Damaged Part Three


St. George’s hospital was a rabbit warren of endless corridors and heads-down scurrying people. Orli stood wondering how come they all knew where they were going while Elijah consulted a screwed up scrap of paper and peered up at the overhead signs. "This way," he said, pointing up a flight of stairs. "I think."

It turned out Elijah had to have blood taken before he could see the doctor. Orli’s heart fell as they entered the waiting room; rows and rows of plastic chairs were filled with every type of person, all in an enormous queue for bloodletting.

Elijah went straight over to the reception desk. Within moments of his deceptive smile, caressing voice and the soft touch of a hand he was being ushered into a cubical. His grin back at Orli said it all, ‘sometimes I have my uses.’

Then it was back to wandering up and down corridors looking at signs. Elijah saw one that seemed to make some sense to him and they were off. Urology, what did that mean? Orli suddenly realised that he had no idea what was actually meant to be wrong with Elijah; he sure as hell looked healthy enough.

Now wasn’t the time to ask either. Once inside the department Elijah was given a sheaf of forms to fill out and then he was whisked off for an ultrasound. Wasn’t that what you had when you were pregnant? Orli didn’t want to think about it, instead he read the posters on the walls and discovered more about ‘urinary tract infections’ than he had ever wanted to know.

Now Elijah was back, fidgeting in the chair next to Orli, not talking, picking and twisting at the broken plastic of the armrest. Orli noticed his shirt was buttoned up wrong; it hadn’t been like that before so obviously ultrasounds when you weren’t pregnant involved you getting undressed.

"So what was the ultrasound for?" Orli asked.

"Nothing," Elijah pulled up his sleeve and picked off the plaster from where they had taken blood from the crook of his arm. It began to bleed again.

"They don’t do stuff like that for nothing, not with the NHS. They don’t do stuff at all if they can help it," Orli tried to joke but Elijah wasn’t having it.

"To check stuff." He twisted away from Orli.

Fine. If the guy didn’t want to talk about it Orli didn’t care. He just wondered why he was here at all; Elijah had said barely two words to him since he’d got home from work, but they couldn’t be much longer now, and then Orli was off for a drink. It was Friday after all, nothing to get up for tomorrow so he could stay out as long as he liked, and this time he was most definitely not taking Elijah with him.

Just at that moment Elijah’s name was called and Orli heaved a sigh of relief. He could have a quick snooze while Elijah saw the doctor and then he was out of here.

Elijah stopped a few feet away, turned, and looked at Orli. "Come on then."

"You want me to come in with you?" Orli asked in amazement.

"You fucking said you would!" His voice was high-pitched, shrill, as he gnawed at a finger. The guy was a wuss, scared of doctors! Shit, Orli thought he didn’t need this but… the sooner they got it over with the sooner they could leave.

He got up and followed Elijah.

+

The doctor seemed nice enough, an Asian woman of about forty-five, short dark hair, small, wire-rimmed glasses. She appeared competent and capable; shame about the monotonous voice. Orli found it hard to concentrate as she asked endless questions and Elijah answered with a mumbled ‘Yeah,’ or ‘No,’ or even a nod of the head. Rude bastard.

Next Elijah was taken behind a screen, a nurse following – what was that all about? A chaperone? Orli heard the request for Elijah to remove some clothes and then their voices were muffled and all he could hear were odd grunts from Elijah. When they came out and Elijah retook his seat Orli noticed that his shirt buttons were done up properly.

He still didn’t know what was wrong with Elijah, maybe the guy was pregnant. That would be a laugh.

And then he heard it, the C word. Cancer. Elijah had cancer? Fuck.

Orli started to listen properly.

It was ninety five percent certain from the tests done in the hospital in Birmingham and those here that he had testicular cancer. Fuck.

Orli looked across at Elijah. He was sitting hunched over in the chair, one foot caught up, his shoulders stooped, his head down. No wonder he was shit scared.

Orli realised the doctor was talking again and neither of them were listening properly. This was something he could do. He started to concentrate.

A few minutes later he glanced across again. If anything Elijah had withdrawn further into himself. Orli reached a hand over and rested it on a tense arm. "’Lijah, did you hear what she said? She said it’s pretty curable. It’s been caught early so if you get the treatment done you should be okay."

Elijah pulled himself upright in the chair. "Curable, yeah." There was a deliberate straightening of his back and pushing up of his shoulders as he fought, and won, a battle for control. "I have to have treatment, that’s why I came here," his voice was stronger. Then Elijah changed tack, his eyes went to the doctor. The lashes fluttered and the look was just for her. "You’ll help me, won’t you? You’ll help me and I’ll find some way to help you."

The doctor looked a little confused, eyes flitting from Elijah to her notes. Orli quickly threw out a question. "What’s the treatment? Is it chemotherapy?"

The doctor turned her attention to him. It seemed more… straightforward. "It can be, but first we have to determine what type of cancer it is. That’s done in the lab after the tumour is removed."

Removed. Did that mean what Orli thought it meant?

He looked at Elijah again; Elijah knew exactly what it meant.

Orli crossed his legs.

The doctor was talking again. "We need to get this done as soon as possible, I can’t think why you’ve waited this long. So, I suggest the Orchiectomy is done next Tuesday," she consulted some papers on her desk. "You come into hospital on the Monday, that will fit in nicely with my schedule. We can look at the results and take things from there."

"An orchy what?" Orli’s mouth had gone very dry.

"An Orchiectomy. We remove the testicle through an incision in the groin and…" Orli didn’t hear anymore. Instead he watched as Elijah leaned over and slowly stroked the back of the woman’s hand, small soft licks of flesh that made her look up into wide blue eyes.

"You’ll take care of me, won’t you." It wasn’t a question. "I’ll make it worth your while."

The doctor’s mouth drifted open, her chest rose and fell in time with Elijah’s breathing and… Orli grabbed Elijah by the upper arm, heaving him out of the chair towards the door. "We’ll be right back," Orli said over his shoulder to the slightly dazed woman. "I just have to talk to my friend for a minute."

Next thing Elijah knew he was in the corridor outside the consulting room, pressed up against the wall. "What the fuck are you doing?" Orli hissed at him.

"What?" Elijah didn’t understand what the problem was.

"You’re hitting on the bloody doctor for Christ sake. Are you mental or something?"

Elijah pushed Orli away and straightened himself up. "I’m protecting myself."

"She’s your doctor!" Orli made a real effort not to shout but by god it was hard going.

"I know and I want her to take real good care of me."

Orli looked at the hard set of Elijah’s face, the confidence and self-reliance, the mask that most people wouldn’t even know was there. Anger wouldn’t win this fight. He reached out a hand, just skimming across Elijah’s arm to rest near his elbow. "She will take good care of you Elijah, you don’t have to sleep with her to get her to do it," Orli’s voice was soft and reassuring. "She’s a doctor, that’s her job."

"But," Elijah leaned back against the wall; the hunched shoulders and the fear both back with a vengeance. "She’s just said she’s gonna cut my balls off, I want her on my side."

"She is on your side," Orli moved to stand in front of him, shielding him from prying eyes. "And she’s only going to cut one off."

"Oh that makes me feel a whole heap better," Elijah tried for a weak smile but it didn’t last. He hesitated for a moment but then went on. "I need to know she’s doing her best for me because… half the time I can’t even hear what’s she’s saying. All I can hear is she’s going to cut my ball off."

"But you don’t have to sleep with someone for them to do their best for you."

"Yeah right," Elijah stared at Orli. "Maybe in kids’ books you don’t, but this is the real world and nothing is for nothing."

Orli folded his arms across his chest and stared right back. "I’m on your side and I’m not sleeping with you." Doubt flooded across Elijah’s face. But there was also a tiny hint of uncertainty right at the edge.

"Come on," Orli said. "We’ll go back in there and I’ll listen to all the other things she says apart from cutting your ball off and then I can keep telling you until it gets through your thick head."

"Do you think I’m stupid?" Elijah asked in a simple voice. No malice or anger to the question.

"No mate, I think you’re perfectly normal," Orli slipped his arm around Elijah’s shoulder and guided him back towards the consulting room. "If someone said they were going to cut one of my balls off I’d be running so fast I wouldn’t be able to hear anything but the wind rushing past my ears."

He stopped, his hand resting on the doorknob, and turned Elijah to face him. "Just no games in there, all right? Let the doctor do her job without you distracting her."

Again Elijah hesitated, chewing at his bottom lip, but then he nodded and they went in.

+

Five forty-five on a wet Friday evening. What do you do at five forty-five on a wet Friday evening when you’ve just been told that you have testicular cancer and this is going to be your last weekend with two balls?

They stood outside the hospital on Tooting high road while Elijah gazed mystified at the bus stop timetable and Orli contemplated the question.

You get wasted, that’s what you do.

But first they needed something to line their stomachs. "Chips or a curry?"

"Huh?" Elijah looked confused.

"I’m going to get you right royally pissed, so pissed you can’t think for a bit. But first you need something in your belly. So what’s it to be, chips or a curry?"

"Chips."

"Sure? Tooting has some amazing curry houses."

"Definitely chips. Curry hurts more on the way back up."


+


The plan was going pretty well. Their bellies were full of burger and chips and Elijah was on his third or maybe fourth drink of the night. Orli might not have been sure of the exact number but he had been careful not to drink too much himself and he’d taken note when Elijah had switched to beer with a Vodka shot in it. A pretty lethal drink. The idea was to get him drunk, not have his stomach pumped.

The bar was packed and a good selection of music was playing; a pumping beat but not so loud you couldn’t hear yourself speak. They leaned against the edge of a ridiculously high table and watched the crowd. Or at least that’s what Orli thought they were doing until Elijah spoke.

"I’m gonna be lop sided."

"What?"

"I’m gonna be lop sided," he slurred slightly. "I mean, I’ve always had one ball bigger than the other but now I’m only going to have one. I’m going to look fucking stupid."

"The doc said you could have a prosthetic put in. Afterwards. Most blokes don’t but you can if you want."

"What’s one of them?"

"Did you hear anything she said?" Orli asked.

Elijah shook his head and grinned.

Orli grinned back. "I’m not really sure but I think it’s like the false breasts women can have when they’ve have one cut off."

"I can have a tit hanging between my legs?" Elijah’s eyes were huge with astonishment and maybe a hint of excitement.

"No idiot. It’s like a false ball."

"Oh," Elijah was clearly disappointed. "Will it have a nipple?"

"I shouldn’t think so," Orli leaned in closer. This really wasn’t the sort of conversation you wanted overheard. "Have another drink."


+


Two drinks later and Elijah was buzzing. Orli had been aware of the subtle looks and open stares Elijah had been getting for a long time. People of both sexes had come up and tried to hit on him but he’d easily shooed them away. As he got drunker and his guard came down things got more obvious and the atmosphere around them changed.

Orli tried to look at him objectively. He was good looking yes, but not that good looking. Okay, now with patches of pink high on his cheekbones and his eyes slightly dazed there was something appealingly attractive about him. But it was more than that.

There was something in the loose-limbed, open way Elijah held himself, something in the way his tongue dragged at the beer on his bottom lip, something in the way his fingers hooked into his own waistband pushing his hip out. Orli thought about how, the first time he’d seen Elijah on the station platform, it had seemed as if he’d thrown a switch and pheromones had pumped out.

Now there was no control, the dam had been opened and they flooded the air around him, turning Elijah into an object of everyone’s interest.

"I need a piss," Elijah mumbled pushing himself upright. "One last shake of the stick while all the bits are still in place."

Orli shook his head and smiled.

"You know what?" Elijah turned to face him. "I should have a last fuck as well. Shit knows when or even if it will all work again afterwards so, do you want some Orlando?"

Elijah reached up and ran both hands through his hair, the movement causing a strip of pale belly to show, as he eased a leg either side of Orli’s thigh, rubbing slowly. Orli gently pushed him back, his smile not quite so solid.

"No thanks, not tonight. You stink of beer."

"Fair enough," Elijah turned, wobbled precariously, burped, and looked through alcohol soaked eyes at the people around him. "Anyone else fancy a fuck?" he asked, slurred but clear and loud enough to get everyone’s attention. "I don’t mind, man or woman, top or bottom. What do you say, anyone want some of my arse?"

In that moment the mood of the place turned dark and faintly dangerous. All movement stopped as dozens of pairs of eyes raked Elijah’s body. He didn’t seem to notice. "You sort out the order among yourselves, I need to piss first," and he started to move away towards the toilet.

Orli saw two men slip out of their places and start to follow, their eyes intent, their destination obvious.

He pushed his way quickly forward and caught Elijah round the shoulders. "Come on mate, we’ve got a nice clean bathroom at home. Let’s get you back there."

"But Orlando," Elijah whined. "Don’t think I can wait that long."

"Then I’ll find you a nice safe alley. Anywhere but here." He felt several eyes boring a hole in his back as he led Elijah out of the bar.


+


Luckily Elijah didn’t actually pass out until Orli got him out of the cab and back into his bedroom. He even half-heartedly helped to get his own denim jacket off, but his jeans proved too much. He could get the flies undone but looking down to pull his trainers off proved the final straw. The room swam, he collapsed back onto the bed and… Orli finished the job.

Orli turned him on his side, just in case, tucked him under the covers, left a large glass of water on the bedside table and turned a small light on. As a last thought he left the door open. Again, just in case.

He also left his own bedroom door open, which was just as well otherwise he might not have heard Elijah fall out of bed at four the following morning.

Elijah was laying on his side, one white sock covered foot still caught up in the tangle of sheets, face squashed between the edge of the bed and the carpet. With a lot of effort Orli managed to drag him upright and then, arms around his waist, up onto the bed. As he did so his face was pressed against Elijah’s chest and he felt rather than heard the gentle beat of his heart. It seemed so soft, so insignificant.

He looked down at Elijah, one leg now hanging off the bed rather than on, dark lashes thick against his skin. He looked more asleep than passed out, as if even the smallest sound could waken him.

Orli gently lifted the leg, holding it near the ankle, and slid it back under the covers. For a brief moment Elijah pushed into the touch, his breathing rounding off and softening, his lips opening a fraction more, and then he was unconscious again.

He looked too young to be going through so much. Orli thought it unfair to do it entirely alone.

+


The first stirrings came from the bedroom a little after two o’clock the following afternoon. Elijah groaned, the bedsprings protested, the bathroom door banged. Ten minutes later a dishevelled head poked round the kitchen door followed by a shuffling body.

"I need caffeine," Elijah rasped.

"Coffee’s on but drink this first," Orli set a tumbler full of water down in front of him. "And then some food."

"Can’t eat," Elijah took a large swig and then flopped forward, his cheek slapping against the tabletop and staying there. "Gonna die."

"Not yet you’re not," Orli put a plate of dry toast and a mug of strong black coffee next to the water. "Have this first."

Elijah went straight for the coffee.

After a moment his head came up and he sniffed. "What’s that smell?"

"You. I think you sweated off all the alcohol, you need a shower."

"Yuck," Elijah hauled himself to his feet, grabbed a handful of the toast and headed for the bathroom.

"Your room stinks as well, open a window. Oh and you might just want to change the sheets."

Elijah’s head poked back round the door. "Can I do it after I die?" He even managed a smile.


+


Elijah spent the rest of the afternoon on the sofa, supposedly watching old black and white films but mostly asleep. At about seven, after his second shower of the day, he looked a bit better. Eyes still blotchy with dark circles under them, but more focused and alert. He wandered out into the kitchen and quietly helped while Orli made dinner. Then they sat in easy silence and ate.

Over more coffee and biscuits Orli started the inevitable conversation. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, thanks. I do."

"Do you want to do something tonight?"

Elijah screwed up his face in thought. "Not really, I can’t remember much about last night to be honest."

"Do you remember the daytime?"

"The hospital? Can’t really forget that."

"You know what’s going to happen Tuesday?"

"They’re gonna cut my ball off, I know."

"Elijah," Orli moved forward in his chair, his hands reaching out towards Elijah’s but then pulling back. "Don’t you want your mum to be around for this? Or someone else?"

Elijah glanced up at Orli, his head tilted to one side. "Haven’t really got anyone else." He looked off into space. "I’m not good at making friends and there isn’t any family who want to know mum and me." He wasn’t asking for sympathy or pity, he was just explaining how things were.

"Do you want her to come down?"

"No, it’s all right."

"Look, it’s not a problem. She can stay here if money’s tight." Elijah’s eyes hardened but Orli wasn’t looking. "I’ve been thinking about it, I can sleep on the sofa and she can have…"

"Orli," Elijah’s voice was firm. "Don’t bother, she isn’t going to come."

"But I don’t understand. Isn’t she worried about you?"

"My mum isn’t like yours," Elijah spoke carefully, choosing his words with consideration. "She isn’t really interested in me now, I’m not… useful to her anymore."

"What that supposed to mean?"

"Leave it, all right. You might not understand but just accept the fact that I really don’t want her here and… she wouldn’t come even if I did." He frowned slightly, his face defiant like a child’s. "I can do this on my own."

"You don’t have to do it on your own Elijah, it’s…" now it was Orli’s turn to search for the right words. "You don’t know me very well and I just thought you’d want someone closer."

Elijah sat back and looked at Orli. "You’ll have to do I guess." The words were harsh but the soft smile that went with them said what Elijah really meant.

"So you’re all right about Tuesday?" Orli asked gently.

"As all right as I’ll ever be I suppose."

"I have to admit I think you’re taking it really well. I’d be fucking freaking if it was me."

"I’ve had time to get my head round it," Elijah reached for the packet of biscuits, offering Orli one. "They told me in Birmingham it was probably cancer and that my ball would have to come off."

"So why didn’t they treat you there?"

Elijah stopped, thinking, the biscuit half way to his mouth. "Let’s say there was a bit of trouble with one of the doctors. The hospital wanted us both out of the way, the doc got suspended and I got told they would find me another hospital."

"What did you do?" Orli asked quietly.

"Why should I have done anything?"

Orli ignored the question. "Did you fuck her on the operating table?" Still Orli’s voice was soft.

Elijah’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t tense up and his voice remained neutral. After chewing and swallowing half the biscuit in one go he spoke. "Actually, it was a bloke and I was blowing him in his office when another consultant walked in."

"Elijah," Orli’s voice was more resigned than angry. "Why do you do it?"

"Because it’s what I am, what I do," he flicked crumbs from the table onto the floor and reached for another biscuit. "It’s what everybody expects me to do, what they want me to do."

"But you don’t have to," Orli said gently.

"What else would I do?" Elijah shrugged. "I don’t know how to do anything else."

"But…"

Elijah interrupted him. "Please don’t push it Orlando. Not now, I’ve kinda got enough on my plate at the moment."

Orli bit back all the arguments that were brewing. Elijah was right; this wasn’t the time, but that time would come.

He tried another tack instead. "Can I ask one thing?" He went on without waiting for permission. "Are you gay or bi? I know you’ll sleep with anyone but I can’t work out if that’s all part of the act as well."

Elijah pushed his chair back from the table and hooked one leg under the other. "Okay, I’ll tell you the truth, you won’t like it but I’ll tell you. I’m whatever people want me to be."

"What the fuck…" Orli caught himself and deliberately shook the annoyance out of his words. "You can’t get away with that."

"Told you you wouldn’t like it."

"Come on, you either like men or women or both. So, who do you like Elijah?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Elijah said as he got up and walked away. It seemed like the truth.


+


Orli was watching the end of a crappy talk show when Elijah wandered in and slumped down next to him on the sofa. It was quiet for a moment then they both began to talk at once, words tumbling over each other. It suddenly went quiet again, rueful grins on both faces, and Orli tried a second time.

"I didn’t mean to push too hard, earlier. But…" he pulled a silly face at Elijah. "You can talk to me you know." He offered Elijah the open box of Pringles he’d been working his way through.

"Don’t wanna talk," Elijah grinned, scooping out a small pile. "Social workers and their like keep trying to make me. I generally just fuck ‘em, it shuts them up right away."

"Elijah," Orli was pretty sure Elijah wasn’t joking but he didn’t actually want to know. "You should talk to someone, it’s not a healthy way to live."

"You think I don’t know that? A bit of divine retribution, me getting testicular cancer of all things. That’s one hell of a fucking payback."

"You didn’t get it because of that. The doctor said…" but Orli gave up as Elijah’s eyebrows rose.

"It might not be the medical reason but in the scheme of things it sure as hell feels like payback." He flipped a crisp into his mouth.

"You should talk to someone about this," Orli tried again. "If not you can always talk to me."

"Why would you want to listen?" Elijah asked neutrally.

"Why not? I’m a friend and you don’t have to prove anything to me."

Elijah put his feet up on the coffee table, baggy black socks catching on the edge, and looked at Orli. "Okay, as a friend it works both ways, you talk to me."

"What do you want to know?" Orli eyed him doubtfully.

"Tell me about Shane."

Orli’s suspicion grew. What game was Elijah playing this time? "Why?" he asked flatly.

Elijah looked at him, his face open and apparently without deception. "Because he’s obviously important to you and I’m… curious."

Orli reached for the remote control and flicked off the television before putting his feet up next to Elijah’s. He took a handful of crisps, munching through them slowly before answering. "There’s not a lot to tell really. He was my boyfriend and he’s gone now."

"A mate you fucked or a proper boyfriend? You know, the whole hearts and flowers thing."

"Oh proper boyfriend," Orli said with feeling. "I loved him…I can’t explain it with crappy words but I really loved him."

"How long were you together?"

"Almost four years."

"Wow," Elijah said, genuinely impressed. "You must have been really young. You’re only, what, twenty six now?"

"Yep," Orli nodded. "Twenty when we got together."

"That’s pretty good going these days, what happened to him?"

There was a long silence whilst Orli twisted the Pringles box round and round in his hands before suddenly thrusting it at Elijah. "We were going out after work, stupid bugger was running late as usual. He ran across the road, waving at me, and a motorbike dispatch rider hit him. He practically did a double back somersault before he hit the ground again." His voice was calm but his eyes were fixed on the picture across the room and his fingers now pulled obsessively at a broken thread on his artfully torn jeans.

"Christ, I’m sorry mate. That’s awful. Was he dead straight away?"

"Nah, doing the easy thing was never Shane’s way. I sat with him in the ambulance while they tried to save him, hours in bloody casualty and almost three days in intensive care before he surrendered to the inevitable and died. I never left his side except to pee."

"That must have been terrible for you," Elijah said quietly.

"I’ve had better days," Orli tried for a rueful smile. "But I must admit it’s put me off hospitals."

"And yet you came with me."

Orli shrugged, "I guess life has to move on."

"And have you? Moved on I mean."

"Dunno, things have certainly changed. I couldn’t handle it at first, all that tea and sympathy and the flat being so... quiet." He rested his head back, closing his eyes, and ran a distracted hand through his hair. "I went to stay with my mum for a bit, but after a couple of months I couldn’t stand that either so I came back here and… moped."

"What happened?"

"In the end mum got cross with me, told me to get on with my life. She was right, I knew she was, but I just didn’t feel the same. Anyway I had to find a job as money was getting tight."

"Weren’t you working before?"

"Before? Before I had my dream job, I was general dogsbody at a second division football club. I ordered supplies, banked the money, hired out the conference room, shit I even cleaned the toilets if there was no one else to do it. But I loved that job. Shane and I would watch every match, but it was more than that, we loved the smell of the place, the atmosphere. I couldn’t go back after he died. I can’t even watch football on the telly anymore. That’s what a lovesick fucking fool I am," Orli shook his head, laughing at himself. "I can’t even watch my favourite game because Shane isn’t here to watch it with me."

"I’m so sorry Orlando," Elijah gently.

It was quiet for a long moment until Elijah suddenly realised he had never bothered to ask what Orli did now. He’d watched him go to work and come home again for nearly a week but never once had it occurred to think what he did. "What job did you get?"

"Oh something nice and quiet where I don’t have to talk to anyone. I look after the library at the Political Studies Association, it suits me down to the ground and I rather like all the books."

"You like that kinda stuff? Politics and all that?"

"Yeah, I guess I do. I didn’t really realise it before but I like to read, get lost in a different world."

Elijah smiled to himself. "I thought I was the only one."

"What?"

"That likes books, likes to read. It’s not something you drop into the conversation down the pub."

"I never did ask," Orli said looking round at Elijah. "What are you studying?"

Elijah squirmed a bit in his chair and looked away. "You’ll laugh…" he said. But then he looked over: maybe he wouldn’t. He offered Orli a Pringle. "My mum gave me hell about it, said it was a waste of time, and she’s probably right, but it’s what I really wanted to do."

The pause seemed to go on forever until Orli couldn’t take it anymore. He took a crisp and pushed. "So? What is it?"

"I’m doing History, my specialism is Chartism."

"What, the political movement at the beginning of the Industrial revolution?"

"Yeah. You’re the first person I’ve told that’s actually known what it is." Elijah couldn’t keep the pleased expression off his face.

"Well there you go, we’re both bookish nerds."

Again it was quiet but this time it was easy and comfortable. Elijah rested his head back next to Orli’s and they stared at the blank TV screen, neither wanting to move or put it on, the almost empty box passed silently back and forth.

It was Elijah who eventually broke the silence. "Was Shane your first?"

"Depends what you mean by first?" Orli said, flicking crumbs off his chest.

"The first person you slept with."

"God no," Orli snorted. "I’m a starry-eyed, lovesick idiot but I’m not that bad. I did the normal gay bloke thing when I first came out, slept around a bit, but it never felt… I dunno, right. I didn’t realise what I wanted at first, what was missing, but then I met Shane and," he smiled to himself at the memory. "It all fell into place. He was the first person I really wanted and not just for sex, although that was amazing. I wanted him, wanted to be with him, wanted to stay with him."

"So what’s happened since?"

"What do you mean?" Orli cocked an eyebrow.

"Have you met anyone else?"

"No," the single word was long and heartfelt.

"No sex then?"

Orli sighed and rubbed at his face. "I tried, about six months after he died. I slept around a bit but… it isn’t what I want." He grinned at Elijah. "Now I just wank. A lot," he said with feeling.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of hand action," Elijah grinned back. "But a guy can’t live on that alone and… you have to try."

"Oh, I do occasionally. I go out and meet someone, try and see if there’s any connection before the sex, see if the sex is any good," he smiled ruefully. "But there’s never anything there. It’s not what I want."

"What do you want?"

"Honestly?" he glanced over. "I want Shane but I’m not stupid enough to think I’ll get that again. Anyway I don’t think I’m capable of falling like that twice, no one is, and I don’t really want to. I want to stay in love with Shane but… But it’s also been long enough since he died for me to know I can’t sit around wanking for the rest of my life."

"You still miss him as much?"

Orli let out a long extended breath. "The first year was the worst, everything was awful and… it hurt. Now I guess it’s not as bad but, yeah, I still miss him, still think about him all the time."

"At least you have the good times to remember," Elijah said quietly. He took the last couple of crisps from the box and looked at them for a moment before giving them to Orli.

"What about you?" Orli asked, licking the salt off his fingers. "Any serious boyfriends or girlfriends?"

Elijah’s face darkened. "No boyfriends or girlfriends at all. I told you, I’m not very good at friends."

"So lots of sex but not with anyone you care about?"

His face closed up tight. "Something like that."

"Is that what you want?"

Elijah heaved a sigh. "It doesn’t matter what I want, that’s how things are."

"It doesn’t have to be, you could meet some nice bloke or maybe even a girl. Get married, have a family?"

"Orli… don’t," Elijah’s eyes flicked over and then away. He looked world-weary as he threw the empty box in the vague direction of the coffee table. "Don’t try and feed me some fantasy when reality is so shit at the moment I can only just cope. I can’t take that. Let me get through next week as best I can."

Orli relented. "Do you understand what the doctor is going to do?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, I think so," Elijah flopped further back onto the sofa, rubbing at his face. "At first I thought they’d cut half my scrotum off as well. Fuck knows why, but I’m really relieved that it’ll still be there."

"Are you scared?" Orli asked.

Elijah gave an unenthusiastic smile and looked up at the ceiling. "I’m absolutely terrified." He shrugged his shoulders. "But I’ll survive."

"Don’t just sit and think about it, you need to do something to occupy your mind. I’m going to my mum and dad’s for lunch tomorrow. Come with me."

Elijah shook his head. "Thanks but no thanks. Your mum tries, but she isn’t very keen on me."

"I’m sure that’s not true," Orli tried to protest but Elijah wouldn’t let him.

"Oh it is. She tries to hide it but it’s there."

"She won’t mind you coming, especially when she knows what’s happening."

"No," Elijah was adamant. "I don’t want to see her pity or her trying to be nice."

"Well, you can’t just sit in here all day."

"I’ll go to the cinema. I like going on my own, that way I can go from one film to another. I can spend all day in the dark getting lost in different worlds. I do it all the time."

"Are you sure?" Orli asked. "I could come with you."

"No, you go play happily families. I’ll be all right on my own," he smiled over at Orli. "I always have been."


+


Sunday evening and Elijah was making himself something to eat when Orli came in. Orli shook his head when offered some, but still managed to pick at Elijah’s as they chatted about the films Elijah had seen.

Orli waited for the subject to change to the following day but it never did. Elijah seemed to want to keep things light, to push the important things to one side, but there was stuff to be sorted. "Are you all ready for the hospital?" Orli asked.

"Think so," Elijah said casually. "I don’t need much, I should only be in for one night. I’ll just take my wash things and a book." And then he promptly changed the subject again.

And so Orli waited some more. He had given Elijah the opening but it looked as if he wasn’t going to ask.

That’s how they went on for the rest of the evening, skating over and around, never quite talking, never quite asking. Orli tried one last time before going to bed. He poked his head round the living room door, asked Elijah if there was anything he needed and was met with a casual shake of the head. He shrugged his shoulders and went to bed.

Next morning Elijah wasn’t up when Orli was ready to leave for work. Hand on the latch he hesitated, then went back and softly knocked on Elijah’s door before going in.

Elijah was laying on his side, hair messy, face taut, wide awake.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Orli asked simply.

"You don’t have to, I can do it on my own," Elijah lied.

"I’ll meet you here at one," Orli said, then turned and left.

Elijah’s ‘thank you’ was said to empty air.


+


Straight onto a ward this time, no waiting around in corridors to see doctors. This time the hospital meant business. On the journey in Elijah had talked non-stop; rivers of nonsense bursting out whenever his mouth wasn’t occupied by endless cigarettes. Orli realised Elijah had barely smoked in the last few days but now a new one was lit before the old had gone out.

And Elijah twitched. Fidgeting at the bus stop, twisting round and changing seats on the bus, bouncing on the balls of his feet as the nurse showed them to his bed before, pulling the curtain round, asking him to get changed into a hospital gown.

When the nurse left Orli quietly followed her back to the desk. He asked if his name could be added to Elijah’s records as a contact in case of emergencies. The nurse wrote down the details and then asked if he was Elijah’s next of kin. Orli hesitated. Elijah had his mother, but she wasn’t here and from what Elijah had said she wasn’t interested anyway.

Orli nodded and then it was official; his name was added in the appropriate box.

He went back to the curtained alcove at the end of the ward and slipped in. "You want any magazines or anything…" he started to ask but then stopped dead in his tracks.

Elijah was standing naked by the side of the bed, the gown in his hand, his clothes in a heap, eyes huge, all his fear clear on his face.

One mass of contradictions.

An ocean of pale, fine skin made the contrast of the dark hair on his head starker, almost shocking. The sharp bones of his shoulders and hips not quite matching the rounded flesh on his belly. The deeper hue of his lifeless cock hanging from his body, a sharp distinction against the surprisingly ample curled pubic hair.

He looked lost and lonely.

He stared at Orli, not asking for anything but… The defiance and aggressive confidence of someone who had always had to fight on their own at odds with the tremble in his fingers as he twisted and pulled at the gown in his hand. Such a clear effort to try and hide the fear behind a mask.

Without thought, Orli crossed the space between them and pulled Elijah into a tight hug. One hand went round Elijah’s shoulders, the other up to his head, tucking it into the crook of Orli’s neck.

For a long moment Elijah was still, his body held taut and unyielding, his hands squashed between their bodies in front of him as he clutched at the gown. Then slowly, so slowly, he began to go slack, leaning into Orli’s body as his spine curved and his knees unlocked.

Orli’s arms gripped tighter, his chin rubbing over and over against the hair on the side of Elijah’s head. "I’ve got you," Orli murmured and then was still.

The gown fell away as Elijah’s fingers began to tangle in the front of Orli’s shirt, gripping at the buttons, pulling at the seam. Orli held firm as Elijah began to tremble, small shudders running the length of his spine, each one more powerful than the last.

And then they stopped. Orli didn’t move as he felt Elijah gather his strength and get himself under control. Eventually he pulled back slightly, shy eyes looking up at Orli through thick lashes. Orli could see the apology starting to form on his lips.

"My god look at you," he laughed, rubbing at a mark on Elijah’s shoulder. "You’ve got the imprints from my button all over you. You look like some kind of demented leopard."

Elijah glanced down at the line of round red blotches on his chest and smiled ruefully. "I’ve never seen a red-spotted leopard. Maybe I’m be some weird, exotic animal?"

"Oh you’re weird all right," Orli said picking up the gown and holding it open for Elijah to slip into. "Now cover yourself up before we get puddles of bodily fluids all over the floor from everyone who sees you."

"Puddles of bodily fluids?" Elijah twisted round to smile as Orli did up the ties on the back of the gown. "And you say I’m weird."

"What else do you want me to call it? Cum and… lady goo?"

Elijah’s snort of laughter took him so by surprise that he almost choked, his hand going to his mouth to catch cough after cough. Orli patted him helpfully on the back. Hard. "Lady goo. Oh that’s priceless," Elijah managed to say as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Glad you approve," Orli said, his smile slowly softening. "You all right now?" Elijah nodded simply and they both knew Orli didn’t mean the coughing.


+


The nurse came back and threw open the curtains with a flourish. She inserted a small shunt into the back of Elijah’s hand, filled endless bottles with his blood and organised a porter to take him in a wheelchair for more ‘baseline tests.’

When Orli got in her way for the third time she looked at him, hands on hips, with narrowed eyes and asked if he didn’t have some other place to be. He was all ready to argue when Elijah touched his arm and smiled. "It’s okay," his voice dropped lower. "I’m okay now. You heard what the nice lady said, I’m going for loads more tests so you might as well go."

"You sure?"

Elijah nodded. "Go to work. It’s only two stops on the underground from here and you’ve had so much time off already."

"I don’t care about that," Orli protested. "If you need me here I’ll…"

"I don’t need you," Elijah smiled again. "Not now."

Orli picked up his jacket and began to walk away. He’d only gone a few steps when he twisted back on his heels. "I’ll work late and then call in on my way home."

Elijah tried to protest but Orli had already gone.


+


When Orli arrived back at the hospital much later that evening, Elijah was sitting crossed legged on the bed dressed in the old t-shirt and joggers he habitually wore to bed, his ear phones firmly in place. Orli had at least expected a smile of acknowledgement, instead he got an irritated face and a lecture on how it was unfair to come in smelling of fast food when he, Elijah, wasn’t allowed to eat anything.

Orli shut him up by dragging him to the patient’s room to watch TV and make up ridiculous background histories for the other patients. He even managed to get Elijah to laugh at one particularly long winded story about how a man in a wheel chair had once been a member of a Morris dancing spy ring. Elijah had joined in the game, saying how the secret formula was hidden in the bells the dancers wore around their ankles.

At around ten a nurse appeared and asked Elijah if he would like something to help him sleep. With one look at Elijah’s uncertain face Orli said very firmly that he would and the nurse handed over two small white pills.

Back on the ward the lights had been dimmed and a lot of the other patients were already asleep. Orli sat in the chair while Elijah climbed into bed. "Anything else you need before I go?" Orli asked.

"Nah, I’ve got everything."

"All right, I’ll see you tomorrow then," Orli pulled himself to his feet.

"Orlando," Elijah’s hand was on his arm. "You don’t have to."

Orli’s eyes were firm. "I know I don’t have to. I wouldn’t do it if I had to." A small smile crept across his face. "They won’t let anyone visit before surgery and you’re first on the list, so I’ll see you in the evening when you should be a bit more awake."

He smiled one more time. "Good luck."

This time as he walked away it was Elijah’s voice that called him back. "Hey, thanks," he faltered and then went on. "And er, thanks for, you know… earlier."

Orli just nodded.


+


Orli really didn’t have any idea what to expect when he got up to the ward the following evening. He’d rung the hospital that morning and was told the operation had gone well and that Elijah was asleep. He’d been asleep again when Orli had rung for a second time in the late afternoon, but the nurse said that as soon as he was awake this time they would be getting him up and taking him for a walk.

The curtain was pulled partially round the side of the bed and for a moment Orli worried in case there was anything wrong. When he pulled it aside he saw Elijah sitting in the high backed chair, head resting on one wing, an open book resting, unread in his lap. He looked deathly pale, with dark blue smudges of ugly colour around his eyes, but not ill exactly. More tired than anything else.

"Hiya, how you doing?"

Elijah looked up, his face brightening while not actually managing a smile. "Not so bad, I’d be even better if they wouldn’t keep making me walk."

"It’s good for you," Orli said pulling up a chair. "Makes it all heal quicker. That’s what the doctor said anyway."

"Doesn’t stop me feeling sick though," Elijah pulled a face. "That anaesthetic is worse than ten pints."

"You couldn’t drink ten pints without falling over if your life depended on it," Orli handed over the chocolate bars he’d bought at the gift shop downstairs. "They said the operation went all right. You in a lot of pain?"

Elijah shook his head. "I’ve had a ton of pain killers."

"Have you… had a look yet?"

"Not yet. They’ve got me pissing through this tube," He pulled on a plastic pipe running into a urine filled bag hanging from a stand by his feet, the other end disappearing ominously under his hospital gown. Orli tried hard not to wince.

"And anyway," Elijah puffed out a breath, moving his legs apart gingerly as he looked down at his groin. "Not sure if I want to see it yet."

"Then don’t," Orli said with feeling. "Leave it until you’re ready. It’ll give the swelling a chance to go down. To look more… normal."

"Normal?" Elijah’s eyebrow went up. "I have one ball Orli, how normal am I ever gonna be?"

Orli stared him down. "As normal as you want I guess."

Elijah knew it was a fight he wasn’t going to win. He slumped back further into the chair.

"Tired?" Orli asked.

"A bit, but I’m not ready to go back to sleep yet."

"So what happens now?"

"Well, they said if everything’s okay and I can pee properly I can get out of here tomorrow evening. Then I guess I wait for the pathology results."

"I read somewhere that’s one of the worst things about cancer treatment, the waiting," Orli said.

"Where’d you read that?" Elijah looked at him sideways. "On the net? Have you been looking stuff up?"

For some reason Orli couldn’t quite work out, he almost blushed as he nodded.


+


They had been right; Elijah did leave the hospital the following evening. Orli had a cab waiting at the door as Elijah cautiously made his way out of the hospital, his big baggy sweatpants flapping around his thighs, an appointment card crushed tightly in his hand.

The lab results would take a few days to come through and his meeting with the doctor to discuss what to do next had been made for a week Friday. Now all they could do was wait. It proved to be as hard as Orli had read.

For the first few days the only things Elijah wanted to do were sleep, take his painkillers and move warily from sofa to chair to bed. He didn’t seem to even want to wash. The familiar, antiseptic hospital smell that clung to him was being overlaid with something else.

After two days at home Orli ran a bath and suggested in no uncertain terms that Elijah get in it. At first he was more than a little reluctant, coming up with excuse after excuse as to why it wasn’t a good idea, but as Orli had paid more attention to the advice given at the hospital, every reason was shot down.

Elijah stood at the end of the hall, head down, sulky face firmly in place, as Orli held the bathroom door open.

Eventually he bowed to the inevitable and went in.

Ten minutes later Orli knocked gently on the door and asked if everything was all right. When there was no answer he knocked again a little harder and the door opened under the pressure. Elijah was sitting on the lowered toilet seat, clothes still firmly in place, an anxious expression on his face, chewing at a bleeding finger.

"Elijah, if you really don’t want a bath then leave it," Orli said compassionately. "But it might make you feel better. Would you rather have a shower?"

"I," he rubbed the gnawed finger on his sweatpants leaving a small trail of blood. "It’s not that."

"Then what?"

Elijah lifted his head, his expression unreadable. "I haven’t really looked at myself yet."

"But… how come?" now Orli was confused. "You’ve peed enough times, you must have seen yourself."

A faint tinge of embarrassment flared on Elijah’s cheeks. "I just kinda… get it out and… don’t look," he smiled apologetically. "My hand seems know what to do."

"Idiot," Orli said, and the warmth was clear in his voice. "Well, I guess now is as good a time as any. Come on, get up and look. I’ll be just outside the door."

"No," Elijah said louder and more desperately than he’d intended. He made a real effort to tone his voice down. "Don’t go. Stay and… tell me I don’t look so bad. Even if I do."

"Okay." Orli pulled Elijah up, a hand tucked into his armpit, then turned him to face the mirror. "Go on, look."

Elijah slipped off the sweat pants, hooked up his t-shirt, then, slowly, carefully he pulled down the front of his baggy boxers till they rested just above his knees. For a long moment he was still as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, then he began to turn this way and that, checking the view each angle gave him. His hand went down first pulling his skin tight across his hip and then lower to cup his scrotum.

"Well," Orli asked eventually. "What do you think?"

"I don’t know. I don’t think it’s as bad as I imagined," he looked at Orli in the mirror, a faint grin forming at the corners of his mouth. "But it’s pretty hard to be objective and I don’t get the greatest view from here."

"You still want me to look?"

Elijah twisted his head to look over his shoulder. "Do you mind?"

"Nah, come on. Let me see," Orli said all business like, as he perched on the edge of the bath.

Elijah turned round, any movement awkward with his boxers still round his thighs, and shuffled forward.

Orli looked. Carefully. First at the incision nestling in the crease between Elijah’s thigh and his body. "This is healing nicely, in time I reckon it will fade to a clean line and you’ll hardly notice it."

"What about the rest?" Elijah asked, the t-shirt caught under his chin as he tried to see what Orli could see.

Orli looked lower. Elijah’s cock lay soft against his body, surprisingly thick compared to his frame, the wrinkled skin not much darker than the rest of him. Below hung his scrotum, the soft creased skin lined and warm. On one side the outline of the testicle inside it could be clearly seen, on the other the skin was flattened and empty.

It looked… unusual, maybe even odd, but not unsightly or repellent.

"It’s not so bad, gives you character," he smiled up at Elijah. "I’ve seen a lot worse."

"Get outta here," Elijah batted him across the top of his head, pleased with Orli’s reaction. "When did you last see a naked man?"

"I resent that," Orli laughed. "I’ll have you know that, as a self respecting gay man, I’ve seen fair few. All right so I haven’t actually touched one for a while but I go to clubs and I have my stash of porn."

"You never told me about that," Elijah said, pulling off the last of his clothes and getting in the bath.

"A man never shares his porn," Orli said, hand on his chest, trying hard not to notice the needle bruises on Elijah’s arms and hand. "You might make it… sticky."

Elijah chuckled, leaning back. "The water’s gone cold and… thanks Orlando."

Orli reached for the hot tap. "You’re welcome."

Part Four