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.

        He went to work.  Three hours into his shift, he got word of a building on fire.  When the burn victims began to arrive, he went to work.  Then he recognized one.  "Vicky!"

        "You know her?" Abby asked.

        "She's my neighbor, she lives in the apartment beside mine."

        "Where do you live?"

        "King Street."

        "197 King Street?"

        "Yeah, why?"

        "That's the building that's on fire.  That's where she came from."

        "What?"

        "197 King," Abby said.

        "That's right," Yoshi said.  "I'm sorry, Dr. Malucci.  If this woman is from the apartment beside yours, I don't think that you have an apartment anymore."

        He couldn't believe it.  As he worked on the patients, he tried not to think about it.  Then he tended to his super for smoke inhalation, and he learned that if he wanted any of his belongings, he'd get only ashes.

        "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?" Mark asked him.

        "No.  Yeah, yeah.  I'm fine.  I've got a..."

        "You need help, let me know."

        "Yeah.  Thanks."  He scratched the back of his head and went to change.  He should go to a hotel.  He should get a room for the night, then go out tomorrow morning and find a new place.  What was he supposed to do, show up on Dr. Romano's doorstep with nothing but the clothes on his back and a couple of bucks in his wallet?

        He'd lost his best jeans, his Nine Inch Nails CD, his money, his address book...

        What if he'd been at home?  What if he had been in his apartment when the fire came?  Dr. Dave as Crispy Critter.

        He boarded the L, walked a few blocks, and went to the kitchen entrance.  He knocked.

        Rebecca opened the back door.  "Dave!"

        "Hi.  I need a favor."

        "What is it?  Are you all right?"

        "Is he here?"

        "No, he's at the hospital.  Come in already."

        He entered, closing the door.  "Listen-"

        Gretel barked and ran in, jumping at him.  He managed to balance, not staggering though a week out of practice.  "Hey, girl, you miss me?  I missed you, too.  Get down a second, okay, I need to talk to Rebecca."  He tapped her side and she moved down, having tasted his face sufficiently for the moment.  He turned back to Rebecca.  "My apartment building burned down while I was at work.  All I have is what's with me right now, and as you can see it isn't much."

        "Oh...Dave...  I'm sorry, I don't know what to say."  She hugged him.  "You're all right, though?"

        "Yeah.  I mean, I lost stuff, and cash, but I'll manage."

        "You're staying here.  You'll live here, and with the money you save on rent, food, and utilities you can afford to buy back whatever you've lost."

        "Rebecca, I can't.  You know I can't."

        "I know no such thing.  Dave, I'm your friend, and I feel awful that such a thing's happened, and I want to help you, so I'm going to do everything that I can.  Dr. Romano's your friend, too, and he'll be happy to help you."

        "Happy to help, that's Dr. Romano in three words or less."

        She smiled.  "Exactly.  So, you'll stay.  You can take your old room.  I'll need to know your work schedule.  First things first, you'll need all new toiletry items - - shaving cream, razor, aftershave, toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash, comb, shampoo-"

        "Stop, stop.  I've lived with myself long enough to know what I need."

        "You'll also need clothes."

        "I wasn't really counting on paying for a whole new wardrobe with my current budget."

        "I don't suppose you'd take a loan from me."

        "I don't suppose that I would."

        "All right.  You can afford to go running to the drugstore for a razor, can't you?" she asked with hesitation.

        "Yes.  I'm poor, not penniless."

        "Good.  You go take care of that, at least.  Get out of my hair and let me think."

        "Uh-oh.  I don't want you thinking."

        "I'm going to call Dr. Romano and break the news to him.  Oh, before I forget, your house keys are in the front hall."

        He went out and bought bathroom supplies.  Then he returned to the house and found it deserted.  Well, Gretel was there, which was nice, but Rebecca had disappeared.  She'd left a note on the kitchen table:

Dave-
        Don't worry, I haven't left you for good.  I called Dr. Romano and told him your circumstances.  He assured me that you're perfectly welcome to stay.  I've gone out for a bit, but I'll be home soon enough, I hope.  There's plenty of food in the refrigerator for you; I assume that you can cook for yourself at least somewhat.  Dr. Romano will be home by eight.
                -Rebecca
        Don't eat the strawberries.  If you do, you will die by my hand.

        He fixed himself a sandwich, then another.  He settled on the sofa with one of Dr. Romano's medical journals, Gretel at his feet, some dead Russian composer on the stereo.  When Gretel perked up, he braced himself and abruptly felt sick to his stomach.  She bounded off and the front door opened behind him.

        "Hello, Gretel, how have you been?"

        Gretel was allowed to kiss Dr. Romano and he wasn't.

        "Hello," Dr. Romano said to him as Gretel got down.

        "Rebecca's not here."

        "Rebecca's always here," Dr. Romano said.  "I suppose this means that I have to fend for myself.  Gretel, come along and laugh at my attempts to cook."

        "You don't know how to cook?"

        "Dr. Dave, I may be a male upper-class WASP, but I do know how to survive on my own without servants.  I even know how to iron my own clothes."

        "I don't."

        "I'm not surprised."  Dr. Romano went to the kitchen with Gretel.  Dave sat on the sofa, wondering what he was doing in this house.  Then he heard Dr. Romano call, "Come in here and tell me what you lost in the fire."

        He stood and walked to the kitchen, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, ankles crossed.  "Clothes, some cash, my checkbook, some books, some medical textbooks, CD's and my CD player.  There was nothing of terrific personal value like a sixteenth-century vase that's been in the family for generations.  I still have my wallet and my savings account, so that's what really matters.  I wasn't expecting to have to buy all new clothes or anything, but I'll figure out something.  I should be getting some insurance money.  I'll need to go apartment shopping."

        "While you're here, you're welcome to use any of my books, as you know.  And when you go, if any of my CD's happen to go with you, I probably won't even notice."

        "You cut vegetables even better than Rebecca does," Dave noted.

        "I'm a surgeon," Dr. Romano said.  "Let's be frank.  Do you have enough money in your account for a new apartment plus expenses, and replacement belongings on top of that?"

        "No.  That's why I'm here."

        "To take advantage of my generosity while saving up for a new CD player."

        "Yeah.  Rebecca said not to touch those."

        "Rebecca isn't here."  Dr. Romano washed off a handful of strawberries and replaced the rest as they were in the refrigerator.  Dave watched the knife flash quickly and deftly through the soft red flesh.  Dr. Romano swallowed a slice, then sprinkled them with sugar.  Dave thought quickly what he'd already gone over several times: if he lived here, he saved a lot on rent and utilities and food, so he could try to save.  He could live without a CD player, and as long as he was here he could make use of Dr. Romano's belongings.  That still left him with only the clothes on his back.  He'd have to go out tomorrow and spend more money than he could afford, but what choice did he have?

        Dr. Romano handed him a bowl and sat at the table.  Sugar-dashed strawberries with a swirl of cream.  Wow.  "Thanks."  He sat at the table, too, and ate.  They started to talk, then, about work, and it was almost like old times.  As they finished cleaning the kitchen, they heard the front door open, Gretel moving to see who it was.  Dave and Dr. Romano walked to the front room to find Rebecca laden with packages.  She set down her bags and quickly fished out something, bringing it over to them.  She held it up, a dark blue silk shirt, against Dave's chest.  "I knew this would look perfect on you.  You look too good for words."

        "Rebecca, what did you do?" he asked.

        "I went shopping," she said.  "What, I can't take an evening off once every three years?  Here, take these bags up to your room, I'm tired of lugging them around with me."

        "You bought this all for me?" he asked.  "Rebecca, I can't afford all of this.  I probably can't afford just this one shirt.  I'm sorry, but you have to take it back."

        "I threw away the receipts, cut off the tags, and moved everything from bag to bag.  I don't know where I got anything, and if I did I couldn't prove it anyway.  Oh well, you'll just have to keep it all."

        "Dr. Romano," he said, "help me out here."

        "Dave ate your strawberries," Dr. Romano said.

        "Dave!" Rebecca exclaimed.

        "I can't accept any of this," Dave told her.  "I mean it."

        "You ate my strawberries?  I was going to make strawberry shortcake.  Do you know how hard it is to find good strawberries, any strawberries, at this time of year?  David Malucci, you go to your room.  Right now," Rebecca said, one hand on her hip, her other hand pointing to the stairway.  "I don't want to see you down here again tonight."

        "You're grounding me?" Dave asked.  "Rebecca-"

        "March!"

        He looked to Dr. Romano for help.

        "Shouldn't have eaten them," Dr. Romano said.  "Get these bags out of my hallway.  I don't pay either of you to clutter up my home."  Dr. Romano went to his study and closed the door.  Gretel nosed through the bags.  Rebecca stormed to the kitchen to look at the fruit damage.  Dave sighed and went upstairs.

        "I will thank you not to march around the house in your underwear," Rebecca said.

        "Where are my clothes?"

        "Not on you," she said, and turned her back, flipping a pancake.

        "What did you do with them?  And don't you dare tell me that Gretel took them."

        "I'd advise you to put something on before Dr. Romano gets down here."

        "I'd advise you to give me my fucking clothes!"

        "If I'm not interrupting anything," Dr. Romano said, walking in, "I'd like to eat in peace."  He adjusted his heavy gold and scarlet robe and sat at the table.  Rebecca served him immediately.

        Dave crossed his arms over his naked chest.  He'd never felt more vulnerable.  "Rebecca, give me my clothes."

        "There are plenty of clothes up in your room."

        "Those are your clothes.  You bought them, you chose them, you paid for them.  I want my clothes."

        "You're going to need new shoes.  You really should pick those out yourself, to get them to fit correctly," Rebecca said.  "Today, when you get off of work, we could go to get some."

        "I will buy my own fucking shoes on my own fucking time with my own fucking money!"

        She whirled around to face him.  "Dr. Dave, you can't go to work dressed in your boxers, and you can't go out shopping for clothes dressed in your boxers, so go upstairs and put on something, at least temporarily.  When you get home later today we can talk about it some more and then you can, if you like, with my help, if you like, go out to buy shoes, if you like, with your hard-earned money.  All right?"

        He turned and left the kitchen.  He went upstairs to his room and shoved open the closet doors again.  He ran his hands through the hangers, looking over the selection.  Wow, Rebecca had excellent taste.  This was all really nice stuff, beautiful cuts in lovely colors.  He never dressed this well; even the casual clothes were classy.  He didn't want to think about how much it all had cost.  More money than he had.  She'd even gotten socks and boxers for him.  She'd bought a coat, too, and gloves, and a hat.

        "I always liked shopping," she said from his bedroom door.  "I always wanted to go shopping for a man.  I liked dressing my Ken doll when I was younger."

        "Thank you," he told her.  "I mean it, thank you.  That was very thoughtful and very generous.  Too generous; I'll never be able to pay you back for it.  You have great taste, great style.  Expensive taste."

        "You're really easy to shop for," she said.

        "Sorry about my temper tantrum."

        "I understand.  I'm not letting you refuse any of it, but I know why you want to.  Your protest has been duly noted and now will be ignored.  Get dressed and come down to eat before the food gets cold."

        "I didn't mean to eat the strawberries."

        She crossed her arms over her chest.  "Really."

        "He made me."

        "Dr. Romano force-fed you?"

        "I told him that we weren't to touch them, I warned him, but he went ahead and cut them up, and then he gave them to me."

        "And you ate them."

        "Yeah, but it's not my fault."

        "Relax.  I knew that he had to be behind it.  Now stop parading around the house half-naked or I'll have to rethink this whole 'let's just be friends' deal."  She smiled and left him.  He grinned and turned to the closet.

        When he got to work, Cleo and Abby and Carter commented on how well-dressed he was.  Rebecca's new clothes were a far cry from his normal long-sleeved T-shirt.  Then he heard Randy and Yoshi talking.

        "...this blonde, I'm talking young and pretty," Randy was saying.

        "You saw her?" Yoshi asked.

        "No, but I heard," Randy said.  "She goes to his office, Dr. Romano's office, and comes out with this fistful of money.  I'm talking bills, serious cash."

        "Maybe she's his girlfriend?" Yoshi tried to suggest.

        "Yeah, well, no woman would be with Dr. Romano unless he paid her, and now it's proven," Randy said.  "It was just last night.  Now, why would he be giving some chick cash unless it were for a little personal service?"

        Dave went to the on-call room fast.  First of all, the very idea that Rebecca was a prostitute, and that she'd "service" Dr. Romano, and that Dr. Romano would need or want that, was entirely offensive.  He wanted to protest; how little Randy knew them!  And Rebecca had been here, in the hospital, last night, to get money.  Then she'd come home with clothes.  His clothes.  Dr. Romano had paid for his clothes.  She'd bought the clothes with Dr. Romano's money.

        He knew that Rebecca had few expenses and a high salary; he'd assumed that she'd done it herself, paid herself.  But if she hadn't, if Dr. Romano had...

        The rumor continued to float.  By the end of his shift, he'd heard all about the blonde stripper who'd paid a visit to Dr. Romano's office and walked out with two million dollars.  He found it hideously offensive, and he objected greatly to the crude and speculative remarks he heard about Dr. Romano and about Rebecca.  He went home pissed.

        He patted Gretel and went to find Rebecca, who was folding laundry.  "Hi."

        "Hi," she said.  "How was work?"  With him, she talked as an equal.  With Dr. Romano, she was either quietly deferential, exceedingly polite, muttering under her breath, or smugly antagonistic.  Dr. Romano and Rebecca battled over who really ran the house, and that left Dave as low man on the totem pole.

        "When I left to buy toothpaste yesterday, you called Dr. Romano?"

        "Yes."

        "Are you going to tell me how that conversation went, or do I have to guess?"

        "All right.  If you're going to be irritating about it, I might as well tell you and save myself grief.  I called Dr. Romano and told him that you were homeless due to a fire.  I told him that you needed clothing if not music and books.  I wanted to give you money, but I knew that you wouldn't accept it, and I thought that he could think of a way to convince you.  He told me to come to the hospital.  I went, and I found his office, and he gave me money and told me to go shopping.  I know your sizes because I do your laundry and I pay attention.  Okay, I'm nosy.  Anyway, he just gave me money and told me to buy you clothes until the money was gone."

        "How much money?"

        "That's between myself and Dr. Romano."

        "So it was his idea."

        "Yes.  See, blame him, don't be mad at me.  I'm an innocent pawn."

        "I work for him, live in his house, eat his food, now I'm wearing clothes he paid for-"

        "And you harass his housekeeper to no end.  Let's go buy you some shoes."

        "You want to pay for those, too?"

        "Actually, yes.  He gave me more money this morning.  I'm supposed to buy you several pairs of shoes and try to coax you into buying anything else you need - - books, CDs, a new watch?"

        "I am his kept boy, aren't I?  There's everything except the sex."

        "I'm not the only one who enjoyed that eyeful of naked Dr. Dave this morning."

        "Don't start with me.  Your encouragement almost ruined my life."

        "But now you're staring over.  New clothes, new home, new outlook on life."

        "Let's just go buy a pair of sneakers, okay?"

        They did go shopping.  Rebecca went to great lengths to keep him from seeing price tags.  When he'd picked out two pairs of shoes, she made him try on other kinds, and then when they'd found a few more pairs that looked great and fit well, she caused a scene at the cash register and ended up paying.  Then she dragged him all around the mall until they had bags of more CD's than he'd had before, as well as new medical textbooks.  He didn't pay for any of it.

        "Does Dr. Romano always have this much cash?" he asked her.

        "He has some on him, some in his office, some at the house.  I'm guessing that a ton of his money is tied up in investments, stock market and property and whatever, but he does like to have cash around in case of an emergency, like when his gigolo needs new clothes," she teased.

        "You're not funny at all."

        "Now we just need a watch."

        "No.  I'm putting my foot down. I don't care what you do or what you say, it ends here.  We're going back home and if the car needs gas, I'm paying for it."

        "Dave, you do need a new watch."

        "I don't care."

        "You're terribly immature."

        "You're terribly impossible.  You and Dr. Romano were made for each other.  You're ridiculous and he's..."

        "Go ahead, swear with impunity."

        "And you're both stubborn."

        "And smart."

        "The math he does in his head I couldn't do on paper."

        "Of course you could."

        "Well, I could, but not as fast as he does it.  And you're smart."

        "Which means that you're wondering why I live my life scrubbing Dr. Romano's hot tub and washing his dirty dishes."

        "That's not my business.  It's your choice."

        "Since when are you into a woman's choice?  You're a closet feminist."

        "Let's not talk about closets.  I'm still working on the one I'm in already."

        "How's that going?"

        "What, being bisexual?"

        "Ha!  You said it!"  Rebecca did a little dance in the parking lot.  "I'm proud of you."

        "Yeah, let's call my mother and tell her."

        "Did you ever say it before?  That you're bi?"

        "Nope.  Lightning hasn't struck or anything.  God isn't pelting me with punishment hail."

        "If God didn't want you to say you were bi, he wouldn't have made you that way in the first place.  Let's go home.  I want you to do something for me."

        "On second thought, I'll just stay here."

        "It won't be anything bad," she said.  "And if you don't like it, you don't have to do it."

        "Can I get that sentence written, signed, and notarized?"

        They went home and up to his room, where they set out his packages.  Then Rebecca said, "I have to start supper.  You change clothes."

        "That's what I'm supposed to do for you?"

        "Yes."

        "What am I supposed to wear?  Are we dressing in black tie or white for dinner this evening?"

        "Go hide in the bathroom.  I'll set it out and run downstairs.  You can stand up here, swear at me, and put it on - - no more or less than I give you."  She pushed him into his private bathroom and closed the door.  He waited, knowing that he was in trouble.  She had to be picking out something hideously embarrassing.  He waited until she said, "Okay!"  As he opened the bathroom door, he heard her running away quickly.  He saw clothes spread across the bed.  "Rebecca!" he shouted.  "Rebecca!"

        Eventually, with cursing and embarrassment, he put on the clothes.  Clingy black silk boxers, the deep blue silk shirt, and black leather pants.  Black leather pants.  Leather and silk.  Insanity.  He felt like he should be in a music video.  She hadn't given him socks or shoes, so he went barefoot.  Dr. Romano's carpets were good for that anyway.

        He was supposed to show up downstairs looking like this?

        He went downstairs, to the kitchen.  "Are you casting for the latest sitcom about hip singles who dress well and live in expensive city apartments despite doing no work whatsoever?"

        "Tuck in your shirt."

        "No.  What are we eating?"

        "Spaghetti - - and don't you dare spill it on that outfit.  Tuck in your shirt."

        "There's no room for me in these pants, much less this shirt.  Silk - - I've never worn silk in my life!"

        "But you've worn acres of leather?"

        "Well, I wanted a leather jacket, but I never actually got one."

        She moved around him, setting the table.  "You look better than I've ever seen.  I'd still like to see you in your scrubs."

        "They're stunning," he assured her.

        "If you tuck in your shirt we can all enjoy the rear view."

        "No way.  Do people actually dress like this just to sit around the house?"

        "Of course not.  Well, on TV they do.  Pretend you're on TV."

        "Maybe I am.  That would explain how bizarre my life has become."  He heard Gretel barking.  "Dr. Romano's home?"

        "Dr. Romano's home," Rebecca confirmed, setting the spaghetti sauce with meatballs on the table.

        A minute or so later, Dr. Romano walked into the kitchen, Gretel following.  Brown eyes flickered over Dave, who blushed and crossed his arms.  Dr. Romano sat at the table and said, "Rebecca, how you spend your money is up to you.  If you'd like to dress my houseguest as some-"

        "My money?" Rebecca asked.  "If I were spending my money, I'd give it to a worthy cause to fight disease or hunger or poverty or human rights.  I wouldn't spend it to buy clothes for a doctor; I'd try to clothe the-"

        "You're allowed to interrupt Dr. Romano when he's speak-" Dave asked.

        "Of course not, I'd never interrupt Dr.-"

        "And you are the one who bought this-"

        "I chose it.  Dr. Romano paid for-"

        "You could have taken the money and used it to-"

        "It's his money, he chooses what happens to it.  I was following orders from my-"

        "Since when do you follow or-"

        "You're the one wearing it any-"

        "You made me!  I never-"

        "I made you?  As if I-"

        "Don't play innocent, Miss Rebecca, no-"

        "Well excuse me, Dr. Dave, for trying to help you with your drastically undergrown fashion sense-"

        "Drastically undergrown - - at least I don't buy silk boxers!"

        "What you wear under your clothes is none of my business!"

        "You picked them out!  You bought them!"

        "He paid for them!"

        "It's impossible to talk to you!"

        "Then why do you keep trying?  Sit down and eat."

        "You're wearing silk boxers?" Dr. Romano asked.

        Dave turned red.

        "Black," Rebecca said.

        "Just friends," Dr. Romano said.  "I don't know the color of the undergarments of my friends."

        "You need new friends," Rebecca advised.  "Dave, please eat before the food is cold."

        "Assuming that you can sit in those pants," Dr. Romano added.

        Dave sat, and he ate.  He and Dr. Romano started to talk shop.  They slipped right into their regular routine, their old rhythm.  Eventually they got into non-hospital-centered conversation, and he said, "What's Rebecca's job description?"

        "According to me or according to her?" Dr. Romano asked.

        "Either."

        "According to me, Rebecca is my housekeeper.  She will cook and clean as needed, she will run errands, and she will tend to Gretel's needs.  If the house needs maintenance or the appliances break down, it's up to her to get them fixed.  According to Rebecca, she lives at the beck and call of a demanding, insane little dick bastard.  It's a semantic issue.  I notice that you've heard that I financed her recent shopping expedition."

        "Yes.  Thank you."

        "I can't have you showing up in the E.R. underdressed.  You went shopping again today?"

        "She made me."

        "I don't doubt that she did.  What did you buy?"

        "Too many pairs of shoes, way too many CD's, some books."

        "Watch?"

        "No."

        "Which CD's?"

        "A replacement copy of 'The Downward Spiral.'"

        "Good for you."

        "Dr. Romano..."  He leaned closer, one foot on the chair seat with him.  "Am I your protégé?  Your charity case?  Just the guy living in your house?"

        "I'm tired of proteges.  They always disappoint me.  If I wanted a charity case I'd toss a nickel at one of the bums who wanders into the E.R.  Rebecca could use something more in her life, and I thought that you might supply it, but you chose to be her friend instead, which works out just as well.  Gretel could always use another friend.  And this way I get someone to talk to when I feel like it but who leaves me alone when I need it."

        "Are we friends?"

        "It would seem so.  Don't tell anyone; it would ruin my reputation.  If anyone ever heard that I had a friend, I hate to think what would happen."

        Dave smiled.

        "If word does get out that you're living with me and that we're friends, people will think less of you, but nothing drastic will happen.  And if word gets out that I'm also buying you silk boxers, there may be questions and concerns, but your career shouldn't suffer."

        "You mean if people think that we're...  That I'm..."

        "That I'm your sugar daddy."

        "Right."

        Dr. Romano shrugged.  "I wouldn't worry."

        "You're not the one who's trying to start his career in a demanding, competitive field.  You have a well-established career and money to fall back on if you need it."  He was talking back to Dr. Romano again.  Was this a habit now?

        "Upper-class professional male WASPs get no sympathy."

        "Can I ask you something?  As a friend?"

        "Don't start abusing the relationship."

        "Do I look like a complete idiot dressed like this?"

        "You look like someone who gets sex any time he wants it."

        "That's a good thing, though, right?"

        "Yes, Dr. Dave, that's a very good thing."

        "You hired me hoping that I'd fall in love with Rebecca?"

        "Apparently it almost worked, too."

        "Yeah.  She's terrific."

        "Planning to try again?"

        "No.  She and I make great friends, but we both know it's not going anywhere else."

        "Your loss."

        "Not hers?"

        "Don't flatter yourself."

        "Can I ask you something?"

        Dr. Romano looked at him with a perfect blend of suspicious arrogance.

        "You know about Benton and Carter, and Green and Kovac, right?"

        "That they're together?  Yes."

        "That's okay?"

        "With me, yes.  With the American public, no.  With the medical community, no."

        "But they can't be fired for it."

        "No.  And if you've noticed, when those doctors work with their significant others, the patient gets better care.  They work well together.  They communicate well, and that's crucial to the E.R."

        "So I should start dating Abby."

        "If you want beauty, Cleo.  If you want brains, Kerry."

        "I want both."

        "Should have stuck with Rebecca."

        When Dave came down to breakfast on the morning of Dr. Romano's departure, Rebecca handed him a glass of milk.  "Good morning."

        "You're gonna miss him, aren't you?" he asked.

        "Miss whom?" she asked, smiling beatifically.

        "I still don't get why you two aren't, you know, together."

        "Because one of us is intelligent and attractive and sane, and the other is...well, it's the holiday season, so I'll be charitable and not finish that sentence.  Waffle?"

        Dr. Romano strode in briskly.  Dave stood leaning against the table, watching as Dr. Romano set a bottle of wine on the table.  "Don't drink it all in five minutes," Dr. Romano told Rebecca.  "Did you call the taxi?"

        "It will be here momentarily," she said.  "Thank you, Dr. Romano."

        "If you insist on decorating this place, and I'm sure that you will, please exercise some good judgment.  I don't wish to return to an eyesore."

        "Of course, Dr. Romano."

        "Dr. Dave."

        "Dr. Romano," Dr. Dave said, straightening.

        "Right arm, please."

        Dr. Dave frowned and held out his right arm.  Dr. Romano pulled off his watch with a quick flick and tossed it to Rebecca, who tossed it into the trash can without missing a beat.  Dr. Romano handed him two boxes.  "Rebecca, I'd appreciate it if I come home to find Gretel healthy and happy."

        "Of course, Dr. Romano."

        Dr. Romano left the kitchen, left the house.

        Dave clutched the boxes.  "Rebecca?"

        "Yes?" she asked, smiling.

        "What's this?"

        "Christmas presents.  Open them.  He always gives me a bottle of wine.  I don't drink, ever, but this stuff is divine.  I may even give you a thimbleful if you're good."

        Dave sat numbly and opened the boxes before he lost his nerve.  Two wristwatches, clearly expensive, one tastefully understated for everyday, the other for formal occasions.  Neither was gaudy or obvious, but they were too stylish to go unnoticed.  "Damn."

        "Dr. Romano has excellent taste," Rebecca said.  "Expensive taste, but excellent."

        They struck him, suddenly, as handcuffs.  If he accepted these, if he wore these, he would be letting Dr. Romano buy him, own him, claim him.  He lived in Dr. Romano's house, worked in Dr. Romano's hospital, ate Dr. Romano's food, pet Dr. Romano's dog, read Dr. Romano's books, wore clothes paid for by Dr. Romano - - in short, Dr. Romano had taken over his entire life.  Putting on one of these watches would be one final step.  The only thing that Dr. Romano hadn't claimed was his body, but lord knew that when he shuddered into his hands each night and each morning, he wasn't thinking about Abby.

        He wrapped the everyday watch around his wrist.  "How does it look?"

        "Like a million bucks, Dave.  Merry Christmas, a few days early."

        "Early Christmas present," Dave said.  "Nice, hunh?"

        "Who cares about you enough to give you that?"

        "My new girlfriend."

        "You have a girlfriend?"

        "Black, about 6'3", broad shoulders, facial hair-"

        "Get out of here," Carter said.

        "This is good stuff," Dave said.  "I'm so glad I'm not working tomorrow."

        "You're working tomorrow."

        "I know, but I'm pretending that I'm not so I'll feel more festive.  I'm starting late anyway."

        "Don't drink too much."

        "I won't.  I won't, I promise!  It's yours, anyway.  How much does this stuff cost?"

        "If you have to ask, you can't afford it."

        "I can't afford the underwear I'm wearing right now, much less this bottle of wine."

        "You're a silk slut."

        "Listen to Miss Rebecca and her potty mouth!"

        "See why I don't drink?  Not because it makes me act stupid, but because it gives me an excuse to act stupid."

        "Want to act stupid with me?"

        "No thanks.  You're taken.  I don't like to play with other people's toys."

        "Don't I wish.  Hell, I have no morals, I'd be happy to play boytoy.  He just won't let me."

        "Dave, I know that he wants you."

        "What makes you say that?  Seriously, Rebecca, has he suddenly begun to confide in you?  Has he started to draw little hearts with our initials?"

        "I know Dr. Romano.  When I briefly heard passing comments of vague interest, they were sexual and rather crude.  When he treats someone with respect, it's always been politically motivated.  He's with you just for the sake of being with you.  He treats you like a human being.  It's a refreshing change."

        "I know that I'm a guy, and guys are supposed to be out for sex and nothing else, but I've been here for a while now with no sex at all.  Does that mean that he's never going to want me?  Or that if he does want me, as you seem to think, that he's just never going to do anything about it?  And if he does want me and does act on it, then what?  I mean, are we supposed to fall in love and live happily ever after?"

        "That would be nice," Rebecca said softly.  "You should do that."

        "No one does that."

        "You could.  If you wanted.  Are you in love with Dr. Romano?"

        "I think that I'm obsessed.  Infatuated.  Fascinated.  And I'm in awe of him, I admire him above all other human beings, even above you.  Which is crazy, because no one else in the world so much as likes him.  If I'm capable of love, then I'm in love with him.  It's insane, I've lost my mind, I'm supposed to be an arrogant bastard without higher feelings.  What am I doing talking about love?"

        "You've met the king of your kind and recognized him as your leader."

        "Yeah, he and I were kind of made for each other.  I'm the low-class slut version of Dr. Romano."

        "Except taller, with hair."

        "You know that bald men are more virile.  Excess of testosterone."

        "Does that mean that you lack testosterone?"

        "Oh, that was cruel."

        "Sorry.  Couldn't resist.  Listen, I'm going to bed.  Have more wine - - but don't finish it.  Leave me two drops.  You'll take care of the fire?"

        "You're going to bed without finishing your duties?  You'd leave me with the fire and my dirty glass?"

        "Hey, it's New Year's Eve.  I'm taking the night off."

        "Happy New Year."

        "You too, Dave."  She kissed his cheek and went downstairs.

        Dave moved to the sofa.  Gretel left him for her own bed.  He sipped at his glass of wine, watching the flames, feeling lazy and debauched.  He considered jerking off, but decided to have some respect for Dr. Romano's sofa.  He cupped his hand over his crotch between his splayed legs and closed his eyes, relaxing on the sofa, glass held loosely in his other hand.

        Dr. Romano came through the front door, setting down his suitcase, hanging up his coat and hat.  He saw the lamp and firelight and to stand before the sofa, brown eyes roaming over the sight before him.  Dave, in tight leather and clinging silk, warmed by wine and the fire, drowsing, one hand clasped loosely and protectively over a groin bulge hugged by leather.  Around one wrist he saw one of his Christmas gifts.

        "Dr. Dave.  You make an interesting sight."

        Dave sat bolt upright, hand jerking away, almost spilling wine with the other hand, finally standing.  "Dr. Romano!"

        "Happy New Year.  I see you're enjoying Rebecca's wine."

        "She let me have some.  She told me not to finish it - - she's just gone down to bed.  I didn't know you were coming back today."

        "I wasn't."

        "How was your conference?"

        "I got so bored that I considered pulling out the few hairs I have left."  Dr. Romano took the glass from his hand, sipped, and handed it back to him.  Dr. Romano did one of those subtle wine-tasting things that Dave never got and seemed satisfied.  "I trust that nothing of grave importance happened in the E.R.?"

        "Someone got a new gun for Christmas and shot his girlfriend with it."

        "Wonderful."  Dr. Romano glanced around the room house.  "Nice tree."

        "Rebecca and I decorated it."

        "Tree, wreaths, garlands, I'm surprised that she didn't hang stockings by the chimney with care.  Mistletoe.  Just friends."

        "So far only Gretel and I have kissed under it."

        "You're dressed like that, drinking wine, with festivity in the air and mistletoe conveniently placed, and you're kissing Gretel?"

        "Who should I be kissing?"

        "Whom."

        "Who should be kissing me?"

        "Surely you can find someone."

        "The only one here right now is you."

        "How much have you had to drink?"

        "Obviously not enough, since I'm feeling mortified."

        Dr. Romano took the glass from him and had another sip.  "Damned good stuff."  Dr. Romano handed the glass back to him and went to get another glass.

        "Rebecca said to leave her some."

        "I gave it to her, I can take it back."  Dr. Romano poured himself a glass, then poured the last bit in to refill Dave's glass, setting down the empty bottle.  "I do not make it a habit to accept sexual advances from inebriated employees.  I've had enough sexual harassment accusations as it is."

        "I wouldn't complain."

        "It's not a good idea in general to mix drinking and initial sexual encounters."

        "What if I weren't drinking?"

        "Then you'd be sober and we wouldn't be having this conversation at all because you wouldn't have said what you said."

        "What did I say?"

        "Why don't you just have a seat and enjoy the wine?"

        He sat.  "You just left the conference?"

        Dr. Romano sat, too.  "I heard a more interesting lecture from the airline stewardess on proper emergency gear usage.  Are you working tomorrow?"

        "I start late."

        "Good."

        "This is very good wine.  Where'd you get it?"

        "Wine vault."

        "How rich are you?"

    "Richer than you."

        "Richer.  Older.  Smarter."

        "We both know who wins in the appearance category."

        "Which of us wins Miss Congeniality?"

        "You win by default.  There's still hope for you.  I'm stuck with this asinine personality."

        "Wait.  You think I'm good-looking?"

        "Can you handle your liquor at all, Dr. Dave?"  Dr. Romano took his glass from him and finished it.  "Go up to bed."

        "You drank my wine."

        "It's not yours, it's Rebecca's."

        "If she hates me in the morning, I'm blaming you."

        "I'll get her another bottle."

        "I should go to bed.  Another wild and crazy New Year's Eve in the life of Dave Malucci.  See you tomorrow.  Welcome home."

        "Hi," Rebecca said.  "You look hung over."

        "I'm not sure."

        "Thanks for leaving me no wine whatsoever."

        "Not my fault."

        "Did Dr. Romano come home last night?"

        "Yes."

        She started to smile.  "And?"

        "And I said something about the mistletoe, and he didn't take me up on it."

        "Typical.  Frustrating, stubborn, narrow-minded...  No, I must think charitable thoughts about the toad."

        "He pays your salary," Dave said.  "Be nice."

        "Let me guess," Dr. Romano said dryly, coming up behind him.  "Those pants are so tight you can't get out of them."

        "Good morning, Dr. Romano," Rebecca said.  "How was your conference?  Would you like pancakes?  Did you notice the mistletoe right above your head?"

        Dr. Romano glanced overhead.  "Ah, yes."  He looked at Dave, who was in the wide doorway with him.  "Maybe once I've eaten.  Wouldn't want the food going cold after Rebecca's gone to all of this hard work."

        "How long does it take to kiss somebody?" Rebecca asked as Dr. Romano sat at the table.  "Come have a seat, Dave.  Dr. Romano, please don't feed Gretel from the table.  It's not good for her."

        "She likes it."

        "I know how committed you are to pleasing the every whim of everyone you know," Rebecca said, "but you'll have to resign yourself to knowing that sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good."

        Dave sat.  If only Dr. Romano did things because people liked it.  Then he'd have a mouthful of Dr. Romano's tongue instead of pancakes.  They ate breakfast; he took his time and brooded since he had the morning free.  He wasn't hung over, just morose.  When he finished, Rebecca cleared the table and began to clean the dishes.  He began to leave, then paused in the doorway, wanting to say something, to apologize to someone, to yell at someone, to clear up the confusion and aching in his brain.  Dr. Romano sent Gretel to her food dish and started to leave the kitchen, too.  Dr. Romano paused at his side, in the doorway; Dave realized where they were standing again, and faced Dr. Romano.

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

        Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rebecca turn around fast to watch.  He didn't know how she was feeling, but he was feeling as though this doorway were a new portal to an alternate universe.  And in this alternate universe, he was going to kiss Dr. Romano.  He moved one hand to Dr. Romano's neck, sliding around to the nape.  He leaned down, hoping that he looked at least halfway seductive, and brushed his lips over Dr. Romano's.  Oh god, it slammed right through his heartbeat, he was kissing Dr. Romano.  Actually kissing another man, kissing Dr. Romano.  He made the kiss less tentative as he settled into it; if this was his one and only chance ever to kiss this man, he wasn't going to leave the job half-done.

        He felt Dr. Romano's hands find his hips and slide up his chest.  Wow, he was being touched.  Dr. Romano's mouth opened under his, and he took advantage of the opportunity to slide his sleek tongue in, seeking heat, wetness, and a lingering sweetness either native to Dr. Romano or from pancake syrup, he wasn't sure.  Dr. Romano's hands were tugging at him, pulling him, and he moved forward; Dr. Romano led him, still kissing, over toward the table.  Suddenly Dr. Romano was on the table, sitting on it, legs parted for him to step closer.  Dr. Romano's tongue licked away the remnant of sticky syrup at the corner of his mouth and Dr. Romano's hands started to unbutton his shirt.  Oh god, this was more than a mistletoe kiss, this was let's tongue-fuck and get half-naked on the kitchen table.  He wasn't nearly finished kissing, yet, himself; he'd barely begun.  He wanted to taste and learn and lick every inch of this man's mouth; he wanted to kiss and nibble and suck those mobile lips.  His shirt was unbuttoned and Dr. Romano was pushing it back off his shoulders, exposing his chest.  Skillful surgeon's hands with talented fingers ran over him, traced his ribs, rubbed over his muscles, plucked at his nipples.  He cupped Dr. Romano's face in his hands, kissing deeper and deeper, and then Dr. Romano was running a finger around his navel, and then beneath his navel, and then there were hands opening his pants.  He was not going to be embarrassed; he was not going to jerk away in surprise; he was going to play it cool and suck Dr. Romano's tongue and let Dr. Romano do whatever the fuck Dr. Romano wanted as long as he got to pretend that this wasn't a fantasy.

        His cock was hard, and leaking.  That's what he got for not jerking off last night or this morning, and for kissing the star of his masturbation fantasies.  Dr. Romano's hand seemed to know exactly what he wanted, exactly what he needed; he was stroked and fondled and rubbed and tugged better than he even did it himself.  Finally, while he was trying to breathe and trying not to come and trying not to remember that it couldn't be real, that none of it was real, he slid his hands across Dr. Romano's shoulders and over the front of Dr. Romano's robe until he reached the sash that kept this damnable robe shut and kept his prying eyes thwarted every morning.  Still kissing, he yanked blindly, then twice more and he felt the tie give.  He pulled some more and the robe slid open; he reached one hand inside, fingers burrowing into the robe and finding silky heated skin, both hands greedily running up and down Dr. Romano's sides, stroking over Dr. Romano's chest, finding a body tighter and harder than he'd expected.  He fingered Dr. Romano's nipples, eager, sucking on Dr. Romano's tongue, trying to hold back on the orgasm he felt arriving.  Then Dr. Romano's tongue flicked across his mouth and Dr. Romano's thumb rubbed across the head of his cock and he came, spurting his semen over them both.

        Dr. Romano stopped kissing him.  He knew that he should open his eyes but he couldn't.  His clothes were tugged back in order; his hands were moved gently from Dr. Romano's ribcage.  Dr. Romano slid down to stand between him and the table.  "I do need to go to work this morning," Dr. Romano said.  "Dr. Dave.  If you'd like, we may continue this later.  If not, no emotional scene is necessary, a simple no thank you will suffice."  Dr. Romano left the kitchen.  Dave opened his eyes.

        The first thing he did was look for Rebecca.  She wasn't there.  Thank god; what had they been thinking?  Hell, what had Dr. Romano been thinking, undressing him and jerking him off in the kitchen?  And he'd pawed at Dr. Romano like, like, some animal simile would work here.  Now he had jism everywhere, and his hands itched to feel over Dr. Romano's skin again, and his mouth felt unsatisfied, and he was completely embarrassed and he wanted more, lots more, more more more everything.  He wanted to fuck Dr. Romano.  Hard.  A lot.

        Dr. Romano left for work shortly after that.  Eventually he had to go to work, too.  He wasn't sure if this was the best day of his life or not; mostly he felt disoriented and nervous.  Apparently he was good in bed, if Rebecca and Janelle could be trusted.  But with Dr. Romano he'd lost control, lost any suave posturing, lost any seductive allure; he'd just gone on greed and a prayer.  He also hadn't done a thing to tend to Dr. Romano's needs; he didn't even know whether Dr. Romano had been turned on or not.  Could he have been any more of a selfish lover?  Lover, hah.  Essentially, they were newly-named friends and Dr. Romano had jerked him off, probably out of pity.

        He considered asking Carter for advice on how to keep a seductive edge while kissing the man of your dreams, but he didn't feel like explaining why.  How to keep a seductive edge - - hell, he'd like to be able to keep any brain functions at all.

        When he got home, Dr. Romano was locked up in the study.  That made sense; there probably were a lot of things to be done after being gone at the conference.  Then he learned that he'd be eating alone because Dr. Romano had a dinner to attend.  He didn't even see Dr. Romano that night.  He went to bed and jerked off in the darkness, licking his lips and trying to remember the feel of Dr. Romano's hands on his flesh.

        "Good morning, Dave."  She set down a glass of milk as he sat at the table.

        "I'm sorry about yesterday, in the morning."

        "You mean the live sex show?"

        "Yeah.  I didn't mean for that to happen.  I wanted it to happen, but not like that, and not in front of you."

        "I left as soon as you two got to the table and left the doorway clear for my escape.  I assume that I missed something fairly interesting."

        "Yeah."

        "But you didn't see him last night?"

        "Nope.  Either he's avoiding me or he doesn't care enough to bother seeing me again."

        "Dr. Romano doesn't do one-night stands.  Or one-morning stands.  Or ten-minute stands.  As for your apology, I'm only happy that something's finally happening.  Please don't ever have sex on my kitchen table again, all right?"

        "It's my kitchen table," Dr. Romano said.  "I chose it, I paid for it, it's in my kitchen in my home."

        "Good morning, Dr. Romano," Rebecca said.

        "So."  Dr. Romano actually sat on the kitchen table again; was this a new habit for the new millenium?  Dr. Romano was perched directly in front of Dave and to the left, one bared foot resting on the edge of Dave's seat.  "Rebecca, go wash the windows out front."

        Rebecca left the kitchen.

        "Last time was my turn.  Now it's yours."

        "Anything I want?" Dave asked, finally meeting Dr. Romano's eyes.

        "Nothing that requires stitches."

        He shifted his chair over to the left, moving closer.  He eased Dr. Romano's left thigh over, spreading Dr. Romano's legs more.  Then he opened Dr. Romano's sash and pulled apart the edges of the robe, baring Dr. Romano to his gaze.  Naked.  Naked naked naked - - Dr. Romano was nude under the robe, and Dave could see anything he wanted - - everything he wanted.  He knew what he wanted, he'd known it as soon as Dr. Romano sat down, as soon as Dr. Romano walked into the kitchen, as soon as Dr. Romano...  Oh, yes, this was perfect, he wanted this, he wanted this so fucking badly, it was like coming home...  Dr. Romano's fingers sifted through his hair gently, and Dr. Romano's fingers came beneath his chin to urge him up a little, guiding him.  Yes, perfect...

        He managed to swallow.  He needed a lot more practice at this.  With any luck, he'd get plenty of opportunities for it.  He sat back in his chair, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, looking up to Dr. Romano's eyes.

        "I was under the impression that you'd never been with a man.  Was I wrong?"

        "No, you were right."

        "You did that very well."  Dr. Romano came off the table and into his lap, straddling his thighs, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, kissing him deep and slow.  Then there was a hand between his thighs, down his pants, jerking him off too slowly, making him ache with it.  Dr. Romano's robe was still on but completely open, and Dave ran his hands all over Dr. Romano's body.  He wanted to kiss forever, and he wanted to feel this forever, and he wanted to keep Dr. Romano there forever, but he came.

        The kiss ended eventually, sooner than he wanted.  Dr. Romano twisted around, reaching on the table for napkins.  Dr. Romano wiped up the mess and closed Dave's pants.  "Enjoy your breakfast."  Dr. Romano kissed him again, deep with one wicked lewd tongue, before getting up and leaving the kitchen.

        He rubbed his thighs and did his best to remember that he wasn't necessarily supposed to live the rest of his life grinning like a fool.

        "Your apology now seems less sincere," Rebecca said, reentering the kitchen.  "I hope that you had a nice time."

        "Very nice."  He grinned.  Dr. Romano's hand sure knew how to pump him.  Naked, if Dr. Romano had been completely naked under that robe for all of this time...

        "Is this going to become a habit?"

        "I hope so."

        When he got home from work, Dr. Romano came over and sat beside him on the sofa.  "Is it time for a drawn-out relationship discussion?"

        "Guys do that?" Dave asked.  "I thought that was a female thing."

        "Good."

        "Wait.  Um...  So we're friends who have sex?  Is this a regular thing?  Is it just something you feel like doing this week?  Is it-"

        "We get along well.  Which is a miracle, considering you're an insensitive arrogant 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.  I can top or bottom.  I like nothing better than getting a good cocksucking, and if this morning is any indication I'll have no complaints there.  And, for your benefit, I can give head better than any woman you've ever met.  We can be friends, we can be lovers, we can be two guys who live together and sometimes fuck.  It's up to you."

        "We could have a monogamous sexual relationship?  An official romantic thing?"

        "Before you start picking out china patterns, let's clear up something.  Are you looking for a two-week commitment, something to keep you amused until you move out again, or a long-term affair with no end in sight?"

        "The last one."

        "What happened to your goal of having both brains and beauty?"

        "You have brains and beauty."

        "Nothing better than a relationship based on lies."

        "I know you aren't Tom Cruise.  Although he's only 5'9", you know.  But I like the way you look.  I like it a lot.  A whole fucking lot," he said, and leaned closer, and kissed Dr. Romano.

        "Lucky me," Dr. Romano said.  "Ground rules, Dr. Dave.  Number one, if you want to get into my bed on a regular basis, keep your hands off of everyone else.  I don't share.  Number two, if the people at work know about us that's fine, and we can talk at work, but keep your hands to yourself in public unless otherwise instructed.  Number three, if you would like you may take up residency in my bed.  You may share my closet space and bathroom, too, since I'm feeling generous.  Number four, as I said, I like to top and bottom.  You may have a preference yourself, but I'll expect some flexibility.  Number five, I like sex and I'll want lots of it.  Number six, you may, at some point, want to try calling me 'Robert.'"

        "So I can go to the E.R. tomorrow and tell Elizabeth Corday that I'm living in your house and sleeping in your bed and fucking you?"

        "If you'd like," Dr. Romano said.

        "I've never been with a man before.  I'm sure you'll tell me if I do something wrong.  Do we have time to get naked before dinner?"

        "We do.  Let's try it in an actual bedroom this time."

        They went upstairs.  Dave had only been in Dr. Romano's room once before, when Rebecca had showed it to him.  He was impressed all over again.  "I don't like to waste water, it's the only good thing my mom tried to teach me that I actually learned.  But could we have sex in the hot tub sometime?"

        "We can have sex anywhere you want," Dr. Romano said.

        "In the O.R.?"

        "I'll look into it.  Come over here and kiss me."

        Dave grinned and stepped up close to Dr. Romano.  "I get to sleep in the big boss man's bed.  Tonight, could you prove to me what you said about how well you...you know..."

        "If you won't say it, I won't do it."  Dr. Romano kissed him.  He could hear Austin Powers' enthusiastic voice in his head: "Yeah baby, yeah!"  He slid his hands down Dr. Romano's back and tugged the shirt from the waistband, sliding one hand beneath to feel silky warm skin.  Sucking tongue with the chief of staff.

        "Dave?"

        "He's busy!" Dr. Romano shouted between kisses.

        Dave grinned and called, "What?" while unbuttoning Dr. Romano's shirt.  He wanted to do some of that getting-to-know-you stuff, licking necks and kissing nipples and stuff, all of that good sexy stuff.  He'd never kissed someone's Adam's apple before, and he wanted to try.

        "I'm sorry, Dr. Romano, Dave.  Dinner's ready.  I can-"

        "We'll be there in a second," he called, and kissed Dr. Romano.  He rebuttoned and stepped back.

        "Bitch," Dr. Romano muttered.

        "Me or Rebecca?" Dave asked.  "Let's go eat."

        "Is this my punishment for making you wait all of this time?"

        "If you're into punishment, you ain't seen nothing yet."

        They were quite restrained through dinner, eating casually and talking as they long had.  When they were finished eating, they stayed at the table to talk further, and it was just as good as usual, even better, not at all uncomfortable.  Dave was glad that they could keep having their regular relationship, and still be friends, and not have it all be sex or nothing.  But he couldn't wait until they went to bed.

        They did go to bed, eventually.  First Dr. Romano popped into the study while Dave moved his belongings from his room into Dr. Romano's.  Then he ran downstairs and hugged Rebecca.  Then he brushed his teeth and wondered how obvious to be, wondered what he wanted to happen.  Dr. Romano came up, kissed him, did stuff in the bathroom, chased out Gretel, closed the door.  Dave sat on the bed, experimentally.  Wow.  "This is one nice bed."  He got rid of his shoes and socks.  "Want me naked?"

        "I wouldn't complain."  He got up to strip, and Dr. Romano pulled down the covers.  Of course there were silk sheets, of course there were.  He pulled off his shirt, unbuttoned his pants.  He was leaving his stuff in a pile on the floor, and he figured that if Dr. Romano wanted him to be any neater he'd hear about it.  He got down to his boxers and paused because Dr. Romano was touching him, running a hand down his back, across his side.  Dr. Romano licked his nipple, then leaned up and kissed his mouth.  He opened Dr. Romano's shirt, pushed it back, undid the cuffs, got it off, then reached down and opened Dr. Romano's pants.  Dr. Romano finished the job, and before he could realize that Dr. Romano was utterly naked in front of him, Dr. Romano's hands were tugging down his boxers, too.  He slid his hands down over Dr. Romano's ass, over Dr. Romano's thighs.  Naked man.

        The height difference wasn't a problem for him.  The lack of a soft cushion of breasts was new and different.  The cock instead of a hole thing was, obviously, also new and different, and exciting.  Here was this whole new different, exciting, forbidden, sexy, erotic world opening up to him.  He wanted to try everything, experience everything, learn it all for himself.

        They stopped kissing then and got on the bed, on their sides, kissing each other and fiddling with each other's bodies.  He got to do the kissing the neck thing, kissing the ears, kissing the clavicle, kissing whatever the hell he damn well pleased because god everything was so new and interesting and, frankly, tasted pretty good.  He tried giving a blow job again, and apparently did fairly well for his second attempt.  Dr. Romano came down his throat, at least, and looked insufferably smug afterward.  Not long after that he found himself on his back.

        When he gave Dr. Romano a blow job, Dr. Romano just sat back, or laid back, and took it like it was well-earned homage.  Dave, under no circumstances, could stay that casual about it.  In the past, depending on the expertise of the woman sucking him off, he'd been in varied stages of sexual tension.  Sometimes he could lie back and take it, and sometimes he had to recite medical texts to keep from coming too soon.  When Dr. Romano settled in between his thighs, there was no hope for him.  He was gone.  He was begging, actually begging, within seconds, and he'd never begged for it.  His pride was gone.  His mind was gone.  All he wanted was more, please, more, he wanted to come, it felt so good, so fucking fucking good...  Heat, and suction, and wet, and tongue, and lips, and teeth, and that hot silky throat.  First of all, Dr. Romano's hands were bad enough, with those dexterous fingers and that knowing palm.  Secondly, the man's tongue ought to have been outlawed, it was so wicked.  Third, oh god, Dr. Romano knew how to deep throat, swallowed him whole, took him all until he was snug in that hot wet sucking yes god god yes!

        He screamed.

        This time, at least, he was saying the right name.  Which was good, because he'd panted it and begged it at least a dozen times, definitely more.

        Dr. Romano swallowed.

        They kissed some more, resting against each other's bodies, petting each other lazily.  He stroked in between Dr. Romano's thighs.

        "Tomorrow," Dr. Romano said.

        He raised his eyebrows.

        "Don't start casting aspersions on my sexual potency.  I can come again, and I know you can, too.  I just don't want to use up all of my tricks in one night."

        "When you say tomorrow, do you mean..."

        "Tomorrow morning.  Bright and early.  Before we go down for breakfast; I wouldn't want to scandalize Rebecca again."

        "She likes it."

        "She would."  Dr. Romano kissed him some more.  "Go to sleep.  Do you need space or are you a snuggler?"

        "I'm sort of the snuggling type.  Don't tell anyone."

        Dr. Romano kissed him.  "Sleep."

        He opened his eyes.  Wow.  "Dr. Romano."

        Dr. Romano's hand roamed his back.  "How familiar are you with your prostate?  Strangers, on speaking terms, or intimate?"

        "We're very intimate."

        "Has anyone else ever visited it?"

        "No."

        "You use your fingers?"

        "Three."

        "This sounds more and more promising."  Dr. Romano kissed him.  "May I?"

        "Be my guest."

        As they remained there, on their sides, kissing, his leg was drawn up and over Dr. Romano's hip.  Dr. Romano's hand traced up the back of his thigh, stroking him idly.  His balls were visited briefly, not long enough, before Dr. Romano ran a finger back and forth over his pucker.  He knew that he was tensing up and he couldn't help it.  Dr. Romano's other hand left his back; their kiss never faltered, but he knew what was going on back there.  The finger at his asshole was wet suddenly, confirming his suspicions.  Dr. Romano ran the slickness around his opening, then pushed.

        His ass got very greedy and sucked Dr. Romano's finger right in.  It knew this, it liked this.  He'd finger-fucked himself often enough that his ass was familiar with the procedure that was always slightly foreign yet pleasurable and exciting.  Dr. Romano's finger was new and different, and it was more than a little unnerving to realize that someone else was touching him there.  But his body knew what it liked, and Dr. Romano's finger of course knew exactly what it was doing.

        Soon there was another finger, and Dr. Romano found his prostate.  Hot damn.  He almost came from that first stimulation.  Dr. Romano actually chuckled into their kiss.  Dr. Romano worked in a third finger.  Now it was tight and full, and Dr. Romano was flipping his trigger with every stroke, and he was rocking his hips against Dr. Romano's to enhance the finger-fuck and to shove his cock against Dr. Romano's cock, which had to be one of the most exciting things he'd yet encountered.  He thrust against Dr. Romano, who picked up a nice counterthrust as the fingers in his ass kept going.  As he came, he distinctly heard himself say, "God Robert, fuck me."  Then thrust thrust thrust and Dr. Romano came against him.

        "Tonight," Dr. Romano said, "we can explore our options in that arena.  For now," ungodly lewd kiss, "go ahead and take a shower.  I expect that Rebecca will want to hear your version of this story."

        He showered.  Dressed.  Ate.  Went to work.

        "Dave."

        "Stop staring at my face."  Had Dr. Romano left a hickey or something?

        "Stubble chafing.  You have stubble chafing.  You've been making out with a guy?"

        "Carter, not everyone is in bed with a man.  Some of us are straight."

        "Bullshit."

        "Don't swear at me."  Now that he knew about the whole stubble thing, he had a little sympathy for women, but actually it was nice, in a weird way.  Actually, not much about Dr. Romano was nice in a straightforward way.

        He took care of some minor problems and some major emergencies.  He was just sitting down to sew up a nice knife wound when Dr. Romano graced the E.R.  He listened as Dr. Romano spoke with Elizabeth.  Then Dr. Romano walked up behind him.  "Dr. Dave."

        "Dr. Romano."

        Looking over a minute later, Kerry saw Dave standing and watching as Dr. Romano sat there putting in the stitches.  "Mark."

        "Hmm?"  He looked up and followed her line of sight.  "Romano's sewing up Malucchi's patient?"

        "Do you have any explanation for that?"

        "No I do not.  Abby.  Why is Dr. Romano sewing up Dave's patient?" Mark asked.
        Abby looked over and them looked back to Mark.  "I don't know, sir."

        They heard Dr. Romano laugh.  Abby looked worried.  Mark couldn't handle this weirdness in his E.R.  He walked over and said, "Dr. Romano.  How nice of you to help Dr. Malucci."

        "His stitches are better than mine," Dave said.  "I know that means that I should be doing them, to practice, but Jake's a model, so Dr. Romano's helping out."

        Mark had never seen finer, neater work.  "We always appreciate it when you can help us out here," he told Dr. Romano.

        "Then I'll make it a point to spend more time in the E.R.," Dr. Romano said, not looking up from his work.

        "Great," Mark said.  "That's great."

        "Stop, I'm blushing," Dr. Romano said.

        "Hey," Dave told Mark, "next time we get one of those bagel-cutting accidents or something, call me.  I want to see if I can do it like that."

        "Please, resist your desire to worship me," Dr. Romano said.  "All right, Jake, we're finished here.  Next time try to remember that you keep the sharp end away from your face."  He stood, stripping off his gloves.  "Dr. Green."

        "Dr. Romano."

        "Mark."

        "Robert."

        "Try to see that Dr. Dave does get a chance to play the seamstress.  I don't want any second-rate stitches coming from my E.R."

        "I'll work on that."

        "Good.  Dr. Malucci."

        "Dr. Romano."

        Then Mark saw one of the rarest sights this side of the Yeti; Dr. Romano smiled.  A real, authentic, actual smile, aimed at Dave.  Then Dr. Romano turned and left the E.R.

        Dave flashed a grin at Mark.  "My stitches don't suck that badly.  And we all know this is your E.R."

        "Did he offer to help you?"

        "Yes.  And if you'll look overhead, you'll see pigs.  It's been one of those days."

        When Dave got home, he took Gretel to the park and harassed Rebecca, who ended up making him fold the laundry.  Then Dr. Romano came home and they had supper.  He and Dr. Romano relaxed in the sitting room to talk.  Eventually, they moved into each other's personal space; eventually, they began to kiss.

        "Before we get overexcited," Dr. Romano said, standing, "let's move this upstairs."

        "Can I ask you something?"

        Dr. Romano waited, eyes narrowing.

        "Are you going to...  Am I...  Who's doing the fucking of whom, here?"

        "That's up to you.  We're doing it one way tonight, and saving the other way for tomorrow night."

        "Could you do me first?"

        "I could."

        "Will you?"

        "Upstairs, Dave, upstairs."

        His back hit the mattress.  Dr. Romano's mouth ran down his upper arm while deft fingers sought between his thighs.  He tilted his hips a little, and Dr. Romano's mouth skipped over to his nipple, and Dr. Romano's first finger went inside him.  He knew that he was being a total slut, arching his back and spreading his thighs and doing that open-mouthed moaning thing, but damn that felt good.  Dr. Romano was up now, over him, looking down into his eyes.  He just stared back, floating on the feeling, moving his hips against Dr. Romano's hand.  Two fingers now, finding his prostate.  Dr. Romano was looking at him half like dead-on dark lust and half like being happy to make him happy.  The third finger entered and his lashes fluttered while he tried to keep control of the sensation.  He'd never last through being fucked; he might as well come now.

        The fingers left.  Damn it.  "More."  God, was that his voice?  He sounded breathy and stupid with desire.  He sounded like someone out of a trashy romance novel, and the heroine at that.

        "You want to roll over or do it face-to-face?"

        "I'm not moving."

        "Will you do me the favor of lifting your leg at least?"

        "Just have your wicked way with me.  Damn it, how flexible do you think I am?"

        "This is going to hurt."

        "You'll make it up to me."

        "That's the idea."

        Okay, something was pressing at his hole, trying to get inside of him.  Nope, not getting in there.  Oh holy shit.  He tried to keep breathing, sucked in air and shoved it out again.  Brown eyes were looking down at him, patient.  He tried to nod.  Knuckles brushed his jaw; he turned his head to the touch, lashes lowering, and there was another thrust and it lasted longer and he knew that Dr. Romano was inside of him, completely inside now, and it was full and it made his joints ache and he kept breathing.  Movement, in and out, back and forth, and the angle shifted, and a thumb passed over his cheekbone so he moved his head back again so that he could look up into Dr. Romano's eyes some more.  Then Dr. Romano rocked right into his prostate, and it jolted his entire body.  After that, there were a lot of fireworks and thrusting and gasping and moaning, and he was begging again.  He had his legs wrapped around Dr. Romano tightly and his hands gripping the headboard for support.  He knew that most men couldn't come just from being fucked; they needed a helping hand to get there.  He couldn't bother to spare any attention for his cock; he was too busy being fucked to death.  Dr. Romano came, and he got to watch every glorious second of it.

        "Can we do this every day?" he asked when he could breathe again.

        Dr. Romano eased out of him.  "At least.  I'll book the O.R."

        "The E.R. staff thinks you've gone nuts, but they haven't connected it to me yet."

        "They will."

        "What are you doing?  Oh my god oh my god...oh my god oh my god..."  He lifted his hips from the mattress to get closer to that hot wet mouth.

        "Slow down, Dave."

        "Oh god oh god oh god oh god..."  His eyes rolled back in his head.  "Yes, please, oh god yes, oh god please."

        "Dave."

        "Don't stop, please, please..."

        "You're going to come in another second and then where's the fun?"

        "It'll be fun, believe me, it'll be a lot of fun."

        "Calm down a little."

        "Calm down.  He fucks me and he gives my balls a tongue bath and he tells me to calm down."  Dr. Romano kissed his mouth.  "Oh god..."  He was kissed thoroughly, until his tongue was more familiar with Dr. Romano's mouth than with his own.  Then Dr. Romano ducked down again and sucked him off expertly.  He collapsed, boneless.  He'd come so hard there were tears dripping into his ears.

        "You've never sucked cock before and never been fucked before, but you handled them both like a pro.  I'd love to see how you fuck," Dr. Romano said, resting against him.

        "No pressure."

        "If you don't want to do it-"

        "Oh, I want to do it.  I want to and I'm going to and you're going to love it."

        "I look forward to it."

        He was amazed at his sunny outlook.  Where had his attitude gone?  He was still as arrogant as ever, but he kept it in perspective now, somehow.

        He saw Dr. Romano come down and speak with Peter.  Elizabeth joined them.  What he'd give to be somebody important, someone with a job of responsibility, someone with a position and a title that meant something.  Well, he was Dr. Romano's fuck boy, and that came with its own unique position: legs spread, knees up, back-

        "Dave."

        "Dr. Romano."  He assumed an attitude of respect, hands clasped behind his back, ready to listen attentively.

        "How's your student?"

        "She's doing well, Dr. Romano.  Thank you for asking."

        "I hate small talk.  Let's cut to the chase."

        "Yes sir."

        "Dr. John Grantly is going to be in town tomorrow.  You have tomorrow off, if I recall correctly."

        "Yes sir."

        "Will you be available to take him on a tour of the hospital?  I'd do it myself, but I have actual work to do."

        "Yes sir."

        "Good.  I'll give you the details later."

        "Will I be paid?"

        "Consider it a personal favor."

        "So you owe me one?"

        "Let's not get carried away."

        "Let's."

        "I'll go book an O.R.," Dr. Romano promised, smiling and walking away.

        "Book an O.R.?" Elizabeth asked.

        "Don't worry, Lizzie, we won't be needing you," Dr. Romano assured her in passing.

        "God, no," Dave said.  "I'd never be able to perform.  Surgery.  Perform surgery."

        "What are you talking about?" Elizabeth asked.

        "Sorry.  Confidential.  Top secret.  Very hush-hush," Dave said.  "I think I have a patient somewhere.  Excuse me."  He turned and bumped into Carter.  "Whoa.  Nice hickey."

        "Thanks, Dave."

        "So you got one of those anyplace else?  Anywhere interesting?"

        "Wouldn't you like to know."

        "You know, I never saw Elizabeth or Cleo with one of these."

        "That's probably because they have make-up and I don't.  And you weren't here when Peter was with Elizabeth."

        "Do you ever call Dr. Romano by his first name?" Dave asked.

        "Hell no.  I leave that to the higher-ups.  Hey, even Peter calls him Dr. Romano."

        "To his face, anyway."

        "Gosh, I think I have a patient somewhere.  Excuse me."

        Dave went home.  Dr. Romano came, and they talked about Dr. Grantly.  John was in Chicago for a day between flights and wanted a tour of the hospital to kill time.  Dr. Romano gave Dave a refresher course on the hospital that evening so that he'd be well-informed for tomorrow.

        By eleven, Dave was antsy.  He went up to bed, stretched naked under the covers, rubbed his hand over the silk.  He was going to do this, and he was going to make it good.  He didn't want lousy sex to ruin his life.  It had to be good.  It had to be great.  It had to be perfect.

        He was going to fuck Dr. Romano.

        "You're grinning like a fool and, I assume, naked," Dr. Romano said, entering the room.  "I take it that means you're ready to get started."

        He closed his eyes and thought about Elizabeth.  She got sex with Peter and Mark, but she never got in Dr. Romano's bed.  Granted, she hadn't wanted to go, but that was her loss.  She got to call him Robert, though.  In her lovely English accent no less.

        "Stop scowling."

        He opened his eyes and looked up at Dr. Romano.  "Hi.  I thought it was my turn to be on top."

        "One question before we start.  Have you ever sixty-nined?"

        "No.  You do that?"

        "Tomorrow night."  Dr. Romano kissed down his neck.  "Ready?"

        "Absolutely ready."

        Dr. Romano kissed his mouth.  They tugged down the sheet that was between them, and then it was full-body contact, which felt great.  Dave wanted to be on top; he rolled them over, and Dr. Romano settled easily beneath him, thighs spread to accomodate.  He really liked kissing Dr. Romano, so he stayed there for a while.  Eventually his hand worked down and stroked Dr. Romano's erection a little before sliding down, balls, perineum, there it was, the promised land.  He lifted his head, finally, and looked for the lube.  He stretched for it on the bedside table and uncapped it.  He slid down a little on the bed, wanting to devote his full attention to this part.  He slicked up his fingers and tried to warm the gel a little bit.  Dr. Romano's knees went up, feet planted wide apart on the mattress.  How very thoughtful.  He reached out and brushed his finger against the entrance to Dr. Romano's body.  Clenched tight as anything.  Well, given the man's personality, he shouldn't be surprised.  One hand gently stroked Dr. Romano's erection while the other tried to massage the pucker.  He pushed his first finger in slowly.  Dr. Romano's muscles gripped it, and he spent a moment caressing in reassurance.  This was fascinating, and he wished that he weren't too turned on to enjoy it.  He stretched the muscle and pushed in his second finger.  He wormed his fingers in and out a little before he went searching.  It should be right...there, ah, yes.  He kept stabbing at that spot while he finger-fucked.  He waited a while, then tried the third finger.  Tight fit, damn it.  It was tight, and hot, and lube-slicked, and he couldn't wait to feel it around his cock, which was throbbing against the silk sheets and drooling already.  Greedy bastard, his cock.  He removed his fingers carefully, and Dr. Romano's hole snapped shut.  Damn it.  He moved up further, trying to align their bodies.  He took his cock in hand, spreading lube, and rested the head where he wanted it.  Then he looked up to Dr. Romano.

        The smug bastard was lying back like this was an everyday occurrence.  Well, someone here obviously had done this before.

        He looked back down between their bodies.  He wanted to see his cock go in there.  Yeah, baby, yeah.  He moved his hand down his cock to Dr. Romano's asshole, where he opened it up with two fingers.  He thrust.

        God, maybe he shouldn't have thrust quite that hard quite yet.  Tight hot wet tight hot tight so fucking good.  More more more.  He thrust in again until he was planted firmly, sliding into home.  Don't come don't come don't come don't come.  He thought about Dr. Corday, about the Queen of England, about naming every nerve ending in the body, but he couldn't do it, he just kept feeling this exquisite, erotic, perfect sensation.  He wanted more, wanted motion, wanted friction, wanted this moving and clamping on him.  So he adjusted his stance, so to speak, and moved.

        He remembered to look at what he was doing.  He looked at Dr. Romano, whose eyes were closed.  He paused for a second and kissed Dr. Romano, who kissed him back.  Good.  So he wasn't fucking up totally.  He went back to thrusting, found out that he really really liked this, and kept going, picking up a rhythm, getting the slide right.  Wait, damn it, where was the - - oh, god, that must have been it, Dr. Romano's ass was spasming around his cock and Dr. Romano had sucked in air fast.  He kept himself at that angle again, thrusting more, more, more, yeah, this was perfect, he was never going to leave.  He'd just take up permanent residence in Dr. Romano's ass.  He balanced so that he could get one hand free, and he wrapped it around Dr. Romano's cock.  He wanted Dr. Romano to get off during their fuck.  He rubbed and pulled and stroked and squeezed and here it came, and he looked down and watched Dr. Romano's cum shooting out between his fingers over their bodies, and the sight made him thrust a little harder, and he came, and he came deep inside Dr. Romano, and he knew he was screaming but he didn't care it was fucking glorious.

        A religious experience.  He'd now converted to worshipping Dr. Romano's ass.  He tried to breathe again, tried to stop shaking, and eased himself out of Dr. Romano's body.

        "Are you okay?"

        Dr. Romano shifted around a little.  "It would seem so.  Do you listen to what comes out of your mouth while you're doing that?"

        "Um, not usually.  Why, what did I say?"

        Dr. Romano smiled.  "Quite interesting."  He was pulled up and kissed, deep and slow.  He relaxed on Dr. Romano's body.  He knew how to do this, kissing and caressing.  Of course, usually there wasn't a load of cum in the way.  He wanted to stay and keep kissing, but he forced himself from their embrace.  Dr. Romano sighed and stretched to the bedside table for tissues.  When Dr. Romano stretched, Dave ran his eyes down to admire the naked body before him.  That's when he saw it.

        "Shit.  Oh my god shit."

        "What?" Dr. Romano asked, half amused, half concerned.

        "Blood."

        "Where?"

        He closed his eyes briefly in personal horror, then reached down between Dr. Romano's thighs.  He reached down and back and brushed his fingers over Dr. Romano's asshole, then brought them up tinged with red.  "Shit.  God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't..."  He'd never made anybody bleed before.  Okay, Misty Rifemyer, on her first time, but...god, what had he done?

        Oh.  God, what had he done?

        No, that was impossible.  Dr. Romano was no virgin.

        "I didn't bleed yesterday."

        "You've been fingering yourself."

        "All the time.  Every night, practically.  So?"

        "Your body's used to the intrusion.  Your body's familiar with the-"

        "And yours isn't?"

        "It's not."

        "You haven't..."

        "I don't touch myself there."

        "Ever?"

        "Ever."

        "And it's been a while since you were last with a guy?"

        "Maybe we should clear up a few misleading comments on my part."

        "Oh god."  He dropped to one side, settling on his stomach, face buried in the pillow.  "Don't tell me."

        "I've been with men.  A long time ago."

        "Three years ago?  Five years ago?"

        "I was in college."

        "Med school?"

        "I was an undergraduate."

        He groaned.

        "I topped.  A lot.  And I learned how to suck cock.  But I never let anyone try to fuck me."

        He groaned louder.

        "So in that sense, I've been a virgin until tonight."

        "Why don't you tell me these things?!"

        "I didn't want to make you nervous."

        "Wait.  I'm the first person you let near you?"

        "Yes."

        "Why?  I mean, why me?"

        "I like you."  Dr. Romano stroked the back of his neck.  "I like you a lot, Dr. Dave."  The fingers skimmed over his shoulders, traced the muscles in his back.  Then he felt Dr. Romano over him, straddling him.  Kissing his shoulders.  Lapping a trail down his spine.  Kissing across his waist.  Oh, no, this seriously was not happening - - oh god that felt good.  He spread his thighs, resting up on his elbows, face still in the pillow.  Oh god yes.  Little curious licks.  Wet hot licks.  Serious, way-down, tongue-fucking.  Yes, the tongue was one strong muscle.  He was completely getting off on this.  He hadn't really thought about it, considered it one of those things that other people did.  But now he knew what it really was, and now he'd had it done, and now he wanted more.  Lots more.

        Dr. Romano flipped him expertly and started licking around the base of his cock.

        Okay, he was never leaving this bed.