Date: Fri, 2 Sep 2016 14:08:58 +0000 (UTC)
From: hankbrookscc@comcast.net
Subject: The Upside of the Badside   short story

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			 The Upside of the Badside

 The manner in which they met was so far out, the odds would have to be
astronomical to figure out the chance of a recurrence.  It would take a
genius, with an Einsteinian brain, to figure those odds.  This is how it
happened:

 Gabe Sloane was a first year resident at St. Vincent's Hospital in
Manhattan.  It was Friday evening, and he was off until Sunday morning.  He
had just completed a stretch of thirty-six hours on duty.  To refer to him
as bushed, would be a terrible understatement.  He had no desire to
celebrate TGIF in some bar.  All he wanted to do was to have a good meal,
without interruption, and go home to sleep all day Saturday.

 There was a great Chinese restaurant, near the hospital.  He intended on
eating a delicious meal, and then going home to bed.  After he ate his
meal, he went into the bathroom to pee and wash up.  He could easily walk
to his apartment, but he was too tired, and he decided that he was going to
take a cab.  As he was drying his hands, a handsome young man emerged from
a stall.  He seemed to be unsteady on his feet, and he was trying to zip up
his fly, but he seemed to be failing at the task.

 He started to leave the bathroom without washing his hands, and the health
conscious young doctor yelled at him.  "Hey, Dude.  You don't want to be
eating your meal without washing your hands.  It's not good for your
health."

 The young man turned to look at Gabe.  His eyes were glassy, and he had to
grab on to a sink to keep from falling.  "I'm not going to eat," he slurred
his words.  "I just needed to pee."

 As he said that, a stream of blood ran from his scalp, and down his
forehead.  Obviously the man had a severe head wound.  Instinctively, Gabe
ran to the man to see what was going on, and to determine if there was
anything he could do.  The man began to fall to the floor, and Gabe caught
him before he could do further damage to himself.  He was gushing blood
from his scalp.

 Gabe grabbed a wad of paper towels from the sink.  He slapped them on the
open wound and pressed down tightly with his left hand.  His right hand
fumbled for his phone.  He finally got it out of his pocket, and dialed
911.

 When his right hand was free again, he tried to get to the unconscious
man's back pockets to see if he had a wallet.  His pockets were empty, but
Gabe did note that the man had a firm bubbly ass.  He chastised himself for
having carnal thoughts during the emergency, but he was gay, after all, and
his first impression was that the man was very handsome, in spite of the
circumstances.

 The paper toweling was so wet with blood that Gabe discarded it, and took
a new wad.  His first efforts had paid off.  The wound was now merely
seeping blood, instead of gushing.  When Gabe changed the makeshift
dressing, he concluded that the wound was not caused by a sharp instrument,
but rather by blunt force.  There was nothing more he could do before the
ambulance arrived so he took the man's pulse as best he could.  It seemed
to be normal.

 Finally, the EMT's arrived and took over from Gabe.  The first thing he
did was pay the cashier for his meal.  Then as the man was being wheeled to
the ambulance, Gabe identified himself as a doctor on staff at
St. Vincent's.  He asked that the wounded man be taken there, and he got
permission to ride with his "patient" in the ambulance.

 In the emergency room, the nurses kidded him for not knowing how to enjoy
his time off.  Gabe shook his shoulders, and took over.  The bleeding had
stopped, so he ordered a cat scan to see if he could determine the extent
of the damage.  One of the ER doctors rushed in, and ordered Gabe out of
the ER.  "Go home." he said.  "You need some rest."  There was nothing Gabe
could do, but go home.  He stayed in bed all day Saturday, but he could not
get the man with the head wound off his mind.  He hardly slept at all.

 He knew that once he got to the hospital on Sunday morning, he would be
too busy to look in on the John Doe he had accompanied in the ambulance, so
Saturday afternoon, at about 5 PM, he got up, showered, made himself a ham
and cheese sandwich, and went to the hospital.  The man was still listed as
John Doe.  The staff had strict instructions to call the police, when the
man woke up.  Actually, the cops would have liked to have listed the
incident as a fall, and be done with it, but protocol required that they
investigate every such incident as a possible crime.

 Gabe went to his locker and put on his lab coat with his ID badge.  John
Doe was in a semi-private room, and Gabe went to look in on him.  His head
was bandaged.  The first thing Gabe did was to read John's chart.  His hair
had been shaved off in the area of the wound, and his scalp was cleaned
with antiseptics.  For the sake of caution, the wound was closed with a few
stitches, even though the bleeding seemed to have stopped.  The duty nurse
was instructed to try to rouse him every hour, but so far, he remained
comatose.  His vital signs were all normal.  The cat scan could not
determine any brain damage.

 Gabe took a chair and placed it at John's bedside.  He sat down and took
John's limp hand into his own.  John did not move a muscle.

 In spite of lying in bed all day, Gabe had stayed mostly awake.  The
moment he took John's hand, he dozed off.  The nurse continued to try to
wake up the patient all through the night, but she had no success.  While
trying to rouse John, she tried not to disturb the doctor.  She knew how
many hours a day he worked, and she did not begrudge him his much needed
sleep.

 As the ward became busy with morning routines, Gabe woke up.  He intended
to pee, and report for duty.  He started to stand up, but something held
him back.  As limp as John's grip had been the evening before, he was now
squeezing Gabe's hand so tightly, that Gabe had to pry it loose.  He
believed that this was a good sign.  He noted the incident in the patient's
chart, and went to work.

 He had a few extra minutes on his lunch hour and he went to visit John
Doe.  The nurse told him that John was still asleep, but now he was growing
restless, and tossing and turning.  He seemed to be very agitated, and the
doctor had ordered that he be restrained.  He would have liked to have
ordered a sedative, but given the situation, he decided against it.

 Once again Gabe took the man's hand.  John squeezed it tightly, and
settled right down.  He stopped turning and twisting, and slept quietly.
Gabe pried himself loose again.  He had to get back to work.

 He was on duty until 10 AM on Monday morning.  If time allowed during his
shift, instead of taking a nap in the doctor's lounge, he went to sit
beside John Doe.  On one of those visits, just as he took hold of John's
hand, he heard a weak voice say, "Please don't hurt me anymore."

 Gabe leaned over John.  "Who hurt you?" he asked softly.

 John opened his eyes and looked into Gabe's eyes.  "They did.  They always
threatened to bash the faggot, and they finally did."  He continued to
stare at Gabe.  His eyes were a deep, seductive, brown.  He fell asleep
again, and as before, Gabe entered the incident in John's chart.  He had
also learned that the patient was gay.  He didn't know why, but that little
bit of information, made him very happy.  He hoped that by morning, they
could call the police and question him.

 Early the next morning, when the nurse tried to awaken John, he opened his
eyes, and said, "I'm thirsty."

 The nurse ran to get him some ice water.  She dabbed his parched lips
lightly, and had him sip slowly through a straw.  As she did that, John's
eyes were darting around the room.  "Where am I?" he asked.  "What
happened."

 "Don't try to speak," the nurse said.  "I'm going to call the doctor."

 While waiting for the doctor, John dozed off again.  When the doctor got
there, he thought John was sound asleep, but he asked, "Are you awake?"
John opened his eyes and nodded.  Dr. Gregory was pleased.  The patient
understood him, confirming the lack of brain damage.

 The doctor began to ask him mundane questions like who was the president
today, who was the first president of the United States, what year was
this, etc.  Satisfied at the responses, the questions got more personal.

 "What's your name?" Gregory asked.

 "Mark Daley."

 "How old are you?"

 "Twenty-seven."

 "What's your address?"

 "227 West Thirteenth Street, Apartment 3B."

 "Do you work?"

 "Yes, I'm a lawyer."

 "What's the name of your firm?"

 "Martin and Dyer."

 The doctor stopped asking questions. He was smiling broadly.  "You're
doing great," he said.  "I'll be back to see you later today."

 No sooner did he leave, then two police officers came in.  "We need to ask
you a few questions, Mr. Daley," one of them asked.  Obviously Mark's
personal information was now common knowledge to the staff and the police.
"Do you know who did this to you?"

 "Not by name.  I live just a few streets from my office and I like to
walk, weather permitting.  There are a group of teen agers always hanging
out at the corner of my office building.  I passed by them about a month
ago.  They called me a faggot, and jeered at me.  I determined not to let
them bother me, so I took the same route home every day, and after a while
I just ignored them.  Their taunts just bounced off me.

 On Friday night I was headed for my favorite bar for a TGIF drink. They
appeared out of nowhere and began to beat me with a stick.  I think it was
a baseball bat.  I passed out.  When I came to, I needed to pee badly, so I
went into the Chinese restaurant just up the street.  That's all I remember
until I woke up a short while ago."

 The police were satisfied, and they left, knowing full well that they
didn't have the man power to pursue the matter any further.  They had done
their duty, and that was that.

 After they left, a woman from the administration office came in.  She
asked Mark if there was anyone she should call, and he gave her his office
number.  "Please call my brother, Luke, also," he said, and he gave her
Luke's number.  He didn't know his insurance company account number but he
gave her the name of the company.  "I get insurance through my employers,
so if you call the insurance company, I'm sure you can get what you need."

 All those visitors exhausted him, and he dozed off.  In his sleep he felt
someone take his hand.  The hand felt like a security blanket, and he
squeezed it tightly.  "Mark, are you awake?" A voice asked softly.

 He opened his eyes and looked at the face of a handsome young doctor
smiling at him.

 "I know you from somewhere," Mark said, "but I can't remember where."

 Gabe pulled up the chair, and sat down beside Mark.  As they squeezed
their hands tighter together, Mark said, "You've been here to visit me
before.  I recognize your grip.  Who are you?  Why are you concerned for
me?"

 Gabe filled Mark in on the scene in the men's room.  Mark could not recall
the incident.  He admitted that the last thing he remembered was walking
into the restaurant.

 "Dr. Gregory says that you'll be good as new in a day or two.  You'll be
discharged Wednesday at the latest.  Would you mind if I come by your
apartment to check on you after that?"

 "I'd like that very much," Mark said.

 "I'm going home to shower and put on fresh clothes.  I'll be back later in
the afternoon."

 "I'll look forward to it," Mark said, and he squeezed Gabe's hand tighter.

 In his shower, Gabe began to think about Mark, and his cock grew hard.  He
was surprised about that, but it needed his attention.  He stroked himself
to a finale, all the while dreaming that he and Mark were making love.  He
imagined that Mark's cock was up his ass.  Then he fantasized that his
prick was in Mark's mouth.  His orgasm was off the charts.  He was
beginning to suspect that he was falling in love with Mark.

 When he got to Mark's room, Gabe was surprised to see that Mark had a
visitor.  A young man, just as handsome as Mark, was sitting in the chair
alongside Mark's bed.  They were holding hands and smiling at each other.
Gabe could not explain the feeling of jealousy which came over him.  Mark
looked up and spotted Gabe.  He broke out into a big smile.

 "Doctor," he said, "come and meet my kid brother, Luke.  This is Gabe,
Luke."

 "So you're the famous Gabe," Luke said.  "You're all that Mark has talked
about since I got here."  Gabe was feeling better and better.

 Luke looked at Mark.  "Bro," he said.  "Now that you are in good hands, a
doctor, no less, I'm taking off.  I've got a hot date tonight."

 "Okay.  Have fun.  I'll see you tomorrow."

 "Call me the minute you know when you'll be discharged, and I'll come and
get you," Luke said, as he ran out of the room."

 "We live together," Mark said, by way of explanation.

 Gabe sat down again, and took Mark's hand into his.  Gabe was sure now
that the squeezing was getting stronger.  He liked it.  He was dying to
tell Mark that he knew that he was gay, and wanted to date him, but he
decided to play it cool

 "You know that I saved your life?" Gabe asked.  "Tradition requires that
you do whatever I ask," Gabe smiled at Mark.

 "And what did you have in mind" Mark smiled back.

 "Dinner with me Friday night, if you're up to it.  My treat.  I thought we
could go to the Chinese restaurant where I found you.  That would be
appropriate, don't you think?  I'm off every Friday evening until Sunday
morning, so we can finally eat leisurely without my being on the run."

 They didn't realize it, but the whole time Gabe was visiting, the two men
held hands.  They began to talk about their lives, and Gabe decided to come
out to Mark.

 "I'm lucky," Gabe said.  "I came out to my folks the day before I left to
go to college.  My two brothers already knew, and they stood by in case
they needed to pick up the pieces.  My folks said that they suspected.  My
father called his three boys together into a group hug.  `I love you all
the same,' he said.  My mother piped in, `Me too,' she said."

 "You're gay?" Mark asked, as if he didn't know.  "I am too."

 "I know.  You outed yourself to me during a lucid moment when you were in
a coma."  Gabe stood up, still holding Mark's hand.

 "You're not leaving?" Mark asked in concern.

 "No, I just wanted to do this."  He leaned into Mark, and gave him a
chaste, closed mouth kiss.  Mark returned the kiss with a little bit of
spit.  Gabe sat down again.  They were still holding hands.

 "Let me tell you my story," Mark said.  "I wasn't as fortunate as you.
Maybe I should say that I was lucky not to have come out until I graduated
law school.  I had just taken a two-bedroom apartment near my new office.
When I told my folks that I was gay, my dad ordered me out of the house.
He was very cruel, and said that he never wanted to see me again.  Luke
knew that I was gay, and he began to object.  He called my father a Class A
bigot, and he got kicked out also.  We share a nice apartment in the city,
and neither of us miss our parents.  Well, maybe a little bit at
Christmas."

 "Is Luke gay?" Gabe asked.

 Mark laughed.  "No, he's very straight.  You should see the floozies, he
takes into his bedroom."

 "Do you bring tricks home?" Gabe asked.

 "Hardly ever.  I'm too busy at work to get out much.  I might as well join
a monastery."

 "I'm in the same boat," Gabe said.  "My shifts are thirty-six hours long.
When I'm off duty all I want to do is sleep."

 "Are you sure you want to go out Friday evening.  Wouldn't you rather
sleep?"

 "Only if you wanted to sleep with me."

 "I would like to do that.  I'd like that a lot."

 "Tell you what.  Let's have dinner and then go to sleep."

 "That's great in theory," Mark said, "but I don't intend to let you get a
lot of sleep."

 "I hope that's a promise and not a threat."

 "What do you think?"  Mark asked, and he pulled Gabe to him.  Mark kissed
Gabe with an open, very slobbery mouth.

 They were still holding hands.  Mark placed their clasped hands under his
sheet, and he laid Gabe's hand on his extremely hard cock.  He looked into
Gabe's eyes, and pleaded, "Please get me off.  I need it badly, and I want
you to give me the pleasure."

 Gabe smiled and began to stroke Mark's cock.  Neither of them gave a
thought to the elderly man in the next bed.  He seemed to be oblivious to
everything, including his surroundings.  It didn't take Mark long to cum,
and all the while the two of them were kissing.  Mark wasn't very quiet at
his climax.  Gabe expected the nurse to come in to investigate.  Nobody
came in.  Gabe cleaned the mess with some tissues.

 "I can't wait to share a bed with you," Mark said to Gabe.

 The next day, just as Mark was being served lunch, the policeman who had
taken his statement, entered his room.  Mark could see from his name tag
that his name was O'Brien.  When Mark saw him, he said, "I've told you all
I know, Officer O'Brien."

 "That's not what I came about, Mr. Daley.  I want to confess that we had
no intention of trying to catch your assailants.  We have more pressing
cases to contend with.  As long as they didn't murder you, and you were
recovering, we put you on the back burner.

 "Last night one of our off-duty detectives happened to walk by the corner
where you were attacked.  Three teen-aged boys were loitering there.  All
of a sudden they ran at him, called him a faggot, and raised baseball bats
at him.  He drew his gun, and held it right on them.  He ordered them to
drop the bats, and he called for back-up.  We ran them in, but we need you
to ID them."

 "I'm being discharged tomorrow.  Just tell me where to go, and I'll be
there.  I was harassed by them for almost a month before they attacked me.
I know every line in their faces."

 O'Brien gave Mark a card, and said, "Here's my card.  Call me tomorrow,
and I'll tell you where to go."

 "Is the off-duty detective gay?" Mark asked.

 "Not at all.  We think those kids were just on a joy ride, and would have
picked on anybody. It was all fun and games for them."

 Mark had Gabe's cell phone number.  After O'Brien left, he called Gabe,
and gave him the good news.

 "Now we have much to celebrate Friday evening.  Just get discharged
quickly, my love," Gabe said.

 All Gabe could afford on a resident's salary was a furnished studio
apartment, so he moved in with Mark and Luke.  Luke had to keep telling
them to tone down their love making.  He said that they were embarrassing
him.  To which they replied that he was no quieter.

 The brothers did not miss their parents that Christmas.  They were welcome
guests in Gabe's parents' home, along with Gabe's two brothers.  Luke and
Gabe's brothers became really good friends, and formed their own little
brotherhood.

 In their need to have loving parents, Luke and Mark kept hugging Gabe's
mother, and Gabe's father whispered in his son's ear, "You have very good
taste, Gabe."