|User:||janitor_jd (posted by scathingsarcasm)|
Rating: T, for heavy angst and one detailed mention of mansmex.
Purplesyringe’s CHALLENGE: Prompt #11. I’ve been better.
A/N: Okay, I have no idea where this came from, but I figured I might as well post it… all thanks to purplesyringes, I guess she’s really inspiring me today!
His first big clue that something was wrong was the scalding trail of blood trickling down his chin. By all means, he should’ve panicked, dropped everything he was doing, and called an ambulance.
Instead, he calmly whipped it away with his sleeve, and continued walking down the hospitals bleached-white halls, checking his patient’s chart. Who cared if his vision was blurring gray around the edges and it was becoming increasingly difficult to walk in a straight line? If his head was pounding incessantly with a steady, staccato beat, heavy against his skull, as if it was about to crack open without any warning to the innocent hospital-goers around him?
Nothing seemed to matter at the moment. It all paled in comparison to what he had already suffered.
Had it already been two weeks? Two weeks since that perfect night, that hopeful morning, and finally, that agonized, heartbreaking brush-off? The cold glare in his granite eyes, a harsh frown set into his hansom, yet also fearsome face… it was just so clear in his mind’s eye. Of course there were good memories too; the rough texture of his stubble against his cheek, his smooth palms and the callused pads of his fingers, so gentle as they prepared him. Those amazing eyes, staring intensely at his face, his body, darkened in desire and something unidentifiable, unknown. The exquisite build up, his fingertips scraped the heavens, and then his was back on earth, staring into the face of something that was almost better, as his lover’s completion overtook him. He had been beautiful. Then, he had left his body, and he mourned the loss as if it was a part of him. However, the two strong, tanned arms that encircled him were almost as good – no, better, because he was sleepy and relaxed and felt more whole and complete that he had ever felt before. He rested his head over his lover’s chest, hearing the steady ‘thump-thump’s of a healthy heartbeat that lulled him to sleep.
That night was the best sleep he had ever had, in all his thirty-one years of life; but also, the last.
Now, that warmth radiating from deep inside his chest was conspicuously absent. In it’s place, a cold, dead weight had taken up residence, making his entire body feel impossible to lift. Painstakingly, he forced his legs to propel him forward, even though through the numbness he could feel an ache in his chest that was not entirely due to actual ‘heartache’. He tried to ignore the fact that his feet were taking him down the hall that he knew the Janitor habitually mopped every day at this exact time; a hall that happened to be empty of any hospital personnel. The Janitor had been in a supremely foul mood for the last few weeks, to the point that all of his minions had fled from his presence, and the only person in the hospital that wasn’t desperately trying to avoid him was and equally pissed off Dr. Cox.
He had a feeling he knew why.
He tried to halt his feet, but they refused to obey, even as his hands shook with emotion when the Janitor’s tall frame loomed into sight. His dizziness suddenly tripled, causing him to stumble dazedly foreword, but he couldn’t stop now. He was in for broke, and not reaching the man that his entire world now revolved around now sounded like blasphemy to his ears. Unthinkable.
The Janitor’s head shot up at the sound of his clamoring feet, his eyes, beautiful, glorious and disturbed, opened wide as he took in the sights before him. A lock of short, chocolate brown hair fell over his bronze forehead, momentarily captivating him, and he couldn’t bear to look away. He wasn’t aware of the stuttering beat of his heart, struggling to pump blood through his unsuspecting body. He didn’t notice the harsh cough that forced itself out of his body, along with a rush of blood that flowed over his chin soaked into his scrubs to, or the horrified expression that overtook his once-lover’s face.
He took that final step and fell into the taller man’s arms, reveling in their warm reassurance as they wrapped around him, steadying him, warming his cold insides. He was only vaguely aware of those arms shaking him frantically, but the words came through loud and clear.
"Oh my god… JD, are you okay? What’s happening! What’s wrong with you?!"
Janitor had never dealt well with crisis, he mused silently, basking in his concern. He felt the cool linoleum beneath him, and wondered when he had been lowered to the floor, but decided it really didn’t matter as a large, warm had supported his head from behind, and his other are cradled him lovingly to him chest. His frantic grey eyes were filled with that undefinable emotion yet again, only now he thought he knew what it was, and that knowledge blazed like a torch in his wavering heart.
He smiled weakly at the older man, and whispered, "I’ve been better."
It was a lie. Despite the piercing pain in his chest, he had never felt better in his life.