own teeth,” said Craig, and I groaned as I looked down at my cup. A kick made damn sure there was no dentures smiling up at me from the bottom, although the need to drink withered away to dust knowing that they may well have been. I’d popped into the bathroom for a few minutes and left it unattended. Just my luck to go from worrying about having my ass drugged in a scene to worrying about some old geezer’s teeth in the bottom of a cup.
“Name’s Joe.”
I narrowed my eyes as Joe came over, just a few shuffles first, then quick and fast like he was a demon on roller skates, all long and twisted fingers to boot. “Say hello Joe,” he said with a smile at me.
A hand was offered out, just inches from my nose. Skin had those dark brown patches that always seemed to come with old age. Nails were bitten short, but dirt covered the thin fingernails in places, like he’d been digging in the dirt and forgotten shovels had been invented long before the wheel.
His smile started to fade and Joe jerked a look back to the door, to Craig, withdrawing his hand and cupping it as though scolded. “No hello Joe.”
“It’s okay,” said Craig, coming over, and he offered his hand out to the old man. “Hello, Joe.”
Joe shook it, grinning, then gripping on with both hands and looking like he was going pneumatic drill with pure Craig. “’lo from Joe, Craig.”
“Hello, Joe,” said Craig, winking down at me.
Now finished shaking any chance of Craig having kids out of him, Joe again held out his hand to me. “Hello Joe?”
Giving a frown, I looked away. The shuffle of feet moved away from the bed a moment later.
“Hello, Joe,” I said quietly, and Joe smiled back as I looked over, “sorry about the hand shi—” I bit back the swearing and went back to reading the paper I’d “borrowed” from off the nurse’s station. “Just a touch... OCD, that’s all.”
“Oh, CDs... ’S okay.”
I scowled as the paper was lost under Joe’s ass as he sat down. “Joe not like them either.” He nodded over at me, the lines on his face seeming to come and go with each new expression. “Dom Williams, better on vinyl, so you.” He reached over and patted my hand. “It’s okay Jack not like CDs. Joe get him vinyl.”
Craig folded his arms and buried his grin. “Joe, Jack’s trying to say—”
“CDs,” I added, shaking out ‘my paper’, then looking at Joe. “No, don’t like touching CDs, Joe, so just, y’know, don’t take it funny—”
“Oh Joe knows.” He tapped his head. “Knows Jack don’t like saying hello Joe if Joe touches CDs.”
I bit back my own smile and buried it pretending to read the paper as Craig helped Joe up.
“Sure Jack not take Joe’s teeth?” Joe bent over and peered into my cup. “It’s just—”
“Lunch, Joe.” Craig turned him toward the door. “We’ll scrub those hands, then go check under your bed. It’s where you put them for safekeeping last time you were off on your travels.” Joe left and chuntered on about something, his shuffling feet adding to the whole steam train image. Craig smiled down. “This the new place for lost property, is it?” he asked, eyeing up the paper. “Because I swore I brought that in this morning for me to read at break.”
I flicked through to the classifieds, eyeing up the motors for sale. Not that they’d do me any fucking good in here. “You’re MC. You share,” I said, only to find the paper pinched from the bed.
“Any wonder Joe thinks you stole his teeth?” Craig folded the paper and threw down a scowl. “Mine. It says so right here.” He pointed at something, and fool me I followed, to which he gave me the finger. “See?”
“You do know that giving me the finger from your right hand signifies you’re not only a sub, but also into nipple piercing, or that you have your nipple pierced at least,” I said, loving how his smile fell a touch. “And here was me thinking you were a BDSM
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