Page 12 of Everything Changes

Jase put down his burger and looked at Carey steadily. “No beer, Carey. It’s not safe for you—”

“Fine, you fucking prick, I’ll get it myself!” Carey childishly flung his plate of food to the floor, the ceramic plate shattering, food flying everywhere. He grabbed for his crutches and pulled himself up, the abused muscles in his support leg protesting, cramping painfully, causing him to fall back on the couch. He repeatedly tried to get up with the same result, finally throwing his crutches across the room with a clatter and burying his face in his hands.

After a silent minute, he heard Jase move from his chair, and when Carey opened his eyes, he was kneeling silently on the floor cleaning up the mess. He didn’t say a word of admonishment, didn’t rail against Carey, didn’t give him the decking Carey so richly deserved.

“Jase,” he finally said thickly. “Why didn’t you let me die? Out there? You should have just let me die.”

Jase bowed his head, and Carey realized with sudden horror that was the worst thing he could have possibly said to his friend, this man who had worked feverishly to save him after his injury, who had done things Carey would never understand fully, things to force Carey to live. Shame flooded through him, and he choked up.

“I’m sorry, Jase, I didn’t mean that. Oh Christ, I didn’t mean that.”

He heard Jase get up from the floor and come sit beside him on the couch, felt Jase put his arm around his shoulders and pull him close. Carey held himself stiff for a few seconds before giving in to his need for comfort, his selfish desire to have his pain taken away when he’d just inflicted so much of it on Jase.

“I’m just so useless, man, so fucking useless. I can’t do anything for myself. I’m a burden on everyone. God, it sucks.” And wasn’t that the understatement of the motherfucking year.

Carey felt Jase kiss the top of his head, his arm tightening in sympathy.

“Everybody keeps telling me just to be grateful I’m alive. And I guess I am, but goddamn it, Jase, I miss the way I used to be. I miss being strong and being able to take care of myself. I miss being able to drive a car to the fucking grocery store. Hell, I’d even be glad to get off this stupid-ass couch without you having to fucking help me!” Carey took a shuddering breath.

“I’m worthless, Jase.”

And that was it, the crux of the problem, Carey’s deepest fear. He was worthless, a burden on the system like he’d been most of his life, passed around, unwanted. The Marines had given him an identity, a way to feel worthy, serving his country during the War on Terror and helping to kick some insurgent ass. Now that was gone and he’d never get it back. He had nothing.

Jase pulled back, gripping Carey’s chin and forcing it around, making Carey meet his eyes.

“You’re worth something to me.”

Carey closed his eyes, a single tear squeezing out and tracking down his cheek. He felt Jase wipe it away with his thumb.

“And I wanted you to live because I didn’t want to see what it was like to live without you. I can’t imagine a world without you in it, Carey. Don’t you see, man? You’re not worthless, not to me. Never to me. You’re my best friend.” Jase patted his cheek. “Look at me.”

Carey raised his gaze. Jase cupped his cheeks in his hands and looked straight into Carey’s tear-filled eyes. His voice was low but firm.

“You’ll never shake me, buddy. Nothing you could do or say will ever make me leave. And we’ll get through this. I will help you get through this, one day at a time. Don’t think about anything else but getting through each day as it comes, okay? There’s no next week, day after tomorrow, or even tomorrow. There’s just today, Carey. Let’s get through today.”

Carey closed his eyes again, moving his hand up to grip the nape of Jase’s neck. Jase pressed their foreheads together, then started to pull back. Before Carey thought about what he was doing, he turned his head slightly so their lips grazed. Carey’s eyes were still closed, but he heard Jase catch his breath. Jase hesitated, then kissed him again lightly, almost casually, and started once again to sit back. Carey tightened his grip around Jase’s neck and pulled him closer, seeking Jase’s mouth with his. Jase settled his mouth over Carey’s, his lips slightly parted, warm and moist.

“Carey,” Jase rasped against Carey’s lips. “I don’t—”

Carey was caught in the grip of something he didn’t understand either, something he didn’t want to analyze. All he wanted was to be touched, to feel something other than pain, than anguish. He was mindless with the need for comfort. He linked his arms around Jase’s neck, pressing closer, and dimly heard him groan deep in his chest. Jase kissed him more firmly then, gliding his tongue along Carey’s bottom lip and nipping it with his teeth until Carey gasped, his mouth opening under Jase’s. They kissed deeply, Jase stroking Carey’s tongue with his own, his stubble rasping along Carey’s cheeks.

“Jase,” Carey moaned, out of his depth but at the same time not quite willing to break away. Jase pulled back, looking into Carey’s eyes, his lips shiny with moisture, red and full. Carey felt lust surge through him at the sight. Dammit, he just wanted to feel good, to feel something, to feel alive.

“Help me to forget for a little while, man,” Carey pleaded. “I don’t care. Please, Jase.”

Jase tried again, his eyes troubled. “You’re upset, Carey. You’ve taken some strong medication. Do you even know what you’re—”

“I need—I need something, Jase. Please help me.” Carey grabbed Jase’s hand and brought it between his legs, over his athletic shorts, letting Jase feel the erection that strained against the fabric, the first one he’d had since before the injury. It throbbed, and it felt so normal. His cock didn’t care his leg was missing. Carey was mindless with need, and it didn’t matter that it was another man’s hand on his dick; he just wanted to feel good.

Jase groaned again, the sound almost tortured, and his hand tightened around Carey’s erection, finding the head with his thumb and rubbing it through the fabric of pants and underwear. Carey caught his breath, moving his leg to the side to give Jase room to move.

“Please, Jase!”

Jase very carefully helped Carey lie down on the couch on his back. He hooked Carey’s leg over the back of the couch cushions, gently easing his body down, being cautious of Carey’s stump, encased in its protective bandage.

Carey arched up under Jase’s body, the sensation of hard muscle instead of soft fleshy warmth against him startling, and so foreign.

Jase was murmuring in his ear, making Carey shiver. “Are you sure about this, Carey? If you want to feel good, I can make you feel good. I can make you feel so good.”