Screw Up

Tiny looked up from his drawing and gave Gayle a look as she inked a transfer. “I’m gonna guess Cale’s being missing has something to do with that?”

“Most likely.” Gayle went back to her work.

Stomping footsteps echoed down the hall leading from the office where the angry shout had originated. Brodie appeared, his face red as he gripped a crushed box in his fist.

“Why are there no more gloves? Where the fuck are the gloves?”

“We’re out?” Gayle asked. “That’ll hurt business.”

“No shit! Where the hell is Cale?”

Tiny looked up at a clock shaped like a skull. “He left about half an hour ago.”

“He snuck out, you mean!” Brodie slammed the empty box into a trashcan and stomped back toward the office. “There better be a case of gloves hidden back here or I’m kicking some major ass!”

“You have an appointment in about ten minutes. The guy who wants the tribal piece,” Tiny said.

“I have half a box of gloves left. You can use some of those,” Gayle offered without looking up.

“Shit! Fine.”

The door opened just then. Brodie’s appointment was apparently very eager.



“I just really liked the primal element.”

“Yeah, it’s a good piece you picked out.” Brodie dipped the tattoo gun in the ink and brought it back to finish off a line. “In a lot of cultures, the whole act of tattooing was a rite of passage.”

“Yeah. I really like that part of it. I want to be able to look back on this tattoo and remember the strife and turmoil I had to go through to finally accept who I am, you know?” The man looked down at his thigh where Brodie was working and smiled. “It was my own rite of passage to do it and to come here and just be me. If only for two weeks.”

“I totally understand, man. It takes guts to be yourself.” Brodie leaned back, wiped the excess ink off, and started the next line. The phone rang loudly, trying to make itself heard over the heavy beat of the music playing in the background.

Gayle picked the phone up. “Island Ink.” She paused and then walked toward Brodie. “It’s for you. You wanna take it?”

“Yeah.”

Gayle held the cordless phone to his ear so he wouldn’t have to remove his gloves. “Yeah?”

“Brodie Callow?” a woman’s voice asked.

“Yeah.”

“My name is June and I am an attending nurse at Anteros Hospital. We found your name and information on the emergency card carried by a Mr. Caleb White.”

Brodie sat up and he turned off the tattoo gun. “What happened?”

“Are you a relative or a significant other?”

“Yes.” He set his tattoo gun down and began pulling off his gloves. Yanking the phone out of Gayle’s hand, he asked, “What the hell happened?”

“Mr. White suffered a small bout of hypoglycemia. He’s doing well now, and resting. But he will need transportation home. Are you capable of taking him home, or would you like me to contact the ambulance company to arrange for transport?”

“No, I’ll be right there.” Brodie hung up and tossed the phone back to Gayle as he started toward the office. He stopped and spun back to face his client. “Hey man, I gotta go. Emergency. You still on the island tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll finish it then and knock twenty bucks off, all right?”

“Yeah, it’s cool.”

“Gayle, can you clean him up?”

“Sure. What happened?”

“Cale,” was all he said before he went back to get his keys and helmet from the office. He used the back entrance and was on his bike in seconds.



Brodie went right up to the main desk in the hospital lobby and was directed back toward the E.R. He got many wary looks as he strode determinedly through the halls. He reached the check-in desk and was told to wait a moment while they summoned a doctor.

Brodie paced in between the chairs, ignoring the few people waiting. He nearly went back to the desk to demand that he be let in when a tanned, blond man in a white coat came out.

“Brodie Callow?”

“Yeah.” Brodie and the doctor met each other halfway.

“I’m Dr. Tears. I was the one who attended to Caleb.”

“He’s fine?” Brodie asked with a frown.

“Yeah, he’s okay now. He gave me permission to speak freely with you. The ambulance was called after he began to show signs of altered consciousness. Basically means he was acting oddly and was probably agitated. An employee of the shop he was in called and he was brought right here. The paramedics found his Medical Alert bracelet and were able to administer Glucagon, which stabilized his condition. Right now, we are watching his insulin levels and he’s resting.”

Brodie nodded and released the breath he had been holding. “So he’s all right.”

“Yes, but I am concerned that he may not be taking care of himself. Of course, slip-ups happen, but I would feel better if I knew he was taking care of his diabetes. He’s young and that makes me worry he might be ignoring it.”

“No, he takes care of himself. I’d kick his ass if he didn’t. He just forgets sometimes.”

Dr. Tears nodded and smiled. “I figured as much. Once he was more coherent, he seemed fairly knowledgeable about his condition and even apologized. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t just trying to slip away without a lecture and a pound of pamphlets.” Dr. Tears stepped back and motioned toward the double doors. “You can go see him now. I just want to wait for the last urinalysis results, which should be here in just a few minutes, before I sign his release forms.”

Brodie was shown into the treatment area and pointed toward one of the closed curtains.

“Hi.”

Cale was sitting up on the sheeted gurney drinking out of a paper cup when Brodie came around the corner.

“Hey.” Brodie came into the small area and looked Cale over. Cale was a bit ragged around the edges: his hair was messy, his clothes looked rumpled, and his eyes were tinged a bit red. “You okay?” Brodie asked in a hushed voice, the kind reserved only for hospitals and funeral homes.

Cale nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced down at the cup in his hands and then back up at Brodie. “You’re pissed, aren’t you?”

“I’m waiting to hear what the hell happened.”

“Didn’t the doctor tell you?”

“Yeah, now I want your side of it. The non-technical side of it.”

Grimacing, Cale leaned back against the raised head of the bed and spoke. “I, um, screwed up on the glove ordering.”

“I knew it!” Brodie bit off his exclamation and tightened his lips.

“Yeah, so I ran out to get some at the pharmacy. I know you hate those, but I knew the shipment wasn’t going to make it in enough time, so I thought we could use the crappy kind until then. First, I stopped at the Post Office to ask Tom to let me know the second he got the new gloves in. Then I ran over to the pharmacy.”

“You ran?”

“The Tram wasn’t there, so I figured I could get there quicker if I just ran.”

“And you didn’t eat lunch, right?” Brosie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I was going to as soon as I got back with the gloves!”

Grunting in dissatisfaction with that answer, Brodie crossed his arms over his chest. “So you went into a meltdown at the pharmacy?”

Cale looked down at the paper cup again. “Well, no, I stopped in at that new store with the CDs real quick. I started freakin’ there.” He sighed. “Now I can’t hang out there. They probably think I’m a crack-head.”

“Goddamn it, Cale! You know better than to be running around in this heat and with no food in your gut, damn it!” Brodie hissed out. “I should kick your ass for this!”

“I’m sorry! I was just trying to fix the whole glove thing!”

“I should kick your ass for that too!”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Caleb?”

Both men stopped at the woman’s voice on the other side of the curtain.

“Yeah?” Cale called out.

The curtain moved back and a woman in her fifties sporting yellow scrubs came in. “The doctor says the tests are fine and you are free to go. I just need you to sign this and you’re all set.”

“Thanks.” Cale scrawled his name where the nurse pointed. She left after handing Cale instruction sheets on how to live as a diabetic. Cale grimaced and haphazardly folded them, shoving them into his back pocket.

“Did you have your stuff on you?” Brodie asked sharply as Cale slid off the gurney. “And the candy?”

“Yeah. See?” Cale held up the small blue case that he usually kept in one of the large cargo pockets on his jeans or hanging off the back of his belt. “I just wasn’t paying attention in enough time to eat anything.”

“Do you actually have your tester and strips in there?”

“Yes! Why would I carry this eyesore around if I didn’t?” Cale pulled back the curtain and headed for double doors with a large red exit sign over them.

Brodie grabbed his upper arm just as they walked into the waiting room. “Hey, don’t get bitchy with me! You’re the one that made me have to take a phone call from the hospital!”

Cale sighed and visibly calmed down. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I really was just trying to get back with the gloves before you noticed we were almost out.”

“Well, I noticed. And I’m pissed, but running this kind of risk is not fuckin’ cool.”

“I know!”

The men glared at each other for a silent moment. Finally, Brodie inhaled noisily and nodded his head toward where his bike was parked. “Let’s get home,” he said and started walking to his bike. Cale followed him.

“If I’d taken a second to think, I’d have borrowed the Jeep.” Brodie looked critically at Cale. “You think you can hang on?”

Cale pulled a face. “I said I was fine. I’ve fallen asleep while hanging on.”

“Yeah, and I was pissed at that, too!” Brodie growled. He tossed Cale’s helmet to him and swung his leg over the bike, settling down as he strapped on his helmet.

“I hate wearing this thing,” Cale grumbled as he put on his helmet.

“I saw a guy become a complete retard after he used his head to land on. You’re wearing it.”

The bike shifted as Cale climbed on and wrapped his arms around Brodie’s waist. They were soon on the road and winding their way back to Island Ink.



“See you in the morning, Brodie. Tell Cale not to scare us like that again, all right?” Tiny waved and shut the heavy iron door behind him, locking it with a solid clank. Brodie finished closing up the shop and then headed out the back door. After locking it behind him, he turned and climbed the wooden stairs into the converted apartment above Island Ink.

Brodie had originally slept in the empty loft when he had first opened, just because he hadn’t been able to afford anything else after buying the building. Afterward, he had found it convenient to stay and had slowly converted the loft into a habitable space. When Cale had moved in, it had prompted the addition of a kitchenette and a separate bathroom. Brodie had complained about it at first, but had found that not having to run downstairs to use the shop’s bathroom and being able to eat food not out of a Styrofoam box was too good to keep bitching about the expense.

“Dinner’s almost done,” Cale called out from the corner kitchen in the corner.

Brodie tossed his keys on the counter as he came in. He stood and watched Cale move around. “Did you stay down?”

Cale rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he said in an annoyed voice, then threw a smile over his shoulder. “Too bad you didn’t stay in bed with me.”

Brodie stayed silent as Cale dished up the stir-fry he had made and set the plates on their small dining table. They sat down in their mismatched chairs and Cale slid a fork toward Brodie.

“You still mad?” Cale looked up from the bite of food he was about to scoop into his mouth.

Brodie finished chewing and swallowed. “I like the peppers you used in this.”

“You are still mad.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Brodie slammed his hand down on the table. “I said I’m not, so leave it!”

Cale’s breathing had quickened at the loud bang and he slowly lowered his fork. “’kay.”

“Shit!” Brodie flung his own fork down as he stood up suddenly and grabbed Cale by the arm. He caught a glimpse of surprise in Cale’s eyes before he forced his way into Cale’s mouth, his tongue ruthlessly plundering it.

Cale’s chair toppled over as Brodie backed Cale against the wall, their mouths never parting. Cale’s hands were pinned above his head by one of Brodie’s, his mouth forced wider and wider by Brodie’s tongue.

The kiss ended suddenly. Brodie rested his forehead against the wall, next to Cale’s head, his heavy breathing making the hair at Cale’s nape dance. Cale stayed still, waiting, it seemed, for Brodie’s next move. The sound of their breathing and the ticking of an old clock were the only sounds in the room.

With a gentle lick, Brodie turned his head and began working his way up the lobe of Cale’s ear. Cale’s breathing picked up in tempo as one of his erogenous zones was activated. The odd metallic taste of all the hardware in Cale’s ear usually kept Brodie away and he often grumbled that he didn’t think Cale had enough flesh to feel anything anyway.

But right then, he took his time and worked his tongue in and around each hoop and post and dangle, gently playing with the lobe and sliding his tongue under the small curl at the top of the delicate shell.

“B-Brodie…,” Cale whispered and his hip jerked infinitesimally.

Ignoring him, Brodie bit a trail down Cale’s neck to his collarbone, laving it with his tongue. Upon releasing Cale’s hands, Brodie didn’t wait for them to drop before he was pulling Cale’s t-shirt over his head and once again pinning Cale’s hands to the wall, wrapped in cotton material.

With his access unimpeded, Brodie kept biting and licking his way down until he came to one hard nipple. He flicked his tongue over it before surrounding it with his lips. He flicked it again while it was inside his wet mouth. He could feel Cale’s growing excitement through the increased rising and falling of his chest and the way Cale arched his back, evidently craving more.

With a long lick up the smooth chest, the long neck, and over the chin, Brodie once again claimed Cale’s panting mouth. While he had him occupied, Brodie wrapped his arms around and under Cale’s ass and lifted him up. Cale scrambled to grab onto Brodie’s shoulders before he was laid on the bed on the other side of the large open room.

“Brodie?” Cale rose up on his elbows and watched Brodie strip his shirt off before he kneeled on the bed next to Cale. Brodie began unbuckling Cale’s belt and unzipping his fly, yanking the jeans down his lean hips, letting them rest on his thighs. Brodie had thought that Cale was a heroin addict when he had first seen him. Cale had been impossibly thin. He’d filled out in the time they had been together, after Brodie had nearly force-fed him. Cale was still incredibly lean, but in a much healthier way now; his hips still had hollows in them, though, creating perfect places for Brodie to hunker into to lick and bite.

“Mm… Brodie? You’re acting weird….”

Brodie ignored the breathy words above him and continued his exploration of Cale’s hips and belly. And then he began working his mouth over Cale’s thin dick. Cale was probably only five inches fully extended and Brodie was sure he could probably get the entire length into his mouth if he wanted. But he rarely gave blowjobs. In fact, he could only think of one other time he’d done it for Cale. Which was probably why Cale was now sitting upright and grabbing at Brodie’s head.

“Brodie! W-What are you doing?” Cale’s hands were in Brodie’s hair, gently tugging. Looking up, Cale’s dick still in his mouth, Brodie could see the shock and confusion written all over Cale’s face. With a hand decorated in old and faded tattoos, Brodie pushed Cale back down and went back to his fellatio.

Cale gave a strangled moan and his hips jerked again.

“Brodie…. I’m not going to last long if you keep….”

Brodie sucked hard on the spongy head in his mouth and was gratified by the odd air-sucking sound Cale made. Then with an odd jerk, Cale came and Brodie quickly let go and wiped his mouth across his forearm.

Before Cale had a chance to truly get back in a clear headspace, Brodie had pulled Cale’s jeans back up, zipped and buckled them, and had moved back toward the table to finish his dinner. Cale followed behind slowly and quietly, obviously still confused.

“Do you want a beer?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.”

Dinner was finished in silence.



It was the light pouring in from the skylight in the corner that had Brodie groaning and waking up in a not-so-happy mood. A look at the clock and he got even angrier when he realized he still had a couple hours before he had to get up.

“Damn it,” he muttered, now wide-awake. Well, he figured he might as well get up. Cale was a morning person. He’d probably wet himself if Brodie suggested breakfast out.

“Hey, Cale.” Brodie rolled up into a sitting position. “Get up.”

Brodie looked back when there was no stirring from the other side of the beaten-up mattress. “Yo, Cale! Get your ass up. Let’s go get some food.”

With a sigh, Brodie leaned over and smacked Cale’s ass. “Hey. Get up!”

There was still no movement. None.

He could feel his heart beating in his ears as he leaned over further and grabbed Cale by the shoulder. “Cale?” Brodie rolled a lifeless body onto its back. Cale’s eyes stared up sightlessly.

“Brodie!”

Brodie sat bolt upright and would have jumped out of the bed completely if Cale hadn’t been holding onto his arm.

Cale.

Naked and obviously just moments awake, Cale was staring at Brodie with concern. “Hey, you okay? You were, like, in a bad dream or something.”

“Holy shit!” Brodie whispered reverently and grabbed Cale close, pulling him tight against him.

Cale was stunned into not moving for a moment and then began to struggle for breath.

“Brodie? Brodie, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting so weird.”

Holding his face between his hands, Brodie looked down at Cale, his eyes burning and serious. “Don’t ever fucking do that to me again. I swear to god—if you ever make me think, even for a second, that you might be dead, I’ll kill you.”

Cale nodded. “Okay.”

“I mean it, Cale. Don’t do it.”

“Okay. I’m sorry about yesterday.” Cale leaned up and kissed Brodie’s tight and angry lips. “I really am. I’ll pay attention a lot better from now on.”

“You better.” Brodie backed off then, in desperate need of a shower and some space. “In fact, isn’t it time for a dose?”

“Yeah, it is.” Cale sat naked on the rumpled bed and watched Brodie shuck his boxers and walk toward the small bathroom.

“We’re eating out this morning.”

“Okay,” Cale answered. Then called out loudly, “I love you, too.”

Brodie shut the door and then opened it a crack. Cale would know it was an invitation.