Cards on the Table - 2. Chapter 2 Know when to fold 'em

Chapter 2

Michael couldn't move. He'd heard everything Kendall had said, and saw him leave, but it felt like he was listening and watching from a distance. Wrapping his mind around what had just happened was an excruciating process as the pain he was feeling slowed it, almost to a standstill. Kendall loved him, really loved him. and that confession was slowly seeping in. To hear the words was one thing, but the feelings that came with that revelation were quite another. What did he feel? There was something there he couldn't identify. He wasn't sure, but it was almost a good feeling. Yet, this wasn't something to feel good about. It ruined everything. Didn't it?

Kendall thought Michael was angry... he'd said so. Was he pissed off at Kendall? No, he was pretty sure he wasn't. Thinking about him didn't bring him any anger. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more he could feel a rage building. Oh God, he was angry. Like a bolt of lightning, it hit him hard. He was so fucking angry. He wanted, no, he needed to hit something. As the anguish grew in him, he thought he might break apart from the strength of it. How could this be happening? How could he lose the one person in this world he truly connected with?

It wasn't just their mutual love of sports... the same interests and long history. It was something a lot more than that, like they shared something deep... something no one else could touch. He was losing his friend because he couldn't love him back? How fucking unfair was that? He did love him, and he needed him. The emptiness he was feeling proved that. He didn't know about others' friendships, but for him it felt like Kendall was his other half... his best half. Tears of pain were morphing into tears of fury and he had to get out of here. A surge of energy went through him that couldn't be ignored. He bolted out of the booth to run smack into Candy. Oh fuck... Candy!

"Not now, Candy," he choked out, not giving a shit how he looked to her.

"Baby, what's going on? What's the matter? Jesus, look at you... are you... are you crying?" Her look of concern quickly changed to one of calculation. "Is this about... oh... where did your boyfriend go?" She appeared to find her own words amusing, and Michael's rage escalated.

At that moment he wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off her face. "I said not now." It came out as a growl as he wiped his eyes and glared at her. Watching this young woman paste a fake concerned look back on her face, Michael wondered what he'd ever seen in her. Despite the mask she slipped back into place, she was actually enjoying this. "Why are you being such a bitch? Kendall's not my boyfriend, but he is my best friend, so watch your mouth." The lack of truth in that statement hit him with an intensity that fed his rage. According to Kendall, he had no best friend anymore.

"Oh, come on, Michael," she whined as she put her hand on his arm. He experienced revulsion at her touch, but controlled the urge to yank his arm away. "You can't tell me you don't notice the way he stares at you. If you ask me, I think he's a fag who wants that sexy ass of yours." She was stupid enough to giggle.

The urge was back and this time he followed through, jerking his arm back and away from her. The anger he directed towards her at that comment was unmistakable, even to an idiot like Candy. "Nobody asked you and no one, and I mean no one, gives a shit what you think." He had to force himself to remember he was talking to a woman. If it had been a guy, he would have been on the floor by now. Surprisingly, his turmoil receded enough to allow him to deal with this as the man his parents raised took over.

He looked around the pool hall end of the bar until he spotted the person he was seeking. "Hey, Dave, can you come over here for a sec?" The short man nodded, and ambled over towards the two of them.

Glancing at Candy, Michael saw the confused look on her face. He then looked over at Dave, who was obviously trying to be nonchalant as he assessed the situation. It wasn't difficult to tell something was very wrong here. He was sure he appeared on the edge of violence, but attempted to cover it as he addressed his friend. "Dave, something's come up and I need someone to take Candy home... any chance you could do that for me? I'll owe you one."

As expected, he watched Candy go from confused to livid as she realized she was being pawned off. It was time to try a new tactic, so she made a wasted attempt at damage control. Flicking her pretty blond hair and giving him what she thought was a captivating smile, she reached up to touch his cheek. The revulsion he'd felt was still there, and he stepped back from the gesture. Her inclination to be self absorbed prevented her from getting the message.

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean it like that. I was just joking with you. Let's just go out like we planned, and have some fun, or we can go back to your place and have a different kind of fun if that's what you want?"

Michael wanted to puke as he watched her try to give him her most provocative look.

As she ran her fingers along the edge of the lacy fabric only partially concealing her cleavage, she whispered seductively, "You know you want to." Biting her lower lip and peering up at him through lowered lashes, she had no inkling how pathetic Michael was finding her in that moment. A part of him felt sorry for her when all he could think of was Kendall, and the state he'd been in.

"Actually, I don't. As a matter of fact, it's the last thing I want to do right now. You did mean what you said, and I realize now you and I are a mistake, and I don't want to be around you anymore." His words caused Candy's jaw to drop, but that fleeting moment of sympathy was gone. "So, Dave, if you could do this for me, I would really appreciate it... the lady," he hesitated before he continued. "The lady needs a ride home."

Dave, looking mortified, nodded in somewhat reluctant agreement and Michael started heading for the front door. He knew it was coming, and the bitch didn't disappoint.

"Michael," she wailed. "Why are you being like this? I'm sorry. Please take me with you. I... I love you, Michael."

It was the second time someone had said those words to him tonight, and the difference was startling. He turned around at the door to look at her, fake tears streaming down her face, ruining her perfectly made up face. She even managed to pout while pretending to cry. He wondered for a split second why he had never seen her face without makeup, even in the mornings. "I'm sorry too, Candy, and no, you don't love me... I know what someone in love looks like, and it doesn't look like that." Going out the door, he heard the real Candy scream behind him.

"Go ahead. Run after your faggot boyfriend, you fucking prick. You're a bastard, Michael Aceto." The door closed to block out the rest of her words and for a second he felt bad again. Not for her, but for what he'd just done to Dave.

The relief he experienced at getting out of there was short-lived, however, as waves of despair washed over him. Kendall walking away from him was all his mind could focus on, the momentary respite from tears having ended. He searched for the rage that had encompassed him to the point of frightening him, but it had dissipated for the time being. Candy, while leaving a vile taste in his mouth, had proved to be good for something. Dealing with her had allowed him to become a little more aware, and somewhat more able to process his new reality. As much as he didn't want to accept it, he knew he had to.

The picture of the man spilling his heart out, wreathed in an unfamiliar agony, superimposed itself over everything else in the forefront of his brain. That was what mattered most to Michael as some clarity asserted itself. Actually, it was the only thing that mattered. His friend needed this from him, and his feeling of loss was secondary to what he'd witnessed the man go through. The sheer guts it must have taken started to make him feel ashamed about wallowing in what he was losing. As Kendall had said to him earlier... it was his loss too.

He should have said something . Why didn't he tell his friend he understood and wasn't pissed in the slightest? He should have gone after him. Oh, God... he let him leave like that. He'd let Kendall drive away thinking he didn't want to talk to him. Shit, shit, shit. He hadn't even said goodbye.

Hoping the distraught man had made it home okay, Michael reached into his pocket for his phone. All ready to call him to make sure, he stared at the lit up screen showing the photo of the two of them at the Vancouver Olympics, all smiles over the hockey Gold Medal win. It was his favorite picture of them out of probably a thousand taken over the last six years. The memory of such a happy day was tempered now by the fact he could not make the intended call. Kendall needed him to keep his distance. Dropping the phone down beside him in defeat, he started up his truck and pulled out.

There was almost no traffic, which suited his mood to a tee. Lost in a numbness that blunted thought, Michael tried to concentrate on the road ahead of him. It was no easy task as his mind kept wandering. If it wasn't for his police training, distracted as he was, he might not have even noticed the vehicle pulled over to the side, just ahead. He slowed, and as it came into closer view, Michael's heart thumped with the realization he was looking at Kendall's black Ford F150. All the clouds lifted from his mind as sharp trepidation took over.

Fearing for Kendall's safety, he pulled over, right up behind the truck. Nothing looked amiss, but he could see his friend's head slumped over the steering wheel, and fear crawled up his stomach to his throat. He barely remembered to check for traffic as he swung open his door and jumped out. All he could think of was, 'please, God, let him be okay'.

He was relieved see that blond head head lift slightly as he made his way along the side of the truck, stepping in what he immediately recognized as vomit. Knocking gently on the window, Kendall's head slowly swiveled towards him, but there was no sign of recognition as Michael took in the swollen eyes and wet and dry tear streaks. Opening the door slowly, he searched the face he knew better than his own for clues as to what was going on. He was shocked at how vulnerable and sad this normally vital man looked. He appeared nothing like the person he'd always been in awe of... the one who belonged on the covers of health and fitness magazines.

"Are you okay, Deuce? Are you sick?"

Kendall seemed to come alive as he looked at Michael, and then down at the vomit at his feet. "You shouldn't be here, Ace. I'm okay... I was just sick to my stomach but I'm fine now... don't worry. You can go... and I'll... I'll leave in a couple of minutes. I just need to rest for a bit." Kendall turned his head away, now staring straight ahead.

Michael struggled to understand him. His voice sounded so hoarse and raspy, it made it difficult to decipher his words. It didn't take much to figure out he'd cried hard enough to lose much of his voice. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight it made all the veins in his hands stand out. Without that support, he looked like he might collapse. "What the fuck, man? Are you dismissing me? Don't be such an idiot. You are definitely not all right, so stop bullshitting me. I'm not either, but I will be... and so will you. I am not leaving you like this." He waited for a reaction, but there was none.

Eventually, Kendall put his head down for a minute, as if to hide, but Michael stood there and waited. When he looked back up, he still showed a vulnerability, but there was also determination there. That determination was something he'd seen many times, and no matter what it meant, it was good to see it back.

"We need to talk anyway," Michael muttered. He could be just as determined. "Wait here. I'll be right back." He hurried to his Chev, grabbed a bottle of water from the floor of the rear seat, and ran back. Kendall's head was back to resting on the steering wheel. Michael spoke gently. "Here, drink this." He handed him the water. "Just sips. You don't want to throw up again." The water seemed to help, and a more direct Kendall turned to look him in the eye. He returned the look before taking the water back from him.

"Ah... we've already talked, Ace. There isn't anything more to say so can we just leave it alone? Can you just leave me alone? Please? It's not up to you to take care of me. I can do that myself." His gaze was not exactly steady.

Michael could feel anger rising up, and struggled to keep a lid on it. He looked straight into Kendall's tortured, red-rimmed eyes, about to blast him, but that anger just up and disappeared. "Listen to me. You talked and I heard everything and I understand... but there is stuff I didn't say because I was an idiot and couldn't get anything to come out of my mouth. Don't worry, I promise I will respect your wishes, but not right now. I'm taking you home because you can't drive like this. I know you can take care of yourself... but you don't need to, okay?"

Kendall whipped his head back towards him and started to object, but Michael stared him down.

"Do you really want to challenge an officer of the law on this?" It felt good, just for a second, to play that trump card again. Normally, Kendall would have smirked, but this time he just sighed. Michael knew then he was resigned to his fate, and felt relief there wasn't a battle to be fought. He certainly didn't feel up to one after seeing his friend like this.

"My truck. What about my truck?" Kendall's concern was typical. He loved his 'Black Beauty' and Michael was pleased to see a normal reaction from the man.

"Don't worry about your little toy. I'll call Dispatch and ask them to get someone to pick it up and take it to 51 Division. They'll do that for me, no problem. You can get Beauty in the morning. Is that all right? Deuce... is that okay?"

Kendall seemed deflated again and it made Michael worry. Finally, he nodded to indicate his agreement.

"Okay, let's go then. Do you need anything from your truck?" All Michael got was a head shake, so he reached in and removed the keys from the ignition, putting them on the roof of the cab after detaching them from the others, for whoever came for the truck. He handed Kendall the remaining ones, but the man just sat there. Michael gave his shoulder a little shake to get him moving, earning him a valiant effort at a small smile.

After getting out of the truck, he stood looking at Michael, obviously getting ready to say something. He motioned them away from the messy pavement. "Let's wipe our feet on the grass before we get in my truck. I don't care if that piece of shit Ford smells, but my Chev deserves better." It was good to see a glimmer of the old grin appear on Kendall's face, and for a few seconds, he could pretend their friendship wasn't ending.

"Listen, Ace, I appreciate what you are trying to do here... for me." The croaking sound of his voice was hard to listen to. Michael handed him the water he was holding, and he took a couple of big gulps. After a few deep breaths, he tried again. "I know you must be pissed at me...," he trailed off as Michael held up his hand for him to stop.

"Just get in the truck, please. No more talking for a while. Your voice sounds like shit. I'll get you some lozenges, but let's get one thing clear, okay? I am not the least bit pissed off at you. I might be angry because sometimes the world just sucks, but I am not angry at you. So, let's get you something for your throat and get you home and we will talk then, all right?" Kendall looked skeptical, but nodded as he got in the truck, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. Michael called Dispatch about the need for a pick up, letting them know where it was, and where he'd left the keys.

The drive to Kendall's apartment was quiet. He didn't stir when he stopped for lozenges, but Michael knew he wasn't sleeping. He pulled up in front of the ground floor unit and turned off the vehicle. Looking over, he was met by those turquoise eyes staring back. "Is it okay to come in... or do you want me to leave?" Now that they were here, he felt nervous, wondering if he was welcome anymore. Up until yesterday he practically lived here, but things were different now. Yup, he was back on the roller coaster and it felt plain awful. "If you rather I just left, it's okay... I don't want to make you uncomfortable." He couldn't help swallowing a few times when all moisture deserted his mouth.

"Are you uncomfortable being here, knowing how I feel about you?" Kendall croaked out the question, revealing his own uncertainty.

He looked over, the query catching him completely off guard, but Kendall was now looking away, out the side window, as if he dreaded the answer. He surprised himself when he realized he didn't have to think about the answer. "No, Deuce, knowing how you feel doesn't make me uncomfortable at all."

The man's head swung back, and Michael watched while Kendall searched his face. All there was to see was the truth and certainty he felt. He held out his hand and offered Kendall a lozenge, pleased to see it offered instant relief.

"Come on, let's go in. You wanted to talk and I want to hear what you have to say." Walking the short distance to his apartment, Kendall unlocked the door and left it open for him to follow just like always... only now it felt very different, knowing this was probably his last visit to his second home. Unbidden, tears welled up, but he willed them away immediately. Still, It was obvious Kendall had noticed. Emotion started to fill the living room where they had both taken their usual seats. "God, I am so tired, Ace, but I need to know something."

"Okay. What do you want to know?"

"Why doesn't it make you uncomfortable... the way I feel, I mean?"

"I know what you meant and the answer is, I don't know, it just doesn't. Sometimes it seems like we're the same person." He hesitated... wanting to get it right. "I mean, it's like you know everything about me and I know everything about you. Well... at least now I do." That was said with a smile that was answered by one from Kendall. The tension in the room seemed to lighten a little after that. "It may sound strange to you because it does to me, but I almost feel honored a person like you could love someone like me."

Kendall's eyebrows rose briefly, before frowning, as if he was trying to figure out what he'd meant.

Michael tried again to explain what he really didn't understand himself. "Candy told me tonight that she loved me."

Kendall's eyebrows rose again, but he didn't say anything.

"Her saying those words made me think of you saying them, and I realized I'd rather hear them from you than from her. Her saying it was a game, and complete bullshit. When you said it, it wasn't... a game, I mean. It was real, and in a way, it made me feel good, you saying you loved me. Fuck, that sounded stupid and cruel, didn't it? And selfish. Shit." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "That's... that's not how I meant it to sound. I am not making light of your feelings. You asked me a question and I thought I could explain it, but I fucked it up." He lowered his head, feeling truly disgusted with himself.

"Slow down, Ace. Relax. You didn't fuck it up at all. I actually kind of understood what you were saying. I know you care about me and respect my feelings, and I know you would never toy with them. It's a better answer than I expected from... a person like you."

It was Michael's turn to raise his eyebrows as Kendall threw that phrase back at him.

"Well, you're always such a word butcher. Eloquence is not your strong suit." The indignant look Michael put on his face had the desired effect, because Kendall burst out laughing.

Seeing that broad beautiful smile, despite the ordeal they were going through, made Michael realize just how important it, and that face, were to him. The love he felt for the man in that moment was pretty strong. Kendall wasn't just a part of his life. He was most of it. Again, the thought of him not being in it was pretty sobering, and a pall was cast on the room once again. "You know that laugh of yours sounds more like geese honking than anything else." Michael wanted that lighter mood back. "Maybe you should drink some more water. He got up and went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Perrier for Kendall, and, on second thought, got one for himself. "Here you go... maybe the bubbles will help your throat."

Kendall thanked him, making eye contact, and Michael felt that connection again... the one that had clicked into place the first time they'd met.

"So what did you want to say to me?" Kendall's question was tinged with something that could have been fear... maybe even returning anguish.

"Oh." Michael was guilty of zoning out for a bit as he struggled to gather his thoughts, while Kendall sat quietly and waited. "Okay, well, first I want to apologize for the way I acted at Sticks." He was looking straight at his friend. "I was an insensitive jerk to be thinking about how this affected me, and not you. Fuck, man, I tried but I couldn't get my brain to work, and I am so sorry. I should have said something when you were talking to me. I heard everything you said, and I just sat there thinking poor me after you laid yourself wide open, and I feel ashamed of myself for that." He had to hesitate for a moment in order to get a grip on his shame. "I let you down at the worst possible time. I should have seen what you were going through all these years, and I didn't. I don't feel like I was a very good friend to you."

Kendall's eyes began to glisten, but he didn't look away as Michael continued.

"I let you walk out of there thinking I was pissed off because I couldn't snap out of my own misery and be there for you. I was an asshole... a real dipshit asshole. I really need you to forgive me, Deuce. I promise you I will respect your wishes because I want you to be happy. I didn't know how miserable you were, and I should have seen it." A choking sound escaped before he resumed speaking. "So, I'm asking you to forgive me? Can you do that?" Those last words came out as little more than a whisper... one more plea for an evening filled with them.

Kendall slowly stood, and took a step forward. Blue eyes locked with blue eyes as he quietly uttered, "Come here." Michael stood and Kendall held his arms open. He walked into the slightly taller man's arms and they hugged each other tightly. He was acutely aware this was a goodbye hug. They held on for a couple of minutes, and Michael pulled in his friend's scent as their heads leaned against one another.

The only words uttered were said into Michael's ear. "There is nothing to forgive, Ace." A minute later, Michael silently walked out of the apartment, pulling the door closed behind him. He walked slowly to his beloved Chevy, got in and drove away, taking one last look at his once best friend. Kendall was watching him from the other side of the living room window.