Gregori's Ghost

Steven woke up about noon, hungry and feeling more like his usual self. He ran his hands down Alexi’s flank. “You need some exercise. You’ve got a belly like a potato dumpling.” Alexi glared at him in disbelief from his one good eye, muttered what sounded like Ukrainian curses into the pillow. “I think I’m going out for a run,” Steven said. “I’m gonna go stir crazy stuck in here.”

Alexi rolled over, and they looked at each other for a long moment, Steven standing next to the bed with his hands on his hips. Then he turned around and started hunting around for his running shoes.

“This is the problem with Americans,” Alexi said, his voice silky. “You decide what you want to do, and then you just convince yourselves it’s safe and right and justified. That way you get to do what you want.”

Steven sat down on the side of the bed and started tying his shoes. “What’s your plan to get us out of here?”

Alexi rolled over, ran his hand up the back of Steven’s T-shirt. “You’re the American cowboy. You mean you rode in here like Clint Eastwood to save the day, and you didn’t have any idea how to get yourself out?”

Steven turned until he could look down into Alexi’s face. “I said us, not me. I didn’t come to save the day. I came to save you. Why are you being such an ass? Are you in pain?”

“Yes, I’m in pain.” He fell back against the pillows and put the good arm up over his face, winced when he made contact with the abrasions over his forehead. “And I’m worried. I can see you’re too hard-headed to listen to me. You know they’re probably looking for you. They could follow you or pull you off the street or do anything they wanted to, Steven.”

Not to me, they couldn’t. He suspected Alexi could read the thought in his face, since he was snarling at him again. “Listen, I’m a neurologist. I can examine your head and in a pinch I can clean a bullet wound in your arm, but whatever is going on here is your world, 007, not mine. You’re gonna have to figure out what to do next. But one of us needs to go find out if they’re watching us, and yes, I want a run.”

He climbed back on the bed, straddled Alexi’s hips. “Hey.”

Alexi wouldn’t look at him.

“You know you want me.”

“Actually I want a cigarette.”

He rocked against Alexi’s hips. “Gregori told me I would be crazy about you. I’m still reserving judgment. I usually like nice boys.”

“Really? Like fish-tacos? That’s what Charlie told me, too. That I’d fall for you one day. So naturally I decided that hell would freeze over first.”

“You don’t have to leave the country with me, Alexi. But I wish you would. If you don’t want to leave here, I guess I’ll stay with you. Keep an eye on you. You are going to need a personal physician if you don’t improve your dating habits. Or you can pick another country.” He hesitated.

“But what?” Alexi reached for Steven’s hip, let his fingers press into the warm skin.

“I think we need to take care of Gregori. I don’t know what to do, though, and I don’t think he does, either. But I feel like we need to lay it to rest. Or help him lay the burden down somehow. Something. But he doesn’t look good. I’m getting worried.”

“Okay, Steven. I’ll think how to get us out of here. You think about Gregori, about what he needs. My grandfather’s ghost. Huh. I’m not sleeping with you if you’re sleeping with him, too.”

“Of course I’m not sleeping with him! He’s a ghost, for God’s sake.”

“Uh, huh. Like that would stop you. You’re very stubborn, Steven. Pigheaded, that’s what you call it, right?”

He leaned forward, kissed the side of Alexi’s mouth, his soft lips and prickly beard. “If we ever decide to fuck I get to be on top.”

“The hell you say! I’m on top.”