd have misunderstood me.” Zane laid his cheek on Eli's chest but otherwise held steady. “I wasn't planning on—this,” he said, caressing lower, firm and possessive. “I don't think I knew it would be this kind of love too. Except when I thought about Diana and Holly teasing us and I couldn't get it out of my head. And then I started to dream. Once I did, I couldn't stop. And that's that.”

Christ. Loved him? Not that he didn't feel it too, inside, but to bring it out in the open… Eli couldn't. Not yet. All he could do was tighten his hold on Zane and try to say with that what he couldn't otherwise.

Zane finally let his eyes fall shut. “I know you,” he said quietly. “It's okay. I can wait, if you think you'll get there in the end. Waited a year already, right?”

This mattered. Eli swallowed, the sound loud and painful but necessary because the lump in his throat was choking him, and nodded. Because that wasn't enough, he pulled Zane tight and said, rusty raw, “Yes.”

“That's all I can ask.” Zane relaxed. Mostly relaxed. “Do you know why I told you the story about that woman in Paris?”

Eli tensed. He'd hoped not to hear any more about her. “No.”

Zane bit him, just lightly. “Because I wanted you to know what kinds of people I fall in love with. The ones who step in and take me out of myself. Who aren't the ones I'm supposed to love. Plain folks with no bullshit. Who care. Who can feel passion.” He turned his face from Eli. “The ones who make me feel something good. There was her. Almost twenty years later, there was you.”

Eli let his hand fall atop Zane's head. He smoothed Zane's hair down. “Lonely life.”

“It was,” Zane said. He rose to balance himself on one arm and leaned over Eli, face above his, his breath warm on Eli's cheeks. “Not anymore. It matters, Eli. So much. You want to keep it private? Fine. I shouldn't have pushed.”

“Hiding isn't your way.”

“But it is yours.” Zane pushed Eli down. “Whatever it takes. I just need you. Don't leave me.”

“Shh.” Eli knew what Zane needed. He guided Zane down to him. “Like I said before, I've got you.”

And I am never letting go.

“Now this is more my style. These? They are my people.” Eli swabbed the last of his toast—plain, white bread toast, bad for you, even worse when it'd been fried—through the last drops of egg yolk from his two sunny-side ups and reached for the ketchup to better attack his hash browns. “I think I want bacon too. The absolute hell with good health, and I know what I'm talking about. I'm a doctor.”

Zane had to put down his mug lest he either choke or spill. He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. Eli took a moment to enjoy the sight of Zane bright and energetic and, dare he say it, happy. “You're in a rare mood today.”

“And why shouldn't I be?” Among other things, they'd gone nearly two weeks since the blowup over Duke and enjoyed smooth sailing since then. “With this food? I'm in heaven. That's where I am.”

Richie reappeared from behind the grill, red kerchief doing its best to constrain his wiry curls. He flipped Eli the finger. Taye, returning to his seat at the end of the diner table, laughed and offered Zane a high five. “That's what you get for trying to be cute.”

“Ah, don't hate the player because he's good at the game.” Eli popped in a bite of greasy, salty, delicious hash browns and washed them down with coffee he knew Richie had made. A little touch of the good life down here with the salt of the earth. Perfection.

“How's he finding the adjustment?” Zane asked Taye, taking his own pancakes much more slowly but with thoughtful appreciation.

Eli watched with interest. Taye seemed to be a force unto himself. Wherever Eli went, there Taye eventually turned up. Fate, kismet, karma, luck, whatever you wanted to call it. This was only the second time since that first god-awful brunch that Zane and Taye had spent more than a hot moment together, and so help Eli, he wanted it to go well.

Taye, eating toast with grape jelly, grinned a purple grin. “Like a duck to water and a congressman to the cash pot. Would you believe he gets better tips here?”

Eli stopped with a forkful of potatoes hanging in the balance. “Since when do cooks get tips?”

“Exactly his point. We rich folk can be stingy bastards.” Without looking across the table at Eli, Zane stole the forkful. “Good God. Are these just a vehicle for ketchup?”

“Essentially? Yes.” Eli closed his eyes and let himself soak in the noisy clatter of the diner, the cheerful shouts of the regulars, and the smells of the food he'd woken up to year after year. Not that it was a dump; as diners went, Richie had found employment in one of the nicer of the breed. Clean as the proverbial whistle, bright, airy. But they knew how to feed people the way doctors said you never, ever should. Perfection.

He tuned in halfway through a conversation between Zane and Taye, who perched on an extra chair at the end of the two-man table as casually as if he'd always been there, though he was bumped or jostled every half minute by someone passing through.

“So, my specialty track for my medical residency. Clinical psych. Holly II, he called me.” Taye feinted a mock jab at Eli, who jabbed back. “I'd thought about it before, but Eli was the one who made me consider the option seriously,” Taye said, folding his hands under his chin. “What do you think?”

Zane took the question in equal solemnity, treating Taye to the full force of his gaze. Unlike the first time they'd met, Taye returned it inch for inch. Eli hung out comfortably on the perimeter, full and content.

“I think it's not quite you,” Zane said at last. “I've seen you in action. You have a cool head in a crisis, and true, you might get some of those in clinical psych, but I think you'd be happier in the long run out where there's more adrenaline pumping.”

“Hmm. Not sure I agree, but I'll take it into consideration.” Taye took that well. He dug into the inner pocket of his jacket and withdrew a flyer, a folded packet, and a brown envelope. “This is the other option I'd been thinking about.” He pushed the papers over to Zane.

Eli read the logo upside down. His eyebrows rose. “Doctors Without Borders?”

Taye nodded. “When I've got more experience under my belt. I think I could fit there.”

Zane was already eyeball-deep in the literature. “You could do a hell of a lot of good,” he murmured, mostly absorbed. “What about Operation Smile?”

“Also a possibility.”

Huh. Eli tapped the side of his thick coffee mug. “What this, what about that, but—what about Richie?” he asked, watching the young man behind the grill. He understood better now what Taye saw in Richie. The starry-eyed way the two acted when they were together, even when they were being discreet.

He guessed that was what you'd call love. No. He knew it.

“We've talked about it.” Taye made to take the papers back, then shook his head. “You keep those for now. I'll get them back later.” To Eli, he said, “It'll be a while before we decide where to go and when. I need to finish my residency and so on. Richie's at Kendall College, School of Culinary Arts. We're both making our way.”

Zane raised his mug to his lips. He'd been about to say something but drifted off briefly and then swore his way out of it when his pager thrummed.

“Some things never change, huh?” Eli nudged Zane's foot with his under the table.

Zane gave him a curious but interested look. “Sometimes they do.” He checked the pager and grimaced. “Unfortunately, not this. I'll be right back.”

Taye waited for Zane to clear the area before turning to Eli. “Okay. Why did you really want me in on this breakfast?”

“What, you're assigning hidden agendas to me now?”

Taye shrugged and waited.

“It's almost like you know me.” Eli sighed. He dabbed up the last bite of hash browns and licked his thumb. “Where do I go from here?
Don't
say anything about me asking for help. It took a steel worker's breakfast and a hell of a lot of pep talking before I could do it, so let's just skip that part.”

Taye eyed Eli thoughtfully before nodding. “Okay. I need more to go on, though. Where are you now, where do you want to be, that kind of thing.”

“Now? Now, we're good.” Eli had to hide his ridiculously fond smile behind his hand. “Sort of. He wants… Hell, he's not saying it that often anymore, but he wants to be able to show affection in public, and I…” He sighed. “You know me well enough to know I'm something of a cripple that way.”

“Mmm.” Taye pressed his knuckles together. He'd almost healed up from the walloping he'd taken, though it looked like he'd carry a scar with him over his cheekbone. “You want me to teach you how to overcome that?”

“Yes.”

“I can't.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not because I don't want to. Understand that. It's just that people are people. Join the heavily populated club. If you're not comfortable being affectionate outside the home, then don't.”

Eli could feel his skin suffuse with heat. “That's not the point,” he said, low. “I want to. I just can't seem to make myself. I get the urge—I freeze. Deer in the headlights. Zane's putting up with it, he's great that way, but for the first time in my life, I want to lay it out there, and now…I find I can't.” Good mood dimmed and appetite finally gone, he pushed his plate away from him. “That's what I need help with.”

“Okay. Give me a minute.” Taye rested his chin on his hand and watched Eli. Eli fidgeted under the observation and thought to himself that Zane was wrong. Taye had been born for clinical psych and shaped from some primal clay to be Holly's protégé.

“Enough, already.”

“There are no easy answers,” Taye said, sitting back. “There is one piece of advice I can give you. Maybe it'd help.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Hey, Taye! Come over to the counter for a minute?” Richie called from behind the grill.

“Go on, go on.” Eli shooed him. “We can finish this some other time.”

“We can.” Taye drummed a quick tattoo on the tabletop. “But once begun, better get it done. My advice is to tell Zane himself how you feel. Tell him that you love him.”

The breath whooshed out of Eli. “You don't start small, do you?”

“We're way past the starting block,” Taye told him, getting to his feet. “Once you've said it, things change. It might be easier then. Might not. Even if it doesn't, you still should. It's something people need to hear.” He dodged aside to let Zane back into the booth. “See you two later.”

* * * * *

Zane slid into the booth, already reaching for his mug before his ass properly hit the seat. “That was oddly like meeting the parents.”

Eli smirked. “Can't get anything past you, can I?”

“You want the pair of us to get along, don't you?” Zane swirled his mug instead of drinking, watching Eli with an intensity that suggested the answer mattered more than Eli might have thought, though he wasn't sure why.

“He's a good kid. He'll make a great doctor. And he reminds me of you.”

“Funny.” Zane cracked a grin. “He reminds me of
you
.”

“So I've heard. I still don't see it, not really.”

Zane shrugged that off. He slid the Doctors Without Borders literature Taye had left closer, falling back into his reading. “This is…I don't know.” Eli could see him zone out over one of the pictures, stroking it lightly with his fingertip.

Eli couldn't help but notice Zane's pager had been turned off. “Something up?”

“Administrative bullshit, more axes showing up to hang over the free clinic. I really, really don't want to talk about it. I'm having a good breakfast and apparently making new friends.” Zane flicked his fingertips to the side. “Leave it for now.”

“Uh-huh,” Eli said. “You can't get anything past me either, you know.”

That got Zane to look up, nose wrinkled. “You'd be surprised. Come to think of it, you were plenty surprised, and not that long ago.”

Fair point. Eli didn't mind the nudge, not like he might have. Funny how things changed, wasn't it? Besides, he had other things on his mind. Zane studied those brochures with something in his eye that Eli had become accustomed to seeing only when they were alone together. Took him a second to put a name to it:
yearning.