Copyright May 19-July 23, 2000 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: NC-17 for adult themes and graphic m/m sex, not to mention a car metaphor

Pairings: Robert Romano/Dave Malucci, John Carter/Peter Benton, Mark Green/Luka Kovac

Disclaimer: "E.R.," with its related characters and themes, belongs to Michael Crichton and others, not to me.  I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Paul McCrane and Ewan McGregor.

Wherein the reader will find various ludicrous romantic notions, hideously inaccurate medical situations, and a grave disservice to Peter Benton, all at the fault of the author.

Notice: This slashfic follows the season finale "May Day," May 18, 2000, but I've skipped the part about Carter being on drugs.  I'm sorry if I spelled the nurses' names wrong.

        "Good morning, Dave."

        "Are you hurt?  I made you bleed."

        "One expects soreness the first time."

        "I know, but this is different.  Oh god."  He sucked on Dr. Romano's tongue greedily.  There was no further discussion.

        Dave put on a good suit and tried to remember his manners, then went to the hospital.  He met John at the main entrance.

        "Dr. Dave.  Hello."

        "Dr. Grantly.  Dr. Romano said that you might like to look around a little."

        "Are you my tour guide?  Good.  I was afraid that I might have some obsequious administrator."

        "No obsequious administrators here.  By the way, might I say what an honor it is to have you here, sir, and how well that tie flatters your eyes."

        John chuckled.  "Let's just take the tour."

        "How's Mrs. Grantly?"

        "Stuck at home with one of those upper-class women's charity functions.  Don't worry, I'm not meeting a Monica for dinner."

        "Well, there's a Cleo in the E.R., if you change your mind."

        "Pretty?"

        "Beautiful.  And she's working today.  I'll introduce you."

        "Is Robert around here somewhere?"

        "Dr. Romano is in surgery this morning and this afternoon.  He's a very busy man."

        "Could we stop in the O.R.?  I'd like to see him at work."

        "We can try."

        They walked through the hospital, from wing to wing, going through pediatrics, oncology, cardiology, the ICU, the CCU, etc.  They lunched in the cafeteria, then stopped by the O.R., where Dr. Romano was just finishing.  They got to observe the end of the procedure.  Then Dr. Romano went with them, still in scrubs, gown tucked behind his hips in his trademark style, and they completed the tour in the E.R.

        "Mark Green, Kerry Weaver, John Grantly.  John's from Riverdale; Dr. Dave is taking him on a tour of County General."

        "It's a pleasure to meet you," Kerry said, as everyone shook hands.  "I hope that Dr. Malucci is showing our staff to an advantage."

        "Dr. Malucci is an excellent tour guide," John said.  "Just the right amount of information and sucking up.  I haven't known many residents with his store of knowledge."

        "He's turned into quite a promising doctor," Kerry said.  "We've had some excellent staff here."

        "I've noticed.  Well, I should be going now.  I have to get back to my hotel and then to the airport.  Robert, it was a pleasure.  I commend you on your services, staff, and cafeteria food.  The chocolate pudding was delicious.  Dr. Dave, thank you for a lovely and instructive tour.  Oh, before I go, where's Cleo?"

        Dave grinned.  "Dr. Finch!  Dr. Grantly, Dr. Finch is our pediatric emergency medicine genius."

        "Dr. Grantly," Cleo said, shaking his hand.

        "Well.  That was nice.  I must talk to Cecily about moving to Chicago.  Well then.  Come along, Dr. Dave, walk me to my car.  Kerry, Cleo, Mark.  Robert."

        "John."  Robert shook his hand.  "Dave, you're dismissed for the day."

        Dave and John walked to John's car, chatting amiably.  "Dr. Dave, I have one more topic of conversation," John said as they reached the car.  "Cecily made me promise to find out.  I've been putting it off all day, but it's time to bring it up, or she'll never forgive me."

        "Yes?"

        "Are you involved with Robert's housekeeper?"

        "No.  Rebecca and I are friends."

        "Are you involved with Robert?"

        His voice stopped working.  He cleared his throat.  "Excuse me?"

        "I don't know why I let that woman talk to me.  Give me a yes or no and I'll go."

        "Yes?"

        "Good.  Good-bye, Dr. Dave.  I'm sure we'll meet again."

        When he got home, he told Dr. Romano what John had asked.  Dr. Romano didn't seem concerned.  Impressed by Cecily's observance, but not worried.  Dave relaxed.

        "I'm sure that your friends and co-workers in the E.R. will wonder why you were playing tour guide," Dr. Romano said.  "Either tell them or let them wonder."

        "Can I make up something?"

        "The less believable, the better."

        He grinned.  "Do you have to hide in your study or can we make out before dinner?"

        "Bedroom, Dave."

        "Yes!"

        He pulled away.  "What?"

        "Nice love bite."

        "I don't have a hickey."

        "Looks like one to me," Randy said.

        "Definitely," Abby agreed, nodding.

        "You're just trying to make me look," he said, "and I'm not looking.  I do not have a-"

        "Nice hickey," Cleo said, coming up to them.

        "Shit.  Do you have a mirror?" he asked Randy.  She handed him one, and he looked.  "Wow."  He grinned.

        "You are so adolescent," Abby said.

        'You're just jealous," he said.

        "The real question is, who did it?" Carter asked.

        "He probably did it to himself," Randy said.

        "Is that why you were showing around Dr. Grantly?  A few special services on the tour?" Carter asked.

        "You weren't here yesterday," Dave said.

        "Yes, but everyone's wondering why you are County General's new tour guide," Carter said.

        "It has been asked," Abby agreed.

        "It wasn't Dr. Grantly.  He's married.  To a woman.  And I'm straight."

        "Then who was it?" Randy asked.

        "Abby."

        "What?  It was not!" Abby exclaimed.  "Dave, you jerk!" she exclaimed, smacking his arm.

        "Dave, that's not very professional of you, doing it with your student," Carter said.

        "It's women like you that ruin it for the rest of us," Randy said.

        Abby couldn't decide whom to yell at first, so she hit Dave again.  "I am not sleeping with you!  I am not sleeping with him.  I did not give him that hickey.  I don't even like him!  Okay, I'm sorry, I do like you.  But I am not sleeping with you!"

        "It's okay if you want to keep our love a secret," he said.

        "Oh!"  She hit him again.

        "Dr. Dave."

        Everyone's posture improved.  "Dr. Romano," he said, clasping his hands behind his back.

        "Please keep the lovers' quarrels out of the E.R.  Can anyone tell me where Dr. Weaver is?"

        "She's in exam one," Carter said.

        Dr. Romano strode off again.

        Abby smacked Dave.  "See what you've done!"

        "Don't worry.  We won't get in trouble.  Lots of people on staff here are involved."

        "You!  Argh!"

        "Yeah?" he asked, closing his locker.

        "Your old apartment burned down, right?"

        "Yeah."

        "And your mailing address, the one where your paycheck is sent, is a post office box."

        "Yeah."

        "Where are you living?"

        "Sewer."

        "Dave-"

        "Why do you care?"

        "I was going to stop by your place to grill you about your new love interest, since I have no better way to spend my time, when I realized that I don't know where you live.  So I checked the files, and you have no address listed.  Dave.  You are living some-"

        "No, god, Carter, I'm not homeless."

        "Good.  Okay."

        "Don't worry.  I have a place.  A nice place.  I just don't want to advertise it to the world."

        "You're having a secret affair with Hillary Clinton?"

        "Nope.  Chelsea Clinton."

        "Dave, you do know that you have to have a listed address.  They were cutting you slack while you found a new place after the fire, but you're going to have to give them something."

        "I know."

        "I've moved out of my grandmother's and in with Peter.  No one here's said a thing about our addresses being the same.  So if you are living with a guy, in a gay neighborhood, something like that-"

        "It's not that simple."

        "You're living with someone on staff?"

        "Carter-"

        "Would you tell me and make me stop guessing?  You're not homeless, you're not living with a guy, what's the big deal?"

        "You're living with Benton.  Kovac is living with Green, isn't he?  And no one cares?"

        "No one cares.  I mean, there are giggles and jokes, but no one in the E.R. is hassling us about it.  The big men on the hospital board might have a few qualms, but no one's said anything."

        "So if I were living with someone on the staff here, it would be okay."

        "Dave.  It's not Dr. Romano, is it?  I thought that - - oh my god.  I need to sit down.  You're living with Dr. Romano?!"

        "Keep it down."

        "Keep it - - Dave, are you insane?"

        "Your honesty is refreshing.  Fuck off."

        "No, Dave, wait.  Dave!" Carter protested.

        He whirled around.  "What?!"

        "Is there a problem here?" Kerry asked sharply.

        "No," he said.  "No problem."

        "Glad to hear it.  Let's get to work."

        Carter cornered him later.  "I thought that you and," quick glance for eavesdroppers, "Dr. Romano were over before you started."

        "Long story.  I'm living with him, and the hickey isn't from Abby."

        "Dave, this isn't like Green and Kovac.  Dr. Romano isn't just your superior.  He runs this hospital, and you're just a grunt.  You're not just his subordinate, you're-"

        "I get it."

        "And he's not only the chief of staff.  He pours money into this place."

        "What are you saying?  It's a bad idea for me to be involved with him?  Yeah, I got that."

        "If this turns out as anything other than happily ever after, you're screwed.  And, personally, I have my doubts after this fairy tale romance."

        "Thanks a lot."

        "Be realistic.  What does he want from you?  What's he doing with you?"

        "He hasn't made me sweeping promises.  He hasn't made grand statements.  Not that he's the type to serenade and write sonnets.  I know that there are no guarantees."

        "You need guarantees.  This is your life.  This is your career."

        He knew that Carter was right.  He'd had these same questions.  But he was the first person to get to make love to Dr. Romano.  Make love, fuck, whatever, it was the same orifice.  And the night before last, that caressing touch had been loving, damn it all.  "I like you.  I like you a lot, Dr. Dave."  That meant something, it had to mean something.  It felt like it meant something.

        Dr. Romano didn't love him.  He didn't expect to be loved.  But Dr. Romano liked him, they were friends and lovers, and he was taking all that he could get.  He was in love, and he couldn't deny himself.

        Dr. Romano did that quick, brash stride into the E.R. and came to the nurses' station.  Dave was just picking up a chart; he lingered.  Carter was to his left; Dr. Romano came over and said, "Dr. Carter."

        "Yes, Dr. Romano," Carter said.

        "Without commenting on your personal life, which is none of my business - - and, frankly, I couldn't care less about it.  Without commenting on your personal life, let me suggest that you refrain from liplocks with any of the tall black men on my surgical staff.  All right?  Good.  Dr. Malucci, come with me, please."  Dr. Romano did a finger crook thing and walked away; he set down his chart and followed.  They went into the break room and closed the door.  "Dr. Dave."

        "Dr. Romano."

        "I realize that you aren't overly interested in body art."

        "Right."

        "Have you given consideration to piercing?"

        "Uh, no."

        "Think about it."  Dr. Romano moved for the door.

        "Pierce...what?"  His ears?  His navel?  His, god no, not that.  His eyebrow?  His nipple?  His nose?

        A warm quick hand slid under his shirt and brushed over his right nipple.  "Give it some thought."  Dr. Romano left.  He massaged his pec, thinking about it, hating the idea but getting turned on by Dr. Romano wanting it.

        When he left the room, Carter said, "What'd he want?"

        "He felt me up."  Dave grinned.  "You ever think about body art?"

        When he went home, Gretel jumped on him as a matter of course.  He talked to Rebecca briefly, then found Dr. Romano in the study.  "Hi."

        "Hello," Dr. Romano said, and crooked a finger.

        He went over and kissed Dr. Romano.  "About tonight..."

        "Yes," Dr. Romano said, suspicious.

        "Would it be okay if we didn't have sex?"

        "It would.  May I ask why?"

        "Uh, no."

        "Secrecy, evasions, avoidances, these are all keys to a good relationship."

        "We're supposed to be having a good relationship?"

        "That is asking a bit much, isn't it?"

        "Could I ask you something?"

        Dr. Romano gave him full attention, sitting back and looking up at him.

        "What do you want from me?"

        "Someone's overdosing on the estrogen.  What do I want from you?  Well, if it's sex, I won't be getting any.  If it's a candid sharing, I won't be getting that either.  So it's a good thing, or perhaps a bad one, that I don't demand an excess of either.  What I want, Dave, is you.  For better or, apparently, for worse."

        "Okay.  I'll let you do your work."  He left, closing the door.

        He kept thinking about it.

        "If you aren't shagging my housekeeper, you might as well shag me.  Go ahead, Dr. Dave."

        "Dave, are you insane?!"

        "If you'd like, we may continue this later.  If not, no emotional scene is necessary, a simple no thank you will suffice."

        "You're screwed."

        "We get along well.  Which is a miracle, considering you're an insensitive jerk and I'm a bastard at best.  We can live together, which most people can't manage.  We can spend time together not having sex, having long meaningful conversations, which makes me wonder if we should audition for an international coffee commercial.  And the sex, well, we haven't done everything yet, but I assume that there will be no major compatibility issues.  ...  We can be friends, we can be lovers, we can be two guys who live together and sometimes fuck.  It's up to you."

        "Be realistic.  What does he want from you?  What's he doing with you?"

        "I like you.  I like you a lot, Dr. Dave."

        "You need guarantees.  This is your life.  This is your career."

        "What I want, Dave, is you.  For better or, apparently, for worse."

        Their voices kept running through his mind, Dr. Romano and Carter, arguing back and forth, leaving him with only more questions.  Dr. Romano wasn't making him any promises.  A lot of the time, at each step, Dr. Romano tended to leave it up to him.  He was given, at every turn, plenty of opportunity to change his mind, plenty of opportunity to back off, to bolt, to say "no thank you."  Was that because Dr. Romano could take him or leave him?  Granted, he was the only person ever let near Dr. Romano's ass.  Also, Dr. Romano wasn't even the sort of person to say "I like you" often or easily.  Which meant that there was something between them, some feeling.  Dr. Romano did like him.  So he could do a little dance step and write their initials in hearts like a little girl.  On the other hand, his position wasn't a secure one.  His entire life, in one way or another, in too many ways, was wrapped up in Dr. Romano.  That wasn't a good thing; he wasn't a fifties television housewife.<

        How was he supposed to make Dr. Romano fall in love with him?  How was he supposed to ensure that if Dr. Romano left him, he'd be all right?  He was making his own money, that was good, but if something went wrong and Dr. Romano hated him, surely he could be fired, and if there was a stain on his reputation he'd be in trouble.  Dr. Romano was influential, wealthy, and in good standing with the medical community.

        Not to mention which, his nipple hurt.

        He went up to bed first.  He got under the covers in his boxers and a baggy dark T-shirt, hoping to conceal his new acquisition.  Lying there, in the beautiful bed in the beautiful room in the beautiful house, he decided that being rich must be great.  Not big news.  He decided that getting sex every night also was great.  Also not big news.  He wanted sex tonight.  He liked that thing, when they were kissing and naked and Dr. Romano was lying on top of him, when Dr. Romano slid and twisted and their cocks came in contact, and they did a sexy thrust and grind together, and-

        -and he rolled onto his side, eyes closed, trying to feign sleep and conceal his hard-on.  He was used to living with a half-hard nowadays, but he also was used to getting sex and living out his fantasies.  Tonight, he'd have to live without gratification.  Dr. Romano moved through the room, went into the bathroom, came back, sent out Gretel.  Got into bed with him, slipping beneath the covers.  Not touching him.  Was he breathing like he was asleep, or was he obviously faking it?

        "No one can sleep that tense.  Relax, Dave.  I won't ravish you in your sleep."

        "In my dreams, maybe."  He opened his eyes.

        "I'll keep my hands to myself.  Go to sleep."

        "A little kiss?"

        "How little?" Dr. Romano asked warily.  He took Dr. Romano's hands in his and scooted forward, kissing Dr. Romano, long and wet and deep, lingering, ignoring his cock and taking his leisure.  His left hand did a quick skim-and-grope, just checking that everything was as it should be.  And yes, Dr. Romano was entirely naked.

        "Good night.  Hey, could we do that spoon thing?"

        "All right."

        He rolled over, and Dr. Romano came up behind him, and they pressed together and mingled their arms and legs, and he closed his eyes and sort of melted, relaxing back against Dr. Romano.  Yeah, he could get used to this.

        "Well.  Where are the leather pants?" Rebecca asked.

        "I have to go to work today," he reminded her.

        "Come on, lift the spirits of those poor sick people."

        "Where's Dr. Romano?"

        "Do you ever call him by his first name?  Other than when you're...having your own spirits lifted?"

        "Funny."

        "He's in his study having a very important phone call.  Have some waffles."

        "Thanks.  Pecan, great.  Um, Rebecca?"

        "Yes, Dave?"

        "What do you think of body art?"

        "I've pierced my ears.  You have a tattoo.  Some people look good with more, the people with eight holes in each ear and two in each eyebrow and a pierced septum, but some people do not."

        "Do you think that I would?"

        "You're piercing your septum?"

        "God no, I don't want to look like a bull."

        "An earring?"

        "Forget it."

        "You're getting Dr. Romano's name tattooed on your butt?"

        "There's a thought."

        "You do know his first name, don't you?  I know that your subconscious does."

        "You're his housekeeper.  I'm his fuckboy.  You need to show me more respect."

        "Pulling rank, are you?  Go wash your mouth with soap and try again."

        "Good morning, Dr. Dave."  Dr. Romano strolled into the kitchen.  "Are my privileges still suspended?"

        "Just a little longer."

        "Old and bald and still living my life at the whim of the young and pretty.  Well, so be it.  I will go to the hospital and try to recover some of the lost meaning to my existence.  Rebecca, expect me by six."  Dr. Romano left.

        "You aren't...intimate anymore?" Rebecca asked.

        "It's temporary."

        "You aren't...infected?"

        "With what?  No, no way, nothing like that."

        "If`you're seeing someone else-"

        "No, never.  I just..."  He rolled his eyes and pulled up his shirt.  Rebecca stared, and he lowered his shirt again.  "He doesn't know."

        "That looks great.  I never guessed how good that would look on you.  When did you get it done, yesterday?  You're afraid that he won't like it?  Dave, it looks terrific."

        "It's just embarrasing.  You like it?  It's just so...fuckboy."

        "Is that your favorite new term?  It doesn't describe your relationship at all.  And yes, maybe, a nipple ring is sort of...like that...but it looks great.  He'll have to like it."

        "I hope so.  What does describe our...relationship?"

        "Lovers?  I'm not sure.  You seem to see your role in a very strict light.  You see yourself as having little to contribute besides your body.  You're missing a large part of what you've given him.  Dr. Romano is far less abrasive and offensive than he once was.  He's happy now, Dave.  I didn't think that I'd ever see him consistently happy.  He's cheerful!  He isn't lonely anymore.  He always seemed lonely, frustrated, and now he's not like that anymore.  It's because of you.  You've brought something to him.  I don't know how to thank you.  You've made Dr. Romano...easy-going."

        "Miracle of miracles."

        "Exactly.  I know that you've learned a lot from him.  I know that he's given you a lot, on various levels.  I know that you're in love with him.  Dave, I believe, I fully believe, that he's in love with you too.  I can tell that he hasn't said as much to you."

        "He hasn't, because he isn't.  He doesn't love me."

        "Why do you say that?"

        "He has no reason to love me.  He doesn't act like he loves me."

        "Dr. Romano rarely acts the way others do or should."

        Dave got in trouble with Kerry for the first time in a long time that day.  Worse, at the tail end of the lecture, he noticed Dr. Romano nearby.  He knew that Dr. Romano wouldn't interfere; he deserved to get his ass chewed by his superior, and Dr. Romano wouldn't protect him from it.  What hurt him the most was that Dr. Romano had to hear it, that Dr. Romano was witnessing his humiliaton.  He'd been doing well, had been getting some respect from the rest of the staff, had been acting the way that he thought a real doctor should.  But today he was distracted, and it showed, and he got in trouble, and Dr. Romano knew it.  Elizabeth knew it, too, since Dr. Romano was only in the E.R. to talk to her.

        The distraction, of course, was Dr. Romano.  He didn't know how Dr. Romano felt about him.  Dr. Romano wouldn't be more inclined to like him if he screwed up at work.  He needed Dr. Romano's respect.  If he had that respect, Elizabeth could take a flying leap.  He needed Dr. Romano to like him, to be fond of him, to be amused by him, to be interested in him, to want him, to want to be with him, to be in love with him.  He knew that he was asking too much, and he didn't know how to ask for it, anyway.  What was he supposed to do, get down on his knees and beg, "Please love me"?  While he was on his knees, he could do a little cocksucking.  He liked doing it, which he'd never guessed about himself.  It wasn't exactly the strong male stereotype.  John Wayne, hero of America, definitely wouldn't kneel down before any man, especially not to do what Dave wanted to do.  Who was the modern American movie star?  Tom Cruise?

        Now there was an image.  Dave could definitely spend more time thinking about Tom Cruise sucking him off.  There were definite upsides to being bisexual.

        But Tom had Nicole, and Dave didn't have Dr. Romano.  He wanted Dr. Romano.  He wanted to know that he could be loved.  Rebecca thought that he was loved, but he couldn't be certain of anything at this point.

        Carter and Peter were having a fight.  It was messing with their work.  Dave was waiting for someone in charge to say something to them about it.  Then Mark approached him, instead.

        "You haven't been yourself lately."

        "Thanks."

        "Anything wrong?"

        "No."

        "Trouble at home?"

        "I'm not screwing up that badly, am I?"

        "Dave..."

        He frowned.  He was sure that Mark didn't know what really was wrong, but obviously Mark suspected something or other.  "What?"

        "You won't be in trouble.  I need to know if you're the one causing Carter's problems."

        "You got the wrong guy.  Benton's the one causing Carter's problems."  He figured he could be direct about it, since everybody knew.

        "You aren't related to that?"

        "Me?"  He frowned.  Then he almost laughed in surprise.  "You think that I'm trying to break up Carter and Benton?  You think that Carter's having an affair with me?"

        "Obviously something's affecting your work."

        "It's not Carter, believe me.  I have some taste.  Look, Boss, I appreciate you trying to figure it out, but whatever's going on with them has nothing to do with me.  And what is bothering me, I don't think that you can fix."

        By the end of his double shift, he knew that wherever Mark had gotten the information was still working on the theory.  Everyone thought that he was the one breaking up Carter and Peter.  Some people were mad at him for being the other woman, so to speak, and some actually, surprising him, were rooting for him and Carter.  He hoped to god that Peter hadn't gotten wind of the rumors, because if Peter thought for a second they were true, he'd be in trouble.  He didn't want to be on that man's bad side.

        "Call security!" he heard Abby shouting.

        "Peter!" Kerry sounded furious.  "Peter!"

        Oh god his ribs were going to break.

        "Peter!"  Everything stopped.  All of the noise, all of the violence, everything.  God had arrived, and God was pissed off, and God's wrath would make itself known.  "Out.  Now!"  Oh yeah, God was pissed.  Dave wondered if he could sit up at all.  "I want John Carter in my office now, I don't care where he is or what he's doing, get him here."  God was not taking no for an answer today, not that God ever did.  One hand cradled Dave's head and the other came to his side, easing him up to a sitting position.  "Dave.  Are you all right?"  Ah, New Testament God, merciful and loving and tender and good.  "Can you stand?"  He thought that he nodded.  Dr. Romano helped him to his feet and then to an exam table.  And then the chief of staff, the surgeon, cleaned up his split lip and bloody nose.  His nose wasn't broken, miracle of miracles.  He wasn't going to have a black eye, either, but he had a nice cut along his cheekbone.  He had to take off his shirt, and Dr. Romano helped him out of it, and then Dr. Romano saw his nipple ring.

        "This is new."

        He kept quiet.

        "How long have you had it?"

        "Six days."  And since he knew that Dr. Romano had an amazingly efficient brain with great storage capacity, he knew that Dr. Romano would remember that six days ago they'd also stopped being intimate, or fucking, or whatever it was called.  But Dr. Romano just checked his bruises and felt his ribs and told him that he'd be fine.

        "You know why Peter attacked you."

        "Yeah."

        "Fucking his boyfriend was not a good idea, Dave."

        He looked up.  No laughter in those eyes.  Not a hint of a smile.  "Oh god.  No, Dr. Romano, I didn't.  I swear to god.  I swear to you.  I didn't."

        "You're not having an affair with Carter."

        "No.  How long have you thought that I was?"

        "Four days."

        "Oh my god.  Why didn't you tell me?  Dr. Romano, I would not...  We had...  I'm in love with you.  Why do you think that I've been...  If I wanted Carter, I wouldn't have spent these months, all of these months, loving you and waiting for you and - - and now that I finally have you, now that I finally got you, I'd go to Carter?  I have better taste than that!"

        Dr. Romano trailed a knuckle along the uncut, unbruised cheekbone.  "Good."  Voice a little huskier than usual, nothing brisk or abrasive in that tone.  Could it be that he'd gotten to Dr. Romano?  The hand dropped.  "Go home."

        "I have patients."

        "Go home, Dave."

        "I have patients, Dr. Romano."

        Kerry entered.  "Dave, are you all right?"

        She sounded very concerned about him.  It felt good.  Like maybe he really fit in here, for real.  "I'm good.  I need to get back to my patients," Dave said.

        "You're going home," Dr. Romano said.

        "Dave, you really should take the rest of the day off," Kerry said.

        "Hey, Chief, did we scare everybody?" Dave asked.

        "A few have expressed some concerns," she said.  "How are your ribs?"

        "They're fine."  He would have jumped up to prove it, but he knew that he'd never pull it off, especially in front of these two.

        "Come on, Dave."  Dr. Romano helped him to stand, then carefully let go of him.  "Kerry, as soon as he shows any signs of not being fit for work, send him home.  Dave, if she tells you to go, you go."  Dr. Romano stared him down pretty easily.

        "Yes, Dr. Romano," Dave said obediently, smiling.

        Dr. Romano glared at him briefly for the smile.  "Kerry.  Has anyone tracked down Carter on his day off?"

    "He's coming in now."

        Dave noticed that her eyes flickered toward him when she said it.  He wondered whether he should be flattered that everyone thought that he was involved with Carter.  Everyone loved Carter, and if everyone thought that Carter wanted him, it was flattering, probably.  But Carter didn't want him, and he didn't want Carter.  He certainly didn't want to threaten Peter, and now it was obvious why.

        The three of them left the room.  Some people were pretending to work, but everyone, patients included, got quiet and stared.  Peter was standing by the desk, obviously still upset, Mark wrapping his hand.  Oh, did the poor man hurt his hand beating up on the evil unsuspecting innocent resident?

        Peter looked up and glared at Dave.

        Dr. Romano stepped in front of Dave.  "You're a good surgeon, Peter.  You could have a long and rewarding career at this hospital.  If you touch David Malucci once more, your ass is on the street."

        So much for being thoroughly professional and leaving one's personal life at the door.  Dave wanted to smirk at Peter but resisted.

        "You're suspended until further notice.  Tomorrow morning at eight am I want you in my office.  Until then, get out of my hospital."

        Peter cast a furious, frustrated look at Dr. Romano, then at Dave, and stormed out of the building.

        Dr. Romano turned to Dave.  "Since you were involved in this incident, I'll need to see you in my office, too.  Tomorrow morning."

        "Yes, Dr. Romano."

        "Kerry, send him home at the slightest provocation."  Dr. Romano left.

        Mark came over to Dave.  "You're all right?"

        "Gotta get to work, Boss.  Can't slip up in my duties and have a reprimand on top of my beating."

        "Dave, I'm sorry.  What I said to you the other day, I had no idea that the situation would go this far out of control."

        "Not your fault.  Didn't even break my nose or my ribs, anyway.  And I won't be pressing charges or complaining to the board."

        "You don't want to go home?  Just for the rest of today?"

        "No, I'm okay.  Have to reassure the patients that not every doctor here is a raging psycho."  He flashed a grin and went to pick up a chart.

        Kerry and Mark kept trying to send him home.  Granted, he wasn't running as well as he usually did, but he felt some stubborn drive to stay and finish his shift.  An hour later, though, Elizabeth came down to the E.R. and found him.  "You're still here."

        "I'm still here.  Need something?"

        "Robert is upstairs, talking with Carter.  He asked me to come down and send you home."

        "Did he."  Why did he feel like grinning and doing a dance?

        "Dave, I'm sorry for what's happened to you.  Peter..."  Clearly she was pissed at Peter.  Cool.  "You can't be in your best condition.  Go home."

        "I only have two hours left."

        "Robert said not to take no for an answer.  Go home, Dr. Malucci."

        "If he wants me to go home, he can come and tell me himself.  Meanwhile, I have patients who need me.  And doesn't he knew that you're a surgeon, not a messenger secretary?"  He went ahead and pushed the "Dr. Romano as sexist pig" buttons.  Elizabeth gave up on him and left.  He assumed that she was going off to do some work.  Ten minutes later, though, Dr. Romano did that quick arrogant stride into the E.R.  "Dr. Dave.  Out of my E.R."

        "Oh, now I'm in trouble?"

        "Would you like to be?"

        Oh, God-wrath time.  But it was fake this time, and he was proud that he could tell.  "And if I don't leave?  If I actually stay and do my job?"

        "Mark, call security and-"

        "Okay, okay.  I'm leaving!  I can tell when I'm not wanted!"

        "Can you tell when you are?"

        In a different tone of voice, those words would have given him a happy.  But the tone of voice was wrong.  He stepped closer.  "What's going on?"

        Dr. Romano moved them to a quieter corner.  "Peter's actions, while completely unjustified, had a direct motivation."

        "I'm not having an affair with Carter."  He looked around and saw that they had an audience steadily watching but out of hearing range.

        "He knows that you're with me."

        "Yeah."  He hadn't said anything about it before, but there was no use denying it.  He didn't lie to Dr. Romano, anyway.

        "Dr. Carter's eye roamed.  Peter noticed it."

        "He doesn't...want me.  He's not interested in me."

        "They had a lovers' spat, they made accusations, Carter said some things about you that he shouldn't have said.  When gossip started here, it was too much for Peter."

        "So he beat me up, even though I had no idea that any of this was going on.  I didn't know that Carter was interested in me, and even if I had known, it wouldn't have made a difference.  And I don't care what sort of fight they're having, they're fucking up at work and fucking up my work and my life, too!  God, four days, you could have said something."

        "Go home.  We can have an international coffee moment later."

        "Okay.  Remind me to thank Carter for fucking up my life."

        Dave was mad, and he felt justified.  He'd been beaten.  Publicly.  In the E.R.  Dr. Romano had spent four days believing that he'd been unfaithful.  All right, maybe if he'd explained his feelings and motivations to Dr. Romano earlier, they could have cleared up the misunderstanding.  But it wasn't exactly easy to say, "Hey, I'm in love with you, let me just sound a little more desperate and clingy and needy and demanding than I already do, since I know that you're probably fond of me but nothing more."  He had said it, finally, now: "I'm in love with you."  Straightforward, honest, no way to misinterpret it.  He hadn't sat around agonizing about it, hadn't planned any pretty speeches, just felt that it had to be said, just thought that it was the natural and candid thing to say.  He'd wanted to say it, just to have it said.  Because it was the truth, he was in love with Dr. Romano, and there was no chance that he'd go near Carter.  Sure, Carter was a great guy, but there was no comparison.

        Although Carter the great guy pretty much had fucked up his life, at least temporarily.  He'd been beaten.  Publicly.  In the E.R.  He couldn't get over it.  He was furious at Peter.

        He knew that doctors did stupid things.  They made bad decisions, they decided that they were gods, they overrode patients' wishes, they self-medicated.  He was sure that doctors had come to fisticuffs in the past.  But he'd never expected to be a part of a public, physical altercation.  He resented Carter and Peter for bringing him into their drama.  Although it had, in its own way, brought him and Dr. Romano closer again.  The space between them, due in part to his odd hours but largely because of his reticence and avoidance, had made him realize how important his time spent with Dr. Romano had become.  He'd missed Dr. Romano.  Not just the sex, although of course he missed it like crazy, brief as their sexual relationship had been.  He'd also missed their conversations and discussions.  Now, maybe, they could get back to talking, and then, maybe, back to bed.

        He hoped that his declaration of love had made a good impact.  He didn't want it to be discounted, nor did he want it to scare off Dr. Romano.  He did want to make demands, he did want to be wanted and loved and promised, but he wasn't going to start throwing down ultimatums.  He wasn't going to make those demands.  Dr. Romano would love him, or, more likely, not, according to Dr. Romano's own emotions, not depending on whether he asked for it or not.

        But he could ask questions, couldn't he?  He could ask Dr. Romano for straight answers.

        On the way home, he stopped by the store.

        When he got home, of course, as soon as Rebecca saw the damage to his face she was worried and upset.  He told her what had happened, and she was confused and angry.  He handed her what he'd bought and explained what he wanted.  She smiled, and they started to talk about Dr. Romano.

        Dr. Romano came home, set aside Gretel, came to him in the kitchen.  He stood; Rebecca busied herself with supper and ignored them, probably afraid that they'd start having sex for the third time in her kitchen.  Dr. Romano cupped his chin, turning his face gently from side to side, examining his bruises.  Deft fingers came beneath his shirt, felt over his ribs.  "Carter's working tomorrow.  He and I had a nice, long talk."

        "And Benton?"

        "Is in trouble."

        "Are you going to make it personal?"

        "Am I going to punish him more than I would if he hadn't publicly assaulted my lover?"

        Lover.  Lover.  "Yes."

        "I expected great things from Peter.  Sometimes he delivers; sometimes he ignores me and does what he wants, sometimes for the better and sometimes not.  This time, he physically assaulted another doctor in the E.R.  No one's taking this lightly.  He will be punished for it.  It's not about you.  What I said to him earlier, yes, that was personal."

        "'If you touch David Malucci once more, your ass is on the street.'"

        "If I'd known that I'd be quoted, I would have made it more lyrical.  Yes, that was personal.  I won't let myself do it again.  Peter needs to keep his personal life at home, and so do I."

        Dave smiled.

        "I'm very pleased by your new accessory."

        Dave did not blush.  Well, he did, but he couldn't help it.  "I didn't know if you'd like it or not."

        "It was my suggestion."

        "Yeah, but it wasn't like you harassed me for months about it, you just mentioned it once.  And I'm sorry.  About the past four days.  About the past six days, but especially about the last four of them, since you spent the whole time thinking - - unless, I don't know, you didn't really care about it."

        "Didn't care that you were fucking Carter?  Didn't care that you were giving yourself to another man?  Didn't care that you were sharing with him what you no longer saw fit to share with me?"

        "I guess you did care," Dave said, swallowing.

        "Rebecca, go wash the front windows."  Rebecca left.  Dr. Romano glared up into Dave's brown eyes.  "I heard what you said to me today."

        "The being in love with you thing."

        "Yes."

        "I meant it."  He wanted to be clear on that point.

        "How many other people have you said it to?"

        "None.  Nobody.  I've told my mother that I love her, but that's not being in love with her, gross no thanks.  It's just you."

        "How long."

        "How long have I been in love with you?  I don't know.  I was awed by you first.  Then I wanted you.  All I wanted was to make you respect me.  And then, then I sort of started to get to know you, and I liked you, as a person, and the more I knew the more I liked, and I wanted you more and more.  At some point I fell in love, I don't know when.  You know she's trying to cook dinner and if she doesn't get back in here it'll be ruined."

        "I have work to do."  Knuckle over unblemished cheekbone, then Dr. Romano left for the study.  Rebecca came back in and rescued the food.  Dave sat and brooded, feeling sulky.

        There was little to no conversation over dinner.  Dave felt like he'd lost the little control he had over his life.  He knew countless ways to save a life, but not how to hold a conversation with his lover.  His lover; he had a lover.  He was Dr. Romano's lover.

        When Rebecca cleared the table, she set down mugs before them.  "What's this?" Dr. Romano asked with suspicion.

        "Cafe Vienna," Rebecca said.

        "All right, Dave, what would you like to discuss?" Dr. Romano asked.

        "I need to know how you feel about me.  I need to know why I'm here."

        "Why?"

        "Because I don't know why I'm here, and right now everything in my life has to do with you, and I have no guarantees that if you stop liking me I'll have anything left."

        "I thought that you'd left my bed for Carter's and I did nothing to affect your job.  I won't fire you if you leave me."

        "You thought that I left you for Carter and you did nothing about it."

        "I'm not going to cause a public scene."

        "You weren't going to try to get me back?  Ask me why I'd done it?  Aren't I worth fighting for at all?"

        "If you want to know what you're worth, check how far my food bill's gone up since you moved in here.  Aside from your job, which has nothing to do with our relationship, I give you money, time, attention, food, clothing, shelter, and my body.  What more do you want from me?"

        "I want to know that you care about me.  I want to know that I mean something to you."

        "You want me to say to you what you said to me."

        "Not if you don't mean it."

        "You'd rather hear an ugly truth than pretty lies."

        "Yes."

        "Rebecca-"

        "Windows," she said, leaving.

        "This is good coffee.  You know that I wouldn't let just anyone stay in my home while I was away, and I wouldn't let just anyone continue to live here once I returned.  I don't give people my time and attention, and I don't give people my money, and I don't share my home.  I don't share my body."

        "I'm special."

        "You're special.  I like you, Dave."

        "A lot."

        "A lot."

        "I like you, too, Dr. Romano."

        "Good.  Does this mean that I'll be getting laid tonight?"

        "Yes," Dave said.

        "This had better be one well-written apology," he said, busy with a chart.

        "I'm sorry.  I didn't know that he'd overreact like that."

        "You've jeopardized my own personal relationship and you've jeopardized my future in this hospital."

        "Dave, I am sorry."

        "Here's an idea: think first, act much later.  Try teaching that to your boyfriend, too."

        "Are you pressing charges?"

        "No.  I'm not formally complaining to the police, the hospital board, or your grandmother."

        "But you've talked to Dr. Romano about it."

        He looked Carter straight in the eyes.  "Don't even try to be saying what I think you're saying."

        "He's your lover, he's the chief of staff, he's on the board, he funds this hospital.  You got assaulted."

        "And you think that if I run home and complain to my sugar daddy that he's going to harass Benton in return?"

        "Whether you complain to your boss or to your boyfriend, the same person's listening."

        "Yes, I'm upset that your boyfriend decided to kick me in the face.  Yes, my lover knows all about it.  Yes, my lover happens to run this hospital.  Maybe what we talk about at home relates to what we do at work.  But I have not asked for any favors from him.  I don't get better hours than anyone else, I don't get any better pay than anyone else, I don't get any better cases than anyone else.  I still get the dregs and the shit like the rest of you, more than the rest because I'm still just a resident.  I'm not making this problem official.  Benton chose to come after me, and chose to do it in the most public and stupid way possible.  It is not my fault in any way, shape, or form that your boyfriend is in trouble.  Yes, my ribs hurt, thank you the fuck for asking."  Dave slammed down his chart and walked off, fuming.  Then he turned around and called, "Oh, Carter?"  Carter looked up; so did a dozen other people.  "I don't care how badly you want me; you can't have me.  I'm taken.  For good."

        "Dr. Malucci!"

        "Yeah, Chief?" he asked, turning slightly.

        "Happy as we all are for you, you might want to keep it down a little and get back to work."

        "Yeah, Chief.  Just wanted to clear up any misunderstandings."

        "I think that you have.  Patients, Dr. Malucci."

        A while later, Cleo said to him, "For someone who got beat up yesterday, you look pretty cheerful."

        "Yes, I am."

        "Does that have to do with this person who has you for good?"

        "Maybe.  Jealous?"

        "No."

        "So who is it?" Abby asked.  "Anyone I know?"

        "Maybe."

        "Male or female?"

        "Male," he said calmly, flipping open a chart.

        "Ten bucks," Cleo told Abby.

        "Damn it."  Abby paid Cleo.  "So who is it?" Abby pressed.

        "Who's whom?" Dave asked.

        "The guy.  The one who has you for good.  Is he cute?" Abby asked.

        "Yes, Dr. Dave, please, enlighten us," said a voice Dave would have known yards away at Times Square on New Year's Eve.

        "Dr. Romano," Abby said, swallowing.

        Dave wasn't scared at all.  He just grinned.  "He's totally cute.  You know, in his own way, he's gorgeous."

        Dr. Romano actually blushed and looked away.  Dave was floored.

        "What does he do?" Abby asked.

        "He's a doctor."

        "Does he work here?"

        "Yes."

        "You might as well tell us," Cleo said.  "We'll find out eventually."

        "Well then, I don't need to tell you.  Excuse me, some of us work around here."

        Half an hour later, Abby and Randy were poring over a list.  Apparently, they'd gotten the name of every male doctor in the hospital and were trying to figure out Dave's new boyfriend.  Since Mark and Luka were together, and it wasn't Carter, and if it was Peter Dave obviously had problems, they'd ruled out the E.R. staff.  They'd ruled out Dr. Romano too, he noticed when he glanced over their shoulders.  They were crossing out the married men and the ones above a certain age.  Abby had been working in the hospital for a while, and so knew or knew of a good number of doctors on staff.

        Abby pelted him with names.  "Forget it, you're not going to guess," he told her.

        "It's a male doctor here.  I'll figure it out," she promised.  "You might as well just tell me."

        "Why do you care?" he asked.

        "The curiosity is killing me."

        "Well, I know who it is, so I'm fine," he said.  "Give up, Abby."

        "Give me a hint.  One hint."

        "Male doctor in the hospital; that's not enough for you?"

        "What's his specialty?  What's his title?  What's his eye color?"

        "You're going to run around the hospital staring into everyone's eyes?"

        "Only the male doctors'."

        "Okay.  If you see me kissing someone, that's the guy."

        "Kissing?  You kiss him?  In the hospital?"

        "I haven't, but I might.  He kisses really well."

        When Dave was talking with Dr. Romano that night, on the living room sofa, he said, "Carter's turned into asshole of the year."

        "I worked hard to deserve that title," Dr. Romano grumbled.

        Dave smiled.  "I know."

        "Anything you can't handle?"

        "No, he's just being a complete jackass.  See, you're always like that, and I actually really like it.  Carter goes around pretending that he's a great guy."

        "Hospital consensus has it that he is a great guy."

        "A great guy who thinks that I'm going to get special treatment and that Peter's going to be sold down the river  - - wait, I really shouldn't use that metaphor.  You know what I mean."

        "That since you're my lover, I'm going to take a special interest in protecting you and taking revenge on Peter.  It's nice to know that Carter has faith in my professional abilities."

        "Especially since you were trying to help Peter for a while, and since when you heard about Peter and Carter you made it a point to say that you were actually going to be supportive.  Most people just would have kept quiet about it, at most."

        "Quiet isn't really my forte."

        "I noticed."

        "Shall we adjourn to the bedroom for sex?"

        "My ribs feel a lot better today."

        "Is that a hint?"

        "Well, you know, since yesterday you insisted on giving me the blow job of my life because my ribs hurt, I'm just saying that now my ribs are better and it's safe to fuck me."

        "You're never going to fuck me again, are you?"

        Dave looked away briefly.  It was true; since that first time, and the shock following it - - Dr. Romano, a virgin? - - he'd never penetrated Dr. Romano again.  Jerking each other off, blow jobs, thrusting against each other, and Dr. Romano fucking him, they'd done all of those things.  But he hadn't fucked Dr. Romano.  He couldn't bring himself to try.  Yes, it had been a fantastic experience.  Tight and hot and slick and tight and hot and perfect.  And knowing that he'd been inside of Dr. Romano, that he'd been allowed to breach Dr. Romano's - - god, what a rush.  And he knew fucking, he liked fucking, he was good at it.  Still, the blood, and the pain that he must have caused; he didn't dare try it again.  He was afraid that a further attempt would result in disaster.  Besides, it was a daunting prospect, and he wasn't sure that he was ready to fuck Dr. Romano.  It was a privilege that he didn't feel ready to accept.  Didn't feel worthy to receive?  Okay, he was arrogant, and he was daring, and he was horny, and he wanted Dr. Romano.  He wanted to fuck Dr. Romano.

        "Tomorrow morning," Dr. Romano said.  "Tonight, I'll fuck you."

        He was going to get fucked.  It had been a week; too long.  He liked the penetration, liked the fullness, liked the thrusting, liked being ridden.  And he was a pushy, greedy bottom.  Dr. Romano told him so with a dark glare that night.  He just grinned and licked Dr. Romano's tonsils.

        "Dr. Dave."

        "Mmm."  He settled in a cocoon of silky warmth, wrapped in silk sheets and resting against Dr. Romano's naked body.

        "Wake up and fuck me."

        His eyes shot open.  "Hell yes."

        Dr. Romano laughed.  "Good response."

        "Where's the lube?"

        "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

        "No time.  Must fuck."

        "I don't think that you understand.  You will kiss me first."

        "Who's a pushy bottom?"

        "I don't care who's fucking whom, Dave.  I'm always the one in control."

        "Says you."

        "You're going to prove me wrong?"

        "Hell yes."

        "You're welcome to try."

        "On your back."

        Dr. Romano considered, nodded, and settled back comfortably.  Dave knelt up on the mattress and found the lubricant on the bedside table.  He stroked his fingers down Dr. Romano's chest, thinking.  Letting someone else be in control was in part an exercise in trust.  This could be interesting both sexually and emotionally.  Dr. Romano was lying before him relaxed, eyes closed.  He lifted Dr. Romano's hand from its nest of silk, pulled it gently to his lips, kissed its knuckles, kissed its palm, licked its fingers, sucked a little, and drifted it over his pierced nipple.  Dr. Romano's fingers remained there of their own accord, Dr. Romano's cock twitching.  Dave moaned softly with pleasure.  Dr. Romano's hand eventually slid down over his skin, went down between his thighs, gripped the base of his cock, and pulled.  Dave fell forward, landing on his hands and knees, gasping; Dr. Romano's eyes opened.  "Kiss me."

        "No."  Well, that had surprised them both.

        "No," Dr. Romano repeated thoughtfully, stroking up his cock, toying with the head, making it impossible for him to catch his breath.  "You're one of those less foreplay is better men, the open legs insert cock type?"

        "Maybe."  Of course not.  He'd learned, eventually, that more foreplay was better.  And that went double with Dr. Romano.  The things those fingers knew...  And that mouth, good god.

        "Dave."

        "Dr. Romano."

        "Fuck me."

        "When I want to, I will.  In the meantine, you can wait.  And get your hand off of my cock."

        "My mistake."  It lingered a moment, as though saying good-bye, and then Dr. Romano's hand dropped to the bedsheets again.  Brown eyes closed.

        Dave closed his eyes for a moment, too, just breathing.  It was totally unfair to touch him like that, and Dr. Romano knew it.  He was hyped up from knowing that he was about to get to fuck Dr. Romano; on top of that, there was the whole morning erection deal.  On top of that, it was common knowledge, between the two of them at least, that Dr. Romano's hand had its own special powers over Dave's cock.  As far as Dave's cock was concerned, Dr. Romano could do no wrong, and Dave's cock was eager to prove it.  His cock was more in love even than he was, it seemed.

        He opened his eyes again, lowered his head, and breathed hot and moist over Dr. Romano's collarbone.  He pressed his lips there, opened his mouth, licked.  Did a little biting, a little sucking, some of that kiss and lick across Dr. Romano's shoulders, up Dr. Romano's neck, around Dr. Romano's ears.  Down onto the chest, outlining the pecs, special attention to the breastbone, then latching onto the nipples one after the other.  It looked like he'd started to leave a love bite earlier; he went back up there and tended to it.  Then back down to the nipples.  His hands, meanwhile, had drifted down to stroke Dr. Romano's thighs - - outer thighs.  He settled his lower body against Dr. Romano's, gently resting his cock alongside Dr. Romano's.

        No, none of that "twin towers of steel" purple prose here; they were cocks, his cock, Dr. Romano's cock.  Hard, angry, leaking cocks.

        He was thinking that he should have ducked into the bathroom to jerk off, to take the edge off before starting this procedure.  He was going to come way too soon and ruin the whole thing.

        Dave got no small satisfaction from noticing that, despite Dr. Romano's casual posture, there was no way Dr. Romano could hide his body's eagerness.  Dr. Romano's cock was more than ready to go, and Dr. Romano's carefully even breathing had fluctuated noticeably.

        Dave slid down inch by inch, kissing and licking as he went, alternately biting and sucking.  He wanted to leave his mark, and he didn't care where.  He wanted to be able to look at Dr. Romano's body and know that he'd been there, to have proof, to know that Dr. Romano would see his possessive brand.

        Was he one sick bastard, jealous and possessive, insecure and desperate, or erotic and horny?  It was hard to tell, really.

        In time, he got down to where he could lick along the crease where groin met thigh.  He rubbed his thumbs over Dr. Romano's pelvic bones, kissing down until he could mouth Dr. Romano's balls.  He trailed little kisses up Dr. Romano's thighs, spreading those thighs, raising Dr. Romano's knees.

        Was he really going to do this?

        First of all, the man expected to be fucked, so one assumed that there'd been a cleaning process going on at some point, to be vaguely delicate about it.  Second of all, he'd never know whether either of them liked it unless he tried it.  And if Dr. Romano didn't like it, well...he'd hear about it.  Besides, Dr. Romano had done it to him.

        He kept going, ducked lower, behind the balls, across the perineum, licking slow and wet, until he licked across Dr. Romano's hole.

        Dr. Romano's feet hooked under his armpits and yanked him closer.

        Okay, got that message.  He licked around a little more, then licked harder, flattened his tongue and shoved, thrust his tongue right inside Dr. Romano's body.  Oh god yes.  He liked this.  Yes, this was good.  A good thing.  Way to go Dave.

        But wait, back off, remember the purpose here.

        Fuck fuck fuck want to fuck him inside.

        No, besides that.  Before that.  Fucking would come soon-

        Not soon enough.  Want to fuck him.  Fuck him fuck him fuck him hard.

        Yeah.  His cock was one greedy bastard, but it had a good point.

        No, no, he was supposed to be proving that he could be trusted to be in charge.  He raised his head, licking back the way he'd came.  He didn't lick Dr. Romano's cock, though.  Dr. Romano's body stayed in perfect fucking position, eyes still closed.

        He sat back on his heels, waiting a little, fiddling with the tube.

        Dr. Romano's eyes opened, fastened on him.

        Mildly, unhurried, Dave uncapped the tube, greased up his fingers.  Settled himself on his butt, reached out an idle hand and brushed it across Dr. Romano's opening.

        Brown eyes closed.

        Someone, a certain insufferable bastard, had superb self-control.

        Dave pushed one finger inside, wiggled it around a little, pretended not to notice how Dr. Romano's hot tight greedy ass sucked him in hungrily, how Dr. Romano's hips shifted closer to his hand.  He took his time with the first finger, trying to stretch the muscle.  Then he eased in a second finger, and Dr. Romano's hips shoved against his hand, and he delved deep for the prostate.  One brush and Dr. Romano's hips surged in response.  So, of course, he didn't touch that spot again.  He worked in his third finger, eventually, managing not to trigger the prostate gland again.

        He carefully tugged his fingers free.  He leaned up, brushing his lips across a nipple, lapping at the new love bite on Dr. Romano's neck, kissing Dr. Romano's chin.  He kissed one corner of Dr. Romano's mouth, then the other.  He ran his forefinger along Dr. Romano's lower lip.  "Open up," he murmured.  Dr. Romano's jaw dropped.  He rose up on the bed, sliding one hand under Dr. Romano's head, taking his cock in his other hand.  He nudged Dr. Romano's parted lips with the head of his cock.

        Brown eyes opened.

        Lips shut firmly.

        "I can't fuck you dry, Dr. Romano," he explained patiently.

        Brown eyes looked up at him.

        "Give it a lick."

        No reply.

        "Please?  It'll feel so good."  He rocked his hips just a little, wetting Dr. Romano's closed lips with his pre-cum.  Behind and beneath him, he noticed Dr. Romano's thighs spreading and back arching in response.  Someone's body knew what it wanted.  "Fine.  I'll take care of it myself."  He moved away, down by Dr. Romano's feet, sitting comfortably, greasing his fingers with the lube.  He smeared it across the head of his cock and moaned in honest enjoyment.  "Feels good."  He started to stroke himself.  "Feels so good."  His head dropped back, and his eyes closed.  "So good."  He stroked himself more, lovingly, getting off on it.

        Dr. Romano kicked him.  Not hard, just a shove with one heel against his thigh.  His eyes opened.  "Oh, did you want this?  Right, right, I'm supposed to be fucking you."  He slid a finger into Dr. Romano's body.  "Are you ready?"

        "Yes."

        "Do you want it?"

        "Yes."

        "Tell me."

        "I want you to fuck me."  Slow, irritable.

        "All right."  He moved his first finger, added the second, wormed them around a bit before pulling them out and settling himself in the correct position.  Dr. Romano's leg rested over his shoulder; Dr. Romano was glaring at him.  He pressed the head of his cock to the entrance, and Dr. Romano's glare deepened when Dr. Romano's body pressed back in return.  Apparently Dr. Romano's body was acting without the doctor's permission.  Good.  Dave rocked back and thrust, shoving himself in as far as he could go before stopping to breathe.

        He eased himself onto Dr. Romano's body, resting there, face buried in Dr. Romano's neck.  Maybe he'd just stay here.  If he moved, he'd come.  Dave breathed carefully.  Dr. Romano's body, beneath him, was shuddering.  "Hold still," he panted, eyes closed.  He was planted deep inside Dr. Romano, surrounded in that constricting heat.

        "Fuck me," Dr. Romano growled in his ear.

        "I'm getting to it."  He kissed Dr. Romano's neck and raised himself again.  Dr. Romano's eyes were closed, and the good doctor looked perfectly calm and composed, except for one throbbing, leaking cock and those shallow, shaky breaths.  He smiled and rotated his hips, adjusting his stance.  Dr. Romano's hips cleared the bed.  "You're not holding still."  He pulled out slowly and pushed in even more slowly.  Slowly, gently, out, then in again, out, then in, taking his time, enjoying the ride.  "God you feel good."  He leaned in and pressed a trail of kisses across Dr. Romano's jaw from ear to ear.  "Thank you for letting me," he said softly, passing his tongue up Dr. Romano's neck.  A slow slide in, a moan of contentment at the end.  "I could fuck you for hours, days."  He pulled out slowly until just the head was inside barely propping open the way, then started a slow slide in, moaning low.  "I'm sorry, I should be more attentive."  He wrapped his hand around Dr. Romano's cock, slid down the shaft, back up, over the head.  Dr. Romano came, jism spurting over his hand and their bodies.  He gave it a little caress and let go, then pulled his own cock out and said, "How was that?"

        Brown eyes shot open, glared at him.

        "You got fucked, you came, that's it.  God it was good, too."

        "You get back in there and fuck me!"

        "I just did fuck you!"

        "Do it again, and do it harder."

        "I..."  Dave frowned.  "All right, but I don't want to hurt you."

        Dr. Romano sat up and said, "You're right, I shouldn't be greedy.  You fucked me, and it'll have to do."  Dr. Romano left the bed and went into the bathroom, turned on the shower.

        Dave stared at the bathroom.  No.  No way.  That pint-sized arrogant bastard had called his bluff!  Oh god.  He dropped onto his back, staring at the ceiling.  He was going to have to jack off, and probably five times in a row before this ache settled.  Loathsome toad.  He dropped a hand into his crotch, gave his cock a good yank, and came.  That barely dulled the edge.  He was so horny, and he'd been so close, so damned fucking close, he'd been all over Dr. Romano's body, he'd been against it and inside of it, he'd almost come uncountable times, he'd been fucking Dr. Romano, he'd teased and taunted and challenged the whole time, and he was the one left unsatisfied.

        He rubbed his ass against the sheets a little.  Yeah, he'd been fucked last night and this morning, just in a different way.

        Should've kissed Dr. Romano.  Should have kissed him, fucked him, and made them both come so hard they couldn't breathe.

        Dr. Romano left the bathroom, dressed, patted Dave's knee, and left the room calling for Gretel.  Dave groaned and jerked off again.

        At work:

        "You should have seen it."

        "I don't want to see it."

        "It's right by his collarbone, half on it, half above it.  Looks like a vampire was after him."

        "Who would do that?"

        "That blonde woman he gave money a while back?"

        "That's ancient history."

        "You think someone would get in bed with him without being paid?"

        "Hookers don't give hickeys.  Lust-drenched lovers give hickeys."

        "Lust and Dr. Romano in the same thought?"

        "There's a reason they're called love bites.  Someone's just chock full of desire for Romano."

        "Who?"

        "Check the psych ward."

        Abby burst into laughter at Cleo's joke.  Dave rested a hip against the counter and said, "What's so funny?"

        "Dr. Romano has a hickey," Abby said.

        "Is this appropriate conversation?" Kerry asked, coming out of nowhere.

        "Well, since the world's obviously ending, do we really need to fix any of these people?" Dave asked.

        "And why is the world ending?" Kerry asked.

        "Dr. Romano has a hickey," he said, repeating Abby's words.  "The apocalypse can't be far behind.  They're ice skating in hell."

        "Much as I appreciate your witticisms, and I'm sure that our chief of staff would appreciate them as well," Kerry said, "we'd appreciate it more if you would check the stomach pains in exam one."

        "No problem, Chief," Dave said.  "Come on, Abby."

        "A hickey where?" Kerry asked, pretending not to be asking, not looking at them.

        "Collarbone, right side," Abby said.

        "You've seen this?" Dave asked.

        "I heard," Abby said.  "He was doing a heart transplant this morning, and when he's in his scrubs you can see it."

        "Patients, Dr. Malucci," Kerry said.

        "Got it, Chief."

        When Dr. Romano appeared at midday to speak with Elizabeth, a few brave unseen souls catcalled and whistled.  He said, "Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Lizzie."

        "Robert."

        He was in his white lab coat, shirt collar buttoned, tie firmly knotted, no bruise visible.  As they conversed, Elizabeth's eyes kept straying to his neck.  Finally, she said, "Robert, you have a piece of lint," and she reached out and tugged at his neckline.

        "Thank you for trying to undress me in the E.R.," Dr. Romano said.  "It's actually helping my reputation.  But don't carry it too far, or people will connect you with the rumors."

        "Rumors?  What rumors?" she asked innocently.

        "Lizzie, you can't stand me.  You'd never touch me of your own volition."

        She smiled.  "That's true, Robert."

        "Besides which, I am a consummate professional who never would consider doing anything untoward in this hospital."

        "Robert."  Kerry came over.  Her eyes dropped to his neck.

        "I'm just the popular little weasel today, aren't I?" Dr. Romano asked.

        "There are inappropriate rumors stirring, and I'd like to do my best to counteract them," Kerry said.

        "Did the local gossips connect me with anyone yet?" Dr. Romano asked.  "Besides the blonde woman I paid for sex, who actually hates me more than either of you do and would shoot me as soon as touch me."

        "Since there is no proverbial mark, there is no reason for anyone to connect you with anyone," Kerry said.

        "Although if you'd like, I could make a few comments relating to Dr. Finch," Elizabeth offered.

        "Always the generous one, Lizzie," Dr. Romano said.  "As for the lack of evidence," Dr. Romano loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar, pulling aside the fabric to expose his collarbone.

        "Good god, Robert, who were you with, a vacuum cleaner or a vampire?" Kerry asked.  Elizabeth laughed at Kerry's reaction.  "Really, Robert, I haven't seen anything like that since junior high.  Don't tell me that you're dating someone below the age limit," Kerry said.  "The last thing that this hospital needs is a-"

        "Relax, my partner is a fully consenting adult.  Not a vampire, either."  He remembered Dave's teeth dragging across his skin then fastening down as Dave sucked hard, mouth clamping onto his flesh, tongue cleaning the area before another assault.

        "Please tell me that it was not a hospital employee, and that in another day no one will care that you have a sex life," Kerry said.

        "Once the shock of knowing that someone actually likes me wears off, I assume that the staff will move on to other topics," Dr. Romano said.

        "Robert," Elizabeth said.  "You're involved with someone on the staff?"

        "I know, fraternization, sexual harassment, office politics," Dr. Romano said dismissively, waving a hand.  "If you two spend another minute with me, the E.R. staff is going to start thinking that it's one of you."

        "Robert, if some cute blonde nurse thinks that by being with you she can enhance her career, you have to set her straight," Kerry said.  "You're only asking for trouble."

        "It's not a nurse," Dr. Romano said.  "I have my pride, Kerry."

        "Please tell me it's an orderly," Elizabeth said.

        "Not blonde, either," Dr. Romano said.

        "Tell me that it's not someone working for me," Kerry said.

        "Tell me it's Dr. Finch," Elizabeth said with a smile.

        "Dr. Chen?" Kerry guessed.  "No, she's too smart to - - sorry, Robert."

        "Not a she," Dr. Romano said.

        "You're having an affair with a man?" Elizabeth whispered.  "Robert, are you trying to destroy your career?"

        "Tell me it's not Carter," Kerry said.

        "I have taste, Kerry," Dr. Romano said.  "I also have patients.  Elizabeth."

        "We'll talk later," Elizabeth assured Kerry, following Dr. Romano.

        Kerry told herself to relax.  Dr. Romano had the entire hospital to choose from; it was highly unlikely that he'd have an affair with someone from the E.R.  But she knew that due to some statistical anomaly, a high percentage of her male coworkers were gay or bisexual.  Doug Ross, before; Mark, Luka, Peter, Carter.  She didn't know about Dave, although she assumed that he was straight.  She shouldn't assume.

        "Dr. Malucci."  Randy handed him a clipboard.  "Fill out these forms."

        "Why?"

        "Need your new address, post-fire."

        "Who sees these?"

        "Me, the guy who comes to pick them up, bookkeeping, accounting, I don't know."

        "What's wrong?" Abby asked.

        "Nothing."

        "You didn't get a new place yet?"

        "I'm not homeless, Abby."

        "He's living with his lover."

        "Shut up, Carter."

        "You know who Dave's seeing?" Abby asked Carter.

        "Do I know who Dave's seeing?" Carter asked with a quick, sarcastic laugh.  "Oh, I know who Dave's seeing.  I know the identity of the man he calls his sugar daddy."

        "Sugar daddy?" Abby repeated.  "How old is this guy?"

        "Older," Carter said.  "Smarter.  Smart enough to use Dave for sex."

        "I am not his gigolo," Dave said.  "I am in love with him and you're jealous."

        "You're in love with him!" Carter repeated, loud and sarcastic.

        "You're in love with him?" Abby asked, quiet and curious and awed.

        "My personal life is my personal life.  It is okay to mention it and joke about it but you do not use it against me or him," Dave told Carter.  "I love him and I will never let you-"

        "Dr. Malucci," Kerry said.  "Dr. Carter.  Is there a problem here?"

        "No, Chief," Dave said.  "No problem.  Do you have a problem, Carter?"

        "No," Carter said tensely.  "There's no problem."

        "Good," Kerry snapped.

        Dave used the phone half an hour later and called up to Dr. Romano's office.  He left a message in Spanish, knowing that others were listening around him.  He warned Dr. Romano that Carter was close to blowing what little cover remained.

        If they were going to be outed, he wanted them do to it in their own time in their own way.  He didn't want it to be part of a staged public humiliation.

        He went home with two plans for the night:

        1.) Talk about Carter and the rumors and what they could do to come out positively.

        2.) Have sex, hot sex, lots of it.

        Dr. Romano came home, hung up his coat, said, "I got your phone call, carino.  What do you suggest?"

        "I suggest that we come out fast before Carter outs us himself in his own loving way."

        "That will spoil Lizzie's plans to ruin Cleo's reputation."

        "Come again?"

        "She wants to plant rumors that Cleo is my vampire lover."

        "Hey.  Hey.  What if...  You want to be juvenile with me?"

        "How many laws will we break?"

        "None.  Besides, I like Cleo.  I'll sacrifice my own rep to save hers."

        "That's generous of you."

        Hours later, Dave moaned and pushed his head back into the pillow, body twisting slightly against the cool silk sheets.  His cock leaked against the tented silk fabric of his boxers.  Dr. Romano's teeth grazed his nipple and he hissed, body jerking away from the contact.  He and his nerve endings were quite familiar with the pleasure-pain boundary and crossed it incessantly, even eagerly.  Dr. Romano's teeth scraped upward, toward his collarbone, as Dr. Romano's palm flattened itself against his clenching abdomen and slid downward beneath the waistband of his boxers.  Kiss, kiss, lick, suck, nip.  Suck.  Bite.  Suck.  Kiss kiss nip.  Lick lick nip suck kiss.  Dr. Romano's hand, meanwhile, was easing his erection free of his boxers.  Dave moaned, hips rising, neck arched, lashes fluttering, lips parted.  "More," he breathed, greedy.  Dr. Romano bit down harder and Dave shuddered in silent pleasure.  Dr. Romano's tongue licked away the pain before one final, bruising suck of Dave's flesh.  Then Dr. Romano slid down Dave's body, pushing off Dave's boxers, mouth opening for another treat.  Dave screamed at the first hot, wet contact.  The scream turned to a steady, tortured whimpering that he'd never known that he could do.

        "Is this some sort of fetish?"

        "It's coincidence."

        "Of course it's coincidence.  He's probably jealous that he's not getting all of the attention."

        "Although his lover is male, a doctor, and older."

        "Abby, it's not what you're thinking."

        "Of course not.  That's ridiculous."

        "Has anyone seen Mrs. Paul's chart?" Dave asked.

        "How's your...boyfriend?" Abby asked.

        "Lover," Deb suggested to Abby.

        "Sugar daddy," Dave said with a grin.

        "Dave-"

        "I'm his kept boy.  I give him sex; he gives me food, clothing, shelter, money."

        "It explains why you're dressing better than you once were," Deb said, leaving them.

        "Thanks, you're a sweetheart," Dave said.

        "You aren't really...  You said that you were in love with him."

        "It's not some twisted role-playing thing, Abby.  I love him, he doesn't love me."

        "He doesn't?"  She seemed upset.  "Dave, that's not right."

        "I'm in love with him, I give him sex and companionship, I take what I can get."

        "That's not fair to you.  He doesn't love you?"

        "It's not as pathetic as it sounds."

        "I hope not.  Who is he?"

        "Why?"

        "I'm going to kick his butt for not appreciating you.  If you don't tell me, I'll just ask Dr. Carter."

        "I'm not telling."

        "Why not?"

        "Several excellent reasons, some of them political.  Besides, there's that whole thing about wanting to keep it to myself to enjoy it before everybody else hears about it and starts talking."

        "Dr. Carter knows who it is."

        "Dr. Carter and I are no longer friends.  Dr. Carter's an asshole."

        "He's arrogant," Abby said.  "So are you."

        "Yes, we're both arrogant.  But I'm misguided and ignorant.  He's self-absorbed and egocentric."

        "I see what you mean.  He's not a bad person, Dave."

        "He got me involved in his drama of the month, jeopardizing my career and my love life.  My sugar daddy walked around for four days believing that I'd left him for Carter."

        "That's awful.  You straightened it out, though?  He understands?"

        "Yeah, we're okay now.  It's going pretty well."

        "You're living with him?  You moved into his place?"

        "That I did."

        "Are you...bisexual?"

        "Yes.  Are you?"

        "Oh, no.  I'm straight."

        "Chief's coming.  Better look busy."

        Dave dodged rumors all day.  He'd asked Dr. Romano that morning to come down to the E.R., but Dr. Romano had explained that visits would be made when professionally required, not just to appease Dave's ego.  So Dave didn't see Dr. Romano until he was pulling on his gloves and saying good-bye to Abby at the front desk.

        Dr. Romano walked over to the counter, said, "Lizzie, I need you for an emergency appendectomy.  There's no glory in it, but there's no shame."

        "Right this second?" she asked.

        "Right now, no time to waste," he agreed.  "That's why it's called an emergency and not something that you can do three hours from now.  I'd be up there to help you, but I have an appointment in ten minutes."

        Elizabeth left.

        "Robert, I need you to look at this," Kerry said, handing him a chart.  "Kevin Richardson, white male age sixty-eight, showing all of the signs of impending liver failure."

        "All right, let me give Kevin a look," Dr. Romano said.  "Dr. Dave, why are you still here?"

        "I just can't tear myself away, Dr. Romano."

        "Try."

        Carter snorted.

        "Fuck you," Dave said.

        "Dr. Malucci," Dr. Romano said sharply.  "Kerry, I'll be there in a moment.  Dr. Malucci, I've heard all about your public shouting matches with Dr. Carter over the last few days.  I don't want to hear about another one."

        "Yes, Dr. Romano."

        "This is a hospital, you are a doctor, and Dr. Carter is your colleague.  Someone around here had better start acting like a professional."

        "Yes, Dr. Romano."

        "Dr. Carter, I hear that you have doubts about my ability to conduct myself as a professional.  I will give no one special treatment one way or the other without good cause.  Should my judgment falter, I trust that my colleagues on the board will correct me.  Should you take exception to my decisions or my treatment of any one of your colleagues, I expect that you will address these concerns to me directly."

        "Yes, Dr. Romano."

        "Dr. Malucci, go home.  Dr. Carter, get to work.  Kerry?"  Dr. Romano turned his back and stalked off with Kerry.  Carter stormed off.  Dave left.

        Over chicken parmesean that night, Dave said, "I want you to know that I get it.  The way it has to be at work.  The 'no special treatment one way or the other' thing.  You don't give me any leniency, but you don't push me extra hard either."

        "I'd like to push you; I expect a lot from you, because I know what you're capable of.  But I wanted that before we started to have sex."

        "Is this one of those, 'Dave, you have great potential' lectures?"

        "I'm not lecturing you."

        "Good.  And I know that saying 'fuck you' to Carter was totally wrong, one hundred percent stupid."

        "Good."

        "Impulse control.  Gotta work on that."

        "Peter's coming back to work tomorrow."

        "Shit."

        "You'll be all right."

        "Yeah.  I will be.  I'll just do my job.  Suture kits, IVs, saving lives, forget about the large man who wants to kill me."

        "He knows that you're innocent now.  He's completely mortified about what he's done, so he'll hate you for being a reminder of one of the stupidest moments of his life.  But he knows that whatever interest Carter had in you was not returned or even encouraged."

        "I had no idea that Carter wanted me."

        "Peter knows that.  Carter knows that.  What's left is for them to work out; it doesn't concern you."

        "I'll just do my job.  I don't suppose that you'll be in the E.R. at all?"

        "I will stop by.  I need to make sure that Peter's doing all right.  And with you, Peter, and Carter in the same E.R., I need to check in periodically."

        "I'll just be doing my job.  Does Peter know about us?"

        "I didn't tell him.  If Carter has recently, I don't know."

        They made love that night.  There was no other word for it.  It was a drawn out erotic experience, lingering and loving, exploring and exploiting.  Dave even caught himself whispering, "I love you, I love you, I love you," while Dr. Romano kissed his neck and stroked his inner thighs, then again while Dr. Romano eased inside his body.

        Eventually they sated themselves.  They curled up together to fall asleep.  Dave knew that with this night under his belt, he could face tomorrow clearly.

        Between one surgery and another, plus a few consults, Dr. Romano didn't get down to the E.R. as soon as he'd wanted.  When he did arrive, he was glad that it was a slow afternoon, because obviously these people were in no shape to work.  He talked with Peter briefly and privately, then checked in with Mark.  He cast a glance around and noted Dave with a patient, then left.  He was paged later, but there was nothing that he could do, and the accident victim died.  On his way out of the E.R., he saw Carter grab Peter's arm.  He stopped walking and watched.

        Peter shook off Carter and pointed an angry finger far to the left.  Carter argued.  Peter shook his head.  Carter argued some more.  Dave came from the lounge and Peter tossed a hand and a look in the unknowing Dave's direction.  A crowd was gathering.  Dr. Romano said, "Peter, is there a problem here?"

        "No problem, Dr. Romano," Peter said.

        "There's a problem," Carter said.

        Peter got a "what the fuck is wrong with you?" look on his face, frowning at Carter.

        "There's a problem when the chief of staff is fucking one of the residents," Carter said loudly enough for anyone to hear.  Everyone who hadn't been paying attention began to pay attention fast.

        "That's a serious accusation," Mark said, joining the group of four.

        Peter, who'd been out of the rumor loop recently, and who didn't listen to gossip anyway, had no idea what was happening.

        Mark didn't know who Carter had in mind but didn't want this conversation here or now, or at all.

        It was put up or shut up time.

        "Abby.  You want to know who Dave's sugar daddy is?  It's Dr. Romano.  Dave's the gigolo for the chief of staff," Carter said.  "They're living together.  They've been living together."

        "Who raised you to have these conversations in crowded public areas?" Dr. Romano asked.  "If you have comments about my personal life that have anything to do with my conduct in this hospital, address them to me privately.  I want everyone who works to keep a job here to be working within five seconds."

        "Robert," Mark began.

        "Yes, Mark," Dr. Romano said.

        "We need to talk."

        "About what?"

        "Carter's accusations."

        "Yes, Dr. Malucci is living in my home.  Yes, we are lovers."

        "He's a resident.  He works for you."

        "He's a consenting adult.  This has been going on gradually for some time.  Since the fall.  Carter's known about it for a while, he just got angry enough to mention it today."

        "This is a long-term relationship?"

        "Long-term as in months not in years, yes.  It's not a casual fling or a one-night stand.  He's been living with me since the fall.  I gave him months to decide what he really wanted.  I turned him down the first few times he wanted sex.  I'd consider that pretty restrained of me, Mark.  I'm not about to tell Dave to take a hike because Carter's feeling unloved.  Dave is staying in my hospital, in my home, and in my bed whether Carter likes it or not, and whether you like it or not."

        "I have some reservations, Robert.  I'd like to speak with Dave."

        "You're welcome to do so.  I assume that you'd like to talk with him before I talk to him, since you don't want me coaching his answers."

        "I'd appreciate that."

        "I want to see him when you've finished."

        Mark nodded and found Dave, who was hiding in the lounge.  "Dave."

        "Hey, boss.  Pretty big scene out there."

        "You heard what Carter said."

        "The whole hospital heard what Carter said."

        "Does that bother you?"

        "I don't want to be attacked by people who think that they know what's good for me.  But I haven't noticed you or Kovac getting any homophobic reactions, so I guess I'll be okay.  Dr. Romano and I were planning to come out on our own, but we knew that Carter was dying to make it public, too."

        "So it's true."

        "That Dr. Romano and I are lovers?  Yeah, it's true.  Want to congratulate me?"

        "I don't know whether that's appropriate."

        "I'm assuming that this isn't you being homophobic.  Is this about the age difference?  The job issue?  It's not a problem for us."

        "It could be a problem for other people, and that makes it a problem for you."

        "Are you telling me to leave him?"

        "I'm telling you to be careful.  I'm telling you to think about that's going to happen months from now, a year from now, five years from now."

        "I have thought about it.  I had a lot of time to think about what I wanted.  At one point Dr. Romano made it clear, really clear, so clear that I was mortified, that I had no chance with him.  So I backed off.  But I knew that even if I couldn't have him, I still wanted something, because I'm desperate and stupid, so at the first opportunity I tried to worm my way back into his life.  He said that we were friends, then, and we were friends, and then we were more.  Now we're lovers, and I'm taking everything that I can get.  Live for the moment, grab what you can while the grabbing's good.  I have no idea what this will do to my career.  I know that Dr. Romano and I both have no intentions of confounding our personal and professional relationships."

        "Does this have anything to do with how you turned from someone with potential into a very good doctor with a promising future?"

        "Yeah.  He's a bad influence on me."

        "What you do on your personal time is none of my business.  I'm living with someone who works for me, so I can't fault you for fraternization.  I haven't seen you behaving inappropriately in the hospital, so I can't cite you for a PDA.  And if I do see a public display of affection, chances are I'll ignore it.  If I see indications that you're getting preferential treatment, I will have to say something."

        "Understood, boss."

        "He's waiting to speak with you."

        "Shouldn't I be seeing patients or something?"

        "I'll let it go this time."

        "Thanks, boss."  Dave grinned and stepped into the hallway.  "Dr. Romano."

        "Dr. Malucci."

        "Dr. Green's taking it well."

        "He's never liked me.  No one does."

        "I do."

        "You're ruining your reputation."

        "By liking you?  Yeah, I know.  Now the whole hospital knows about us."

        "There's still time to back out."

        "Back out of what?  Come on, if we break up I'll never be this well-fed again.  No great bed, no hot tub, no kick-ass stereo system."

        "And here I thought you loved me for my body."

        "You're kidding, but I do."

        "Back to work, Dr. Dave."

        "No kiss good-bye?"

        "Making our relationship public does not give you license to make inappropriately sexual public displays."

        "Damn.  I'd better go see patients or something.  See you later."  He kissed Dr. Romano's cheek and hurried off with a grin.

        Except for one day, when he hauled Dr. Romano into the lounge, said, "Lick me," and proceeded to be kissed to death.

        He didn't know who witnessed the exchange or how, but by the end of the day he had every single coworker teasing him about it, including a "Lick me" sign taped between his shoulderblades.

        Dave and Peter made up rather well.  Peter admitted to acting completely out of character; they both agreed that it had been a low point that they'd like to forget; and they moved on from there.  They did have a vague, brief conversation about Carter, and two days later Cleo walked in on Peter kissing Carter in the lounge.  Kissing Carter's tears away, to be exact, and then holding him close.  It sounded a bit too much like a romance novel cliche for Dave's taste, but that just could have been because he heard about it from Abby.  So Carter and Peter ceased to be problems for Dave.

        Which left him with one more problem, one more time: the inequality and lack of guarantees in his relationship with Dr. Romano.

        Conversations and sex they shared with abandon.  They had a lot in common.  They got along extremely well, even considering what a jackass Dr. Romano could be and what a jerk Dave could be.  But Dave was in love, completely in love, so in love that it actually did hurt, which made him wonder about those romance novel cliches again.  Dr. Romano, well, Dr. Romano probably still liked him a lot, and they had a very healthy and positive relationship, and he had no complaints.  No complaints except for the overriding complaint that Dr. Romano was not in love with him.  No complaints except that he still had that feeling of dependence, despite his increasing bank account (he had practically no expenses whatsoever) and his steady job.  He had no guarantees and no security.  If Dr. Romano suddenly stopped liking him, or just liked him but not "a lot," what then?