Love is Blind Chapter 28

[happy_never_after]

Ennis hated drivin' by, but had ta be done. Linden pointed out it wouldn't be smart to park the truck in front of the body shop and told him the used car lot across the street was perfect. They all agree that lot was the best place.

Ennis crossed the street with his hands in his pockets, grinnin' at Benito. The old guy looked great. Seeing him made Ennis feel like a kid. Benito mussed his hair, kissed his cheek, and made Ennis blush to his toes as the old vet clasped Ennis to his chest. Jack came up behind joinin' in for a three-way hug, and it felt damn good. Benito held a big piece of Ennis' heart, and Ennis swore he'd never take a loved one fer granted ever again. He'd make damn sure the vet was in his life until one of 'em stopped breathin'.

Ennis' gaze rested on the man with the oh-so-familiar face. That strong square chin, bright white smile and warm dark eyes that were shaped with the wisdom of Sister Sarita.

Ennis slapped his hand into Jorge's, givin' two strong shakes. "Nice ta finally meet ya," Ennis said. "I reckon you're Jorge."

"You're right there. And you're Ennis. And this is Jack." Jorge looked over at Linden. "And who's this?"

Jack and Ennis parted, and there Linden stood between them, shufflin' his feet and noddin' in Ennis' direction. Them damned eyes drooped wide and bashful like some shy puppy's. Ennis hated that Linden was flustered around him, but hated it more that Linden flustered him. And all that arguin'-- damned if Ennis understood why he kept pickin' at Linden.

Ennis observed Jorge's careful assessment and then Sarita's brother saw Nina and a big-toothed grin sprang to his face-- Ennis laughed. Frantic ta scratch an itch, Nina used Jack's leg like some scratchin' post, rubbin' her right side up, down and around. Jack wasn't minding at all-- he even helped her by leanin' in.

Ennis' heart skipped. Jack smiled so easy, could drink in that man forever, way he swaggered all sure and easy. 

"This here is private eye Wesley Linden," Jack spoke, noddin' to Linden. "This here is Benito and Jorge."

Jorge's dark eyes focused on the private detective, movin' over Linden's face, chest, arms like he was inspectin' a paint job on a car. Eye fixed on the sleeve of Linden's blood-soaked shirt. Linden fidgeted like he had the habit of doin', then the PI flashed Jorge one of them gap-toothed grins and shook Jorge's hand with his good arm. Turned to Benito and did the same.

Way Linden's lips tightened, Ennis reckoned his arm pained him something fierce. Benito noticed too and brushed Linden's shoulder, then he spoke, concern in his voice, "Think we should go inside and have a look at your arm, son."

"Sure thing," Linden whispered as he stepped forward.

Ennis took Jack's hand, steps equal like their minds was together; Ennis found that he barely needed to guide Jack through the auto graveyard. Nina scampered in and out of the cars without a care.

Jorge unlocked the padlock on the chained door.

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Linden liked Benito right off. He had a bounce and zest to him. He sparked right up watching Nina and then the way he'd hugged Ennis made Linden all warm and mushy like watching Ward and the Beaver. He was glad introductions were fast though-- the bullet set off bright sparks of pain with each slight movement and throbbed even when he was still. He didn't mean to be such a wuss when it came to pain, but he'd always been this way, even as a kid with just a scraped knee. He was never good at ignoring his ailments or anxieties.

Everything after that was pretty much a blur as Jorge opened the door, and Benito hustled him into the garage. His eyes adjusted after a moment. The garage was dark, but enough light filtered in from the front windows to see. But instead Linden watched his feet as he walked, a bad habit he still carried from childhood. He shook his foot, but no luck getting' it off-- wadded-up masking tape stuck to his shoe-- the stuff was everywhere in strips and balls on the floor. Jorge bent down and ripped it off for him. Linden blinked; his eyes fixed big in fascination. What is wrong with me? he thought. First ogling Ennis' ass, now this guy's.

I need to get laid.

Jorge flipped on the lights, and Linden's trance broke.

He looked up and away, wishing he hadn't-- at least Jorge's ass was stimulating and kept his mind off the abomination that was this place. Memories of auto shop plagued him, and this place was like the old nightmare. Paint covered everything-- testing nozzles filled with metallic colors. Smell of spray paint and grease. Every surface, layer upon layer covered, forming surreal blotches. Then there was a huge floor-to-ceiling fan sucking air out of the building-- huge blades whirling-- like out of some bad sci-fi movie. The only things in its place were the tools, and mallets, screw drivers, ratchets, and wrenches: big wrenches, little wrenches, and a three foot monster wrench.

Linden stripped to his t-shirt and waited for some smart-ass comment about his physique and was nonplussed when none came. He checked out the less than sanitary conditions. At least Benito washed his hands in the sink, even though it was coated with congealed paint and Bondo. And he did use soap even if it was that crap sandpaper soap called Lava.

Benito looked at the wound, pressing around the edges with his finger.

"I'm going to give you a local anesthetic to numb it before I go digging around to get it out," the doc said. "It looks pretty clean to me. I'll give you an antibiotic to ward off possible infection. You'll need to change the bandage for the first day or so."

Linden nodded as he watched the doc turn to get what he needed out of his bag. Big Black Bag. Just like those old-time doctors on TV. He lined the instruments out just like soldiers. First Benito took the scissors and carefully cut away Linden's shirt. Linden held his breath and remained very, very still.

As Benito swabbed gently around the wound, Linden worried that the body shop wasn't sterile.

He didn't look as Benito stuck the needle in his arm because he worried that he'd start crying like a baby.

He felt a pinch. Then another, then another. That wasn't that bad, but he still couldn't stop obsessing on the grease and dirt that coated every last crack and groove of the shop. What if he contracted some rare infection?

Benito finished swabbing, and Linden had no inclination to look when the doc asked, "Do you feel this?"

"Yes," he squeaked back. Damn, he thought. Look at Ennis. He thinks I'm a chicken. Act tough.

"This?"

"No." 

Fuck, he thought, I shouldn't have lied. Now he's going to cut into me.

"Maybe we should wait a few more minutes-- to make perfectly sure," Benito suggested.

He liked that vet more and more with every minute--

Linden waited. Benito prepared.

No, no-- the scalpel and tongs won't feel like a hook and ladder. No, no--

Then he looked. Dark dreamy eyes.

Not Ennis. Not Ennis.

Jorge. Darker dreamy eyes. Yeah. Wait-- no-- don't look. Straight man! Straight man! Look down, no-- look up-no look down-- ah, fuck. Big muscle… I mean muscles. Not good-stop it. Don't look at the ass-- don't look at the ass. Oh god, he noticed, he noticed me checking his ass.

"I got it. It's out."

"What?"

"The bullet," Benito said. "Now I'll suture and bandage you right up then you boys can get to your hideout. I hate holding you here too long."

Linden kept his eyes on Benito. He decided that was the safest option. His arm didn't hurt, but his pride did. The old guy had Linden sewn up and bandaged lickity-split and handed him some pain killers and antibiotics.

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Ennis liked the place the doc found for them in Zapata County. House was nothin’ fancy-- a slab home on a lonesome road with no neighbors. House had only a couple of rooms. Wide open kitchen and livin’ area all in one with rafters openin' up to the loft above where the one bedroom was. Was out in nowhere land, where the sun set on big sky. Linden didn't appreciate the view none. First thing he asked was about comfort, how many beds, was there a TV or one of them new-fangled microwaves. That was the problem with them city folk-- too many comforts. Ennis was happy with a campfire and a sleeping bag. And if he was really desperate for entertainment, a harmonica played by Jack Twist. Wasn’t long ago he’d a done anything ta hear him play.

“Guess I’m taking the sofa,” Linden said, givin’ Ennis then Jack a quick look as they both sat down on it. “For the night, I mean. And I sure hope voices don't carry.”

Jack bit back a laugh. “Well don’t go strainin' yer ears-- never know what ya might hear.”

“Jack, will ya stop?” All Ennis needed was fer Jack ta be encouragin' him. Damn.

Linden was doin' his usual investigation of the premises. "Looks like your friends stocked it with food," he said, openin' the fridge then checkin' out the cupboards. "Don't know about you two, but I'm starved. Either of you two like to cook?"

"Well, Ennis here ain't bad at warmin' up beans," Jack laughed.

"Jack ain't much better. He does fine with breakfast on a campfire though."

"I guess you two won't mind if I cook then," Linden said, perkin' up. "Looks like I could make spaghetti pretty fast. You like spaghetti?"

"Sounds good," Jack said, and Ennis nodded, agreein'. 

Pots and pans banged. 

"Need help?" Jack asked. "With yer arm that way, might be good ta have a hand." Ennis frowned as Jack poked him, coaxin' him ta help Linden.

"I guess," Linden said, lookin' at Ennis all unsure.

"I'll help." Ennis got up slow off the couch and wandered next to Linden.

"I'll need a large pot for the pasta, a small frying pan and a good-sized pot for the sauce. And a colander too." 

Ennis nodded, and dug through the pans, findin' what Linden needed.

"A cookie sheet for the garlic bread would be nice too."

Ennis set all the pots and pans out for Linden while the PI got what he needed out of the fridge and cupboards.

Ennis filled the pan with water and turned on the stove, gettin' a grin from Linden.

"Thanks," he said. "I think I can handle the rest from here."

"I don't mind helpin'. Know yer arm ain't painin' ya none right now, but I imagine gettin' shot takes it outta of ya."

"I imagine."

"Sure you're fine?" Ennis asked.

"I'm dandy," Linden said. "You could cut up the mushrooms."

Ennis nodded. Could do that. 

Linden had the sauce started while he got the bread ready. 

"I liked the vet friend of yours, Benito. You're fortunate-- friends like him are pretty rare." 

Ennis looked over in Jack's direction. Alls he saw was the back of his head along with the back of the old couch. "I think so too," Ennis said, scrappin' the mushrooms into the fryin' pan with the back of the knife.

"Can't say as I've had many close friends," Linden said. "Karen's about the closest I have to a best friend out here. Never had many good friends out east."

"Never had many good friends myself," Ennis admitted, watchin' Linden sauté the mushrooms. "But I always had Jack. He's been my best friend fer twenty years." Ennis looked over at his best friend, his lover. Jack turned his head and smiled at Ennis. Was amazin'. Must a felt Ennis watchin' him-- or nosy bastard was listenin'. Sometimes the way Jack felt  and heard things it was almost spooky. Him and those super sensitive ears. Damn he loved that nosy bastard. 

Reckoned Nina was either sprawled on the couch next to him or on the floor near his feet 'cause she weren't nowhere in sight. 

"That's what Jack told me." Linden stirred the sauce. "Twenty years is a long time."

Both stood next ta each other by the stove as Linden worked. Ennis shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

"Guess you can sit down with Jack-- thanks for the help."

Ennis nodded, then wandered out to Jack. Moved Nina over and got cozy next ta him. First time in days Ennis felt safe. Jack kissed his head and reached around him, pullin' him closer. Ennis felt the inevitable stirrin below. Jack put his hand there and squeezed. Ennis didn't push him away. He was glad the couch was facin' the other way. Leaned over and whispered in Jack's ear, "Later, Rodeo I'll give ya all this. Ya like that?"

Jack groaned quietly back in his ear. "I sure would, Cowboy." Jack rubbed his cock harder. "Like makin' out on the couch with the parents in the other room," Jack whispered, toyin' with Ennis' zipper. 

"Ah, yeah, but don't want ta git caught."

"That's what makes it so excitin'," Jack murmured. He took his hand away from the zipper, graspin' Ennis hard through his jeans instead. 

"I ain't gonna be able ta stand up ta eat if you don't stop," Ennis moaned.

Jack laughed softly and took his hand away. He rested his head on Ennis' shoulder until it was time to eat.

Dinner was good. Linden made for a good cook. Ennis had ta admit it was a hell of a lot better than Chef Boyardee. Had two helpings. Noticed Linden lookin' at them both strange, like he knew what he and Jack was up to on the couch. Didn't do much talkin', just feedin' their faces. Jack offered ta help with the dishes, so Ennis told Linden they'd handle them and fer him to settle down and rest. 

Linden found some blankets and a pillow. After finishin' the dishes, they found Linden asleep on the couch with Nina curled up at his feet. Jack gave Ennis a wicked little smile, and they was off ta check the accommodations.

Jack had no problem climbin' the ladder to the loft. 

"If we're gonna do this with him in the other room we gotta fuck like mice," Ennis whispered, behind em.

"But their dicks are little." Jack took Ennis' arm.

 "I mean quiet like a mouse." They walked over to the bed. Was a small bedroom, but neat.

"Oh," Jack whispered, pullin' the quilt on the bed back. "I got ya. I was just kiddin'. Why you all serious?"

"Cause I'm always serious when I'm about ta fuck you silly," he said as he stripped off his jeans.

"Now yer makin' jokes."

Jack flung his clothes off and climbed under the covers, and Ennis followed. Jack planted a hot wet kiss on Ennis' mouth.

"Sh-h-h-h!" Ennis hissed.

"What? You think he's Superman?" Jack whispered. "Queer superhero hears homos suckin' face from forty feet."

"Shut up and suck my dick."

"Love ta."

Jack did. Kissed a trail all the way there. Made special lip-smackin' sounds just ta piss Ennis off, too.

"Think he can hear that?" Jack asked.

"He ain't gonna hear nothin' if you wrap that mouth around where it should be, friend."

Ennis groaned into his pillow as Jack did exactly what Ennis suggested.

Make him come so hard, he screamed into the pillow.

Now was Jack's turn.

Ennis took Jack down his throat. Never tasted anything like Jack Twist after a spaghetti dinner. Ennis reckoned it must have been that garlic toast.

He kept havin' ta whisper, "Shut up, Jack." Finally stopped and threw the damn pillow at him. Had ta stop and look at the man. Was all flushed. Loved that look of desperation in Jack's face. 

"What?" Jack asked.

"Told ya ta be quiet like a mouse. If ya don't listen ta me, I ain't gonna let you come."

"I'll stuff the pillow in my mouth, just fuckin' do it."

Ennis went back down on him. Jack kicked and squirmed. Never had ta wonder if he was doin' right by him during love-makin'. Man was always so demonstrative. Could tell he was about to shoot because his legs got taunt and still like when yer gettin' ready ta pull the trigger. Then he went off-- thrashed around on the bed like holy hell. Loved that Jack Twist--

Best dessert he ever had.

TBC