Untouchable (LGBT - SciFi - Romance)

Chapter 23

Alan Stewart lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He was beyond exhaustion, but his brain wouldn't let him sleep. His mind kept going over and over the events of that evening. He hoped he was justified in believing Robin Lang had not intended to kill the other man, but he couldn't help worrying about what he had got into.

In hindsight, he wondered if the stranger had used his name in order to send a warning to Lang. "Beware, I know who you are." He suspected that if Lang hadn't been blackmailed yet, it wouldn't have been much longer. Perhaps the tall man had been intending to tighten the noose that very evening, before Lang had taken the initiative away from him.

The Captain of police on Huan would be a valuable resource for a shady businessman.

He found he was focussing on Robin and his problems, deliberately keeping his mind away from the disastrous encounter with Michael. Every so often, his mind would disobey him and he would remember a moment when Michael had seemed to be sexually attracted to him. But his tension tonight at the thought of sex had been unmistakable. The image of Michael in nothing but a towel kept him restive, pointlessly wishing things could have been different. In the end, he gave himself a shot and knocked himself out for a few hours. Maybe things would be better in the morning. They could hardly be any worse.

~~~

Banner rose early the next day and went to see Dr. Patel at the hospital. Dr. Patel had told him that he was favourably impressed by his application and was hoping this morning's appointment would result in him getting a new job. Maybe something would go right in his life. He would ask Dr. Patel if he could start immediately. He didn't think he could face going back to the Qatar, running into Alan every day.

Last night, he had dropped all his barriers for him, only to be rejected. Angrily, he blinked back tears. He had given it his best shot last night and it hadn't been enough, he couldn't think of anything else he could do to hold on to Alan's love.

As if to rub his face in it, as he entered the hospital he nearly bumped into Robin Lang, who was on his way out. Evidently, he had been visiting Max. Lang gave Banner an embarrassed nod of acknowledgement, remembering how he had attacked him during the court hearing. He was going to walk on without stopping, when Banner reached out and pulled him to a halt. "As far as I'm concerned, you don't deserve him! But for some reason you're the one he wants, so don't you dare let him down again!" Banner almost hissed the words.

Lang stared at him in bewildered disbelief. "What?"

"Alan!" Banner glared at him impatiently.

~~~

"Alan told you that? Himself?" Lang was astounded. He was positive Alan still felt betrayed and angry with him. He'd certainly acted that way the night before. He looked hard at the young medic in front of him ‒ if he was any judge, Banner believed what he was saying. He was glaring at him in baffled fury, the jealousy coming off him in waves.

He didn't know why his heart started beating faster. He was no om, for god's sake. What did it matter whether Alan fancied him or not? The relationship he'd had with Master had never been one of lovers, it had just been to satisfy a certain ... need. He had never sought a normal relationship with another man. He had never even thought of approaching Alan in that way. Never. So why did the mere thought that Alan might be interested in him get his pulse going? He was on his way out to hire a hovercar to take Max home from the hospital. After he had Max settled, perhaps, he'd call on Alan. Just to talk about last night.

Lang finally caught up with Alan Stewart later that afternoon. They'd both been at patrol headquarters making their statements and he invited himself back to Stewart's hotel room for a drink and a chat. Alan looked tired, he thought. Lang kept shooting glances at him, trying to tell if Banner had been right, but he couldn't tell.

Stewart poured them both a Burran ale and flopped into a chair, waving Lang to the couch. "How's Max?"

"Good. He's out of hospital now and taking it easy. Unfortunately, I have to return to Huan tomorrow, but I've rented a serviced apartment for him for the next few weeks until he can return to the Qatar." Lang sipped his ale.

"He'll be fine," Stewart agreed absently. He frowned and looked intently at Lang. "I've been thinking about last night. I'm worried about blackmail. I don't think you can assume that you're in the clear just because one of them is ‒ er ‒ out of action. This Ron Pearce is still at large, and I suspect they were working together. You'll need to be on your guard, I'm afraid."

Lang felt sick. "Do you really think so?"

Stewart nodded. "It makes sense to expect the worst. Prepare yourself, then if it doesn't happen, great!" he paused, then added slowly, "You might want to consider taking Captain Martinez into your confidence."

"No!" Lang was adamant. "I just‒ couldn't!"

"He's probably heard it all before," Stewart tried to reassure him, but all it got him was a feeble grimace. "Just think about it. Whatever you've done, no matter how embarrassing you now find it, has been as a consenting adult. Hardly a crime! Succumbing to blackmail on the other hand, would be the beginning of a slippery slide. You know full well it would never stop at only one favour."

Lang drained his drink. He knew Alan was right, but ... "I'll think about it," was all he could manage.

He sought for a change of subject. "I ran into your friend, Medic Banner, this morning. On his way into the hospital." He held his plasglas out for a refill. He couldn't help but notice the start Alan gave at the name.

"Oh?" he asked, unconvincingly casual. Lang was almost certain Banner had got the wrong end of the stick, but he wanted to know for sure.

"He seemed to think," he gave a deprecating laugh, "that you wanted a relationship with me?"

"What!" the horrified look on Alan's face was almost insulting. Thank you god he hadn't made a pass at him, not even a little one. Banner had certainly got the wrong idea.

Alan was staring at him. "What on Earth made him think that, do you know?"

Robin Lang summoned up a smile, "He said you'd told him yourself."

"What!" Something about his expression must have betrayed him because Alan added, "You don't think ... you know it's not true, right?"

"Of course." Lang was quick to answer.

"Even if I wasn't in love with Michael, I still haven't forgiven you for believing I'd hurt Max."

"I understand." Lang thought his fake smile couldn't get any more artificial. He'd better go before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

Stewart stood up at the same time. Suddenly he reached forward and put his arms around him. He pulled him into a hug, ignoring the fact that his body was stiff against him. "Robin, you idiot! I don't know what god-awful mess you've got yourself into, but seriously, you need some help. Professional help, I mean. I'm not demeaning you, but obviously you hate whatever it is you've been doing and that can't be healthy, right?"

For a split second, Lang let himself relax against Stewart, feeling the warmth seep through into his coldness. He rested his head on his shoulder and murmured. "I'm sorry, Alan. I'm really sorry for hurting you." Alan's arms tightened round him for an instant, then eased back again.

Time to go. This was all he was going to get. He had totally blown the chance of having any sort of relationship. Gently, Robin Lang disengaged. He turned back just as he was leaving. He owed Alan. "You should talk to your friend. Whatever it was that happened between you, he thinks you don't want him anymore. He was very upset, almost sick with jealousy."

"Jealous? He was jealous?" Stewart spoke sharply. "You're certain?" His heart started pounding. A man didn't feel jealous of a mere friend. Maybe he had misunderstood.