Beta Test (#gaymers) (14 page)

“You’re going to be okay.” Tristan rubbed Ravi’s uninjured shoulder. Ravi really didn’t like how nice that contact felt, especially as a large blonde woman pushed through the onlookers. She had a walkie-talkie and a no-nonsense frown, and Ravi could already tell he wasn’t going to be happy with what happened next.

“I’ve got an ambulance on the way,” she announced. “Everyone back to your booths. The medics will need a clear path in.”

“No need.” Ravi tried to wave her concern away but ended up wincing instead.

“There’s every need,” Tristan said firmly. “And don’t worry about the booth. I’ll take care of everything.”

Of that, Ravi had no doubts.

* * *

Tristan hoped he sounded a lot more confident than he felt. Ravi had an angry gash right next to his ear, and blood was running down his neck. The blonde woman who worked for the convention center had a first-aid kit with her and got Tristan to hold a gauze pad against the wound while she spoke into her walkie-talkie.

Poor Ravi. He’d been in a bad mood all morning, and now this. He was going to need stitches for sure, and he’d be lucky if it wasn’t a concussion too. Tristan squeezed his good shoulder with his free hand. Ravi’s rules against touching could resume as soon as Tristan knew he’d be okay.

“I really don’t need an ambulance.” Ravi tried to sit up, but Tristan pushed him back down.

“It’s the fastest way to get you in to be sewn up and checked out.” The woman had the placid voice of someone who’d been around more than a few injuries. “Trust me. It’s this or you walk in. You’ll be seen faster, and you won’t bleed all over a taxi.”

“Fine. But I’m coming back as soon as I can.”

“You are not. Assuming you don’t have a concussion, you’re going up to the hotel room to rest.” Tristan didn’t do commanding well, but he tried for a firm tone.

“Listen to your boyfriend, honey,” the woman said to Ravi. “He’s right. You just rest. I’ll have one of our volunteers help him out here if needed.”

“We’re not together,” Tristan said quickly, and withdrew his hand from Ravi’s shoulder even though he
needed
the contact to reassure himself every bit as much as Ravi. “We just work together.”

The words seemed so inadequate for everything they’d been through the past few days.
Don’t be getting sentimental.
They were coworkers with a tentative friendship who’d stepped over some boundaries last night. That was all, and it was all they’d ever be.

Ravi’s eyes met Tristan’s and he nodded almost imperceptibly. And if a little piece inside Tristan died, he tried to push past it quickly, focus on the paramedics who arrived and who had to deal with Ravi protesting the need for a stretcher.

“Be quiet and maybe they won’t need to shave your hair,” Tristan said.

Ravi laughed, and it was the best sound in the whole world because it meant he was going to be okay. And right then, that had to be enough.

* * *

A while after Ravi departed with the paramedics and more than a little piece of Tristan’s heart, Tristan had to face reality that Ravi was right about the booth’s configuration not working with the set pieces they had. Right before Ravi had been injured, Tristan had been intending to make Ravi use his charm and tact and go talk to one of the event organizers about getting them the spot they’d been promised.

Now Ravi was out of commission and if anyone was going to do any sweet talking, it would have to be Tristan. And he had two and a half decades beating down on him, telling him not to make a fuss, not to be loud and above all else, do not make a hassle for someone else. Derek had made fusses. Derek had been a hassle. And his parents had made it very clear that those were
not
desirable qualities. So Tristan had stuck with crappy class schedules, inadequate dorm rooms and parental edicts he’d rather ignore.

But all his inclination to simply endure was at war with his need to do right by his employer. Strangely enough, it wasn’t Robert Christopher’s face that flashed in Tristan’s mind. Sure, impressing the big boss would be awesome, but it was Ravi’s face that Tristan kept picturing. Ravi proud of him for working this out and Ravi laughing when Tristan told him the story later. And it was thoughts of Ravi that drove Tristan’s feet forward, made him go seek out the convention personnel.

He could do this for Ravi.

* * *

Ravi didn’t have a concussion, but he did lose some hair around his ear as the ER doctor put in the stitches. The doctor went on and on about how lucky he was, but Ravi wasn’t sure that being subjected to the amateur barbering before he could leave qualified as a win. He also hadn’t broken his collarbone or shoulder, but he did have a nasty contusion blooming on that side. It took until late afternoon before they released him with some pain meds and strict instructions about his sutures and not washing his hair for a few days.

It was a stupid thing to be depressed over but he totally was. Throughout the afternoon he’d had a series of text messages with Tristan, who had been eager to know whether Ravi was okay. And that was...cute. And okay, it did bolster Ravi’s mood more than a little.

I’m finally done, Ravi texted. I’ll stop by the booth when the taxi drops me off.

You will not. You will go REST. Tristan’s reply was almost immediate. He’d been rather cryptic about how setup was going, but Ravi’s head
did
throb. By the time the taxi dropped him off at the convention center hotel, he was exhausted enough to comply with Tristan, sending a quick text to let him know he was up in the room.

You’re so whipped
, his brain whispered.

I’d do the same for any friend
, Ravi tried telling himself. But then he remembered how good Tristan’s hands on him had felt when he was hurting, and he knew he was well and truly screwed.

* * *

Ravi woke up to the buzzing of his phone. Damn. It was after dinnertime and Tristan still wasn’t back. He answered the phone, prepared for some disaster with the booth, but got hit with the only thing worse than a freaking-out Tristan: his mother.

“Ravikar! Finally. Why do you not answer your phone for your family?”

“I’ve been busy with work.” Ravi sat up gingerly. He wasn’t going to tell his mother about his injury. She’d be on the next plane to come baby him if she thought he was hurt. “I’m in Seattle right now on a business trip.”

“Ah. Such important things with your new job!” The approval in her voice softened his irritation.

“How are things with you, Maa?” he asked, rubbing his sore neck.

“Avani arrived today for her dress fitting. We go into the city tomorrow, but tonight we work on the reply cards and the seating arrangements. Why don’t we have your RSVP?” His mother’s careful English got more heavily accented when she got agitated.

Ravi took a deep breath. It was time he got this over with. “Because I’m not coming. I’m busy with work—”

“You are not. You work so hard you would miss your baby sister’s wedding?”

“I’ll make it up to her—”

“There is no ‘make it up.’ There is only you, her
bhai
doing the tasks required of you.”

“Haresh bhai can do it.” Ravi hated handing the role of the older brother off to his cousin, but it was far better for his sanity than being there.

“Do not be insulting. And I have several
nice
girls for you to meet. Good families, some of our oldest friends. You will come.”

And there it was, the reason he absolutely could not come. “Maa
.
I’m not interested in the girls. You know that. I’m gay.”

She made a sound of disgust. “Do not be ridiculous. My son is not...
that.
You just need to meet the right girl. And Dadi and I have been talking. We have a list. This time you will listen to us, and you will be so happy.”

Not hardly.
Ravi couldn’t think of anything more miserable than being set up with some poor girl by his mother and grandmother. Well okay, yes, he could, and that was his mother continuing to insist that he wasn’t gay over a decade after he first came out. Ravi had other Desi friends, even Gujarati friends, whose parents had made peace with their sexuality. He even had a trans friend who had found eventual familial acceptance. Her parents had attended her wedding to her Caucasian wife, but Ravi had to be stuck with his conservative mother and grandmother who would no sooner attend a gay wedding than they would start eating meat.

On the other side of the spectrum, he knew people who had been completely cut off from their families. That would suck too, but this weird limbo where his mother insisted on complete denial was soul-sucking. And he could
not
stomach a week of family activities with Avani as his only real supporter while the rest of the family looked to Dadi’s example and tried to introduce him to every eligible Gujarati woman under thirty.

“Maa
.
I’m not coming, and that’s final.”

She made a clucking noise. “We will talk again when you are back home after your trip. We can make arrangements then. You don’t want to disappoint Avani, Ravikar. I know that.”

No, of course, he didn’t want to let Avani down, which was why he’d been avoiding her. He knew she was going to be rightfully upset. She’d been his first friend, his sole supporter in the family, and she didn’t deserve this. But Ravi couldn’t fathom a way this wasn’t going to be miserable and spirit-crushing for him.

Ravi managed to end the phone call with his mother right as the door to the hotel room swung open. It was seriously ridiculous how his funk lifted at the mere sight of Tristan, and how badly he wanted to greet him with a hug. Which was exactly why he stayed exactly where he was and tried to school his face to stay neutral.

Tristan, however, seemed to suffer no such reluctance. He quickly crossed to where Ravi sat on the bed and crouched in front of him.

“How bad is it?” His fingers were unbearably tender on Ravi’s jaw. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“I’m fine.” Ravi couldn’t help but relax into the contact. “A few stitches and a nasty bruise.”

“I’m so glad you’re going to be okay.” Tristan rose to sit next to Ravi, giving him the gentlest of hugs. And oh hell, it was all Ravi could do to not lose it on the spot. He needed Tristan far too fucking much.

Chapter Fourteen

Tristan
needed
to touch Ravi. Like there was no politely hanging back and waiting to see if Ravi even wanted him in the room. No, he
needed
to see that Ravi was okay. Still, it hurt a bit when Ravi went stiff in his embrace.

“What’s wrong? Do you need some pain meds?” Tristan asked, then frowned as it hit him that maybe
he
was the problem. “Or was it the hug? I figured since we were alone—”

“It’s fine.” Ravi reached a hand up to his hair then dropped it fast. “Alone doesn’t count for the PDA thing. It’s just...”

“Yeah?” Tristan prodded like Ravi always did to him.

“It’s been a shit day.” Ravi sank back against Tristan. “Shitty booth. Shitty injury. Shitty phone call with my family.”

Tristan started rubbing Ravi’s back, even though he doubted he was as good at back rubs as Ravi was. “About that shitty booth...” He took a breath. “The conference coordinator kind of hates us now.”

“Well that was obvious by this sticking us where no one will see our stuff.” Ravi gave him a weak smile. “And you can keep doing that. Feels nice.”

“No, I mean that I totally raised this huge stink and got us moved.”

“Yeah? Go you, man.” Ravi’s smiled got wider.

“I kept demanding to talk to the next person higher up and I slapped down the emails I had showing what we reserved and...” Tristan trailed off, afraid he sounded totally ridiculous.

But Ravi twisted around so he could grin at him. “Way to be a badass, Tris. I knew all that organization would save us.”

Ravi’s praise truly was one of the best feelings in the world—not simply that he appreciated what Tristan had done, but that he seemed to take for granted that Tristan was capable of solving the situation. That sort of belief in him wasn’t something he’d experienced a whole lot of.

“I created such a hassle for the organizers. I feel bad about that—”

“Don’t feel bad. You create all the hassle you need to if it gets us what we need. How did you get everything moved from the first space?”

“Regina—the blonde lady who called the ambulance for you—she found some volunteers for me. But that’s why I’m back so late. It was a ton of work. But worth it. I can’t wait until you see it.” Tristan knew he was grinning like an idiot, and it was all he could do to stop from dragging the injured guy back down to the convention floor for a sneak peek.

“Yeah? I can’t wait either.” Ravi returned his smile, and Tristan felt its warmth all the way through his tired muscles. “After this crappy day, that news is exactly what I needed to hear.”

“Tell me more about your day. What’s the deal with the phone call?”

“Oh man. You don’t want to know all my family drama.” Ravi gingerly reclined next to Tristan, dragging Tristan down with him. Tristan adjusted himself so he was against Ravi’s uninjured side.

“Sure I do. We’re friends now, right?” he reminded Ravi.
Friends
wasn’t really accurate—they’d gotten physical with each other and they no longer actively disliked each other, but there wasn’t really another word for this tentative...
thing
between them. “And I unloaded on you about my family last night.”

“My sister’s getting married in a huge traditional Hindu wedding, and everyone’s bugging me about attending.”

“But you don’t want to go?” Tristan guessed.

“It’s not that easy.” Ravi groaned. “Do I want to go for Avani? Absolutely. But my mother and grandmother refuse to acknowledge that I’m gay, and they’re already plotting what women to introduce me to, and I’m not sure I can handle dealing with a week of their denial.”

“That’s rough.” Tristan rubbed Ravi’s arm. “I know it’s not really the same thing, but my dad’s in similar denial. He never acknowledged Patrick as my boyfriend, and both of my parents have pulled the ‘why don’t you meet this nice girl I know’ card before. And trust me, ‘don’t flaunt’ as a refrain sucks too.”