Nick
It wasn't every day that my guilt trips worked, but it was a great day when they did. 'Specially cause Heather was on her knees and I was in the throes of my own happy Nick world, relishing the feel of her lips on my...well, yanno. When she moved her hand up to join in the fun, my feet hit hard on the ground and slid, spreading even wider. That's when her hand turned.
Sometimes the body reacts in amazing ways. Like when you walk into a room and everyone yells 'Surprise!' your body just knows to jump, right?
Well when a diamond ring the size of Mt. Everest scratches the entire length of your johnson, at first it feels amazing.
Until the girl giving you the job pulls back and you see the blood.
Then you feel the pain.
You can ask any guy, but we're okay with blood anywhere except there. Heather's eyes were almost as large as the weapon that had impaled me when I began to scream. It was a girly 'I'm gonna die if you don't kill this spider!' type of scream.
"Nick, it's...it's okay!" she gasped. She grabbed a white towel. When the blood stained it pink, my scream rose. That's when the door flew open.
I don't think I'll ever forget the look on Brian's face. He took in Heather first, her lips are shiny from saliva and all the bubbles over her naked body that had pretty much dissolved. Then he looked at me. Then he looked down. Then he looked back at Heather. His gaze kinda locked on Heather, now that I think back on it...
"Jesus," he whispered. Considering the boy never took the lord's name in vain, I knew my situation was dire. I need not worry about children...hel l, I probably didn't need to worry about having sex ever again.
God, I was gonna miss it.
"I need to go to the hospital. Damnit, I'm gonna bleed to death."
"What's going--jumping Jedidiah!"
As if things couldn't get any worse, Marietta ended up behind Brian. The sound of her mom's voice caused Heather to move. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body. Her face turned scarlet. That's when I realized.
No one was paying attention to me. I made the mistake of looking down again.
That's when things got fuzzy...
Heather
I was never, ever going to forget this day for as long as I lived. First, I woke up dreaming of Brian, but feeling Nick's paws all over me. Then I had received the ring from hell and lied to Nick, my family, and God above by saying that I loved it.
And where did it get me?
I'll tell you where it got me. It got me caught by Brian, my mother, and eventually my brother kneeling in the bathroom taking care of Nick. Except the kind of care I gave him wasn't the type he wanted. I had called it a scratch, but the ring had taken a pretty deep gash out of his favorite extremity.
That's how I ended up at the hospital, dressed in mismatched clothes with my hair dried in a gross snarled tangle, slumped in the hall and wishing the ground would swallow me whole.
Chris had stayed behind with Tessa. I don't think I had ever seen him happier. Mom hadn't come, more from extreme embarassment than anything else.
That had left Brian, as always, to take us to the hospital. As soon as I could, I had made the lame excuse of needing the bathroom.
Now I was hiding out to see if my fiance would ever be normal again.
Or as normal as he ever was.
The worst part was that, as guilty as I felt, I knew I wouldn't be broken hearted if the doctor gave Nick limitations in the bedroom for say, oh, the next six months. At the moment, I didn't think I could feel any more asexual if I tried.
"Kiddo, you thirsty?"
Suddenly, I had a can of Sierra Mist pressed against my flaming cheek. I reached up and took it from Brian without looking at him. "Thanks."
"So, um...that's gonna be something to tell the grandkids huh?" he said awkwardly. I popped the top of the can, wiggling the tab until it fell off in my hand. I snorted. "I think I might have just botched the whole 'kids' plan let alone grandkids."
"He'll be fine," Bri assured me. He squatted down and I couldn't help but look at him. His eyes trailed down my body and once again I remembered that he had...-gulp-...seen me naked.
"It was a sign," I said. "Between that hideous ring and Nick guilting me into--"
"He guilted you into--"
"Okay, maybe guilt's a strong word," I sighed. "I--"
"Heath, I gotta tell you something."
His words tumbled out of his mouth so fast I almost didn't understand what he said. I clutched my can so hard that it made tiny little dents in the metal.
"Yes?"
Bri's nostrils - the nostrils that had once held those giant pretzel sticks for thirty seconds before he sneezed - flared. "While Chris and I were out, we got to talking and--"
"Heather Johnson?"
My head swiveled. The doctor was looking down at me, clipboard in hand.
"How is he?" I asked.
"He had to have about five stitches. He's pretty snockered on pain meds. So give him about fifteen more minutes, okay?"
"Will he be--"
The doctor grinned. "It looked worse than it was. He'll be up and at 'em in no time."
I let out what I hoped looked like a relieved sigh. "Thank you."
The doctor nodded and headed on past me down the hall. I stretched out my legs and took a sip of soda, my heart pounding in time to a funny rhythm. Bri's hand wrapped around my shoulder. I shivered involuntarily.
"Heath..."
Brian
I wrapped my arm around Heather’s shoulder. She shivered. “Heath…” I said under my breath, but I didn’t even have time to say the er part of her name before she leaned forward and slid her tongue in my mouth. Her hands ran down my chest, undid my belt buckle, ripped off my pants and the next thing I knew I was the one standing in the Johnson’s bathroom, I was the one staring down at Heather, bobbling up and down, clutching me in her hands and mouth, barely covered in bath bubbles…
“Brian?” Heather sounded concerned. Her voice snapped me out of my reverie. I stared at her. I remembered we were in the hospital, having just found out that Nick – my best friend slash her fiancé – was A-OK after the incident with the ring that he’d given her. Now she was staring at me, eyes wide like saucers, concern all over her face because I’d fallen away in to a semi—well okay, all the damn way pornographic day dream.
“Brian?”
“Sorry,” I stammered. My face turned red. Please don’t ask what I was thinking about, I mentally begged her. I stared at her again, this time willing myself to keep my eyes on her eyes, lest they wander south and recall and fall back into the dirty daydream. “Heather, I need to go home to Atlanta.”
She stared at me, dumbfounded. “What? You’re leaving me?”
“I’m – I have some – some business that I need to take care of down there and –“
“You’re leaving me alone with my castrated fiancé?!?” she sounded panicked now.
I stared at her. “The doctor just said Nick’s fi—“
“Don’t go.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Don’t leave, please,” she said. She hesitated, “Brian I – I love you.”
My mouth went dry. I stared at her. I couldn’t breathe. My heart felt tight, my head was spinning. I’d waited for what seemed like forever for those words to come from her mouth, for the moment when –“
“Like a brother,” she added.
My heart deflated. I felt my chest shrivel up like a raisin. I felt my machismo die. The ache in my crotch caused by my dirty day dream disappeared like a balloon that got shot. I felt like I’d smashed into a concrete wall. I let my hand fall from Heather’s shoulder and I stood up, threw my half-finished can of Sierra Mist into the trash and walked away.
“Brian?” Heather scrambled to her feet behind me, I heard her shoes clicking on the floor as she tried to keep up with me, but I got out the front door before she did and I bent down to clutch my knees in the air, my stomach turning. I wanted to throw up. I felt like my esophagus was being ripped from gut with a fishing line. “Brian?” She was suddenly beside me, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m going home to –“
“There ya’ll are? Are you like getting the car or something Brian?” Nick was suddenly there, being pushed in a wheel chair by a dreamy-face LNA who looked incredulous that she was actually within a hundred yards of Nick Carter and who had probably relished the fact that she’d gotten to help treat him. “Heather,” his voice was suddenly apologetic. He grabbed at her hands, “Baby, my penis hurts. I’m sorry. I can’t give you Carter lovin’ to celebrate our…” he whispered the word, “Engagement.”
It was Heather’s turn to let her hand slide from my shoulder.
