Dreamspinner Press Year Six Greatest Hits

by JD Ruskin

  “It’s not like I have many friends either.” When he had come up for parole, he’d deliberately asked to move into a neighborhood on the other side of town from his old place, needing to break away from the people who’d watched him slide into a bottle and not climb out. He couldn’t stand the thought of facing Michael again and seeing the hurt in his eyes. “He don’t drink booze and he’s a good guy.”

  “So, you’re getting to be friends with him?”

  Logan started to say yes, but then stopped.

  Dabb made a frustrated noise. “This,” he said, pointing back and forth between them, “doesn’t work if you’re not honest with me.”

  “I want us to be friends, but I wouldn’t mind if we were… uh… more than friends.” It was the first time he’d admitted even to himself what he really wanted. He’d wanted to fuck Caleb from the moment they’d met, but the urge to get closer to him had grown as he’d gotten to know him better. He’d had enough meaningless fucks in his life and too many he couldn’t even remember. He wanted more than that from Caleb. He wasn’t sure if he should act on it, but there was no use denying it.

  Dabb massaged his forehead. “You know, this isn’t the first time in twenty years I’ve played Dr. Phil to a parolee’s love life, but it has to be the strangest.”

  “Don’t get a lot of gay romances, do ya?”

  “Plenty, but they don’t usually sound like the tagline to a porno.” His voice took on the tone of a TV announcer. “The delivery guy can’t wait to deliver his package to the housebound hottie.”

  Logan barked a short laugh. Then felt his cheeks flushing when he remembered his first fantasy about Caleb had been along those same lines. Housebound and Horny. Pulling back from his thoughts, he saw Dabb smirking at him. Two girls in the photo, but no wife. It could be nothing, but something told Logan the glint in Dabb’s eyes meant they batted on the same side. He knew better than to ask his PO, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted to.

  Dabb cleared his throat. “Having successfully completed your first month on probation, you won’t need to come back here for another three months, provided you continue to attend the AA meetings and successfully complete the anger management class. And avoid getting your ass arrested. We’ll scale back the phone check-ins to once every three weeks. But that doesn’t mean I won’t randomly show up at your work or your apartment.” He picked up a minibag of M&M’s and tossed it to Logan. “Stay out of trouble and call me if problems arise.”

  “Will do,” Logan said, rising to his feet. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Thanks.”

  WHEN THE phone rang, Caleb glanced at the clock, noticing the late hour before answering it. It was Logan on the line. Remembering yesterday’s scheduled meeting, Caleb put the book he had been reading on the nightstand. “Did everything go all right with your parole officer?”

  Logan’s deep sigh did nothing to alleviate Caleb’s unease. After an eternity, Logan said, “I woulda rather stayed with you, but it went okay.”

  “I’m glad,” Caleb said, feeling his face heat up. “That it went okay.” He recalled his conversation with his neighbor when he had returned from Daniel’s apartment. “Mrs. Simon says ‘time’s up’, but she refused to tell me for what.”

  “She said that when you took her the grandma cookies?”

  “Yeah, after she had me deliver Tiny to a guy on the fifth floor that’s going to watch him,” Caleb said, feeling ridiculously proud of himself for holding it together long enough to deliver the cat. Hell, he managed better than Daniel.

  “Is that right?”

  Caleb thought Logan’s voice sounded strange, more serious. Maybe he’s tired and not looking to hear about my pathetic success. “I should let you sleep. I know how long your day was.”

  “Not until you tell me about the guy you met.”

  Caleb shrugged and then realized Logan couldn’t see him. “Seemed nice enough”—for a fish killer—”and Mrs. Simon sings his praises.”

  “Gay or straight?”

  Caleb blinked several times. “How would I know? I talked to him for less than ten minutes.”

  “Knew about you that first day.”

  “Really?” Am I that obvious? He chewed on his bottom lip, consoling himself with the knowledge Logan was the most gorgeous guy he had seen in the flesh. Who wouldn’t drool over him?

  “I’d bet money I don’t have that that biddy is scheming to hook you up with the guy. No straight man’s gonna volunteer to cat-sit an old lady’s pet.”

  Caleb laughed. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

  “Was he pretty?”

  A picture of Daniel when he had first opened the door popped into Caleb’s mind. “Um….” He heard a low grumbling sound. Pulling back the receiver, he looked at the phone before putting it back against his ear. “Did you just growl?”

  “I don’t wanna talk about Mr. Fifth Floor anymore.”

  Caleb grinned. Was Logan actually jealous? “You know, you’re starting to slack on the job. You forgot to ask me about my sex life yesterday.” In a flash, he remembered the moment in the kitchen. The heat he saw in Logan’s eyes and the warmth of his mouth. He dragged his attention back to what Logan was saying.

  “You little shit. I just got out of the shower and you’re gonna send me right back in there.”

  It took a moment for Caleb’s brain to process the words. “Are you saying….” He covered his face with his hand. “You’re going to….”

  Logan chuckled. “Get off thinking about you? Oh yeah, but it’s up to you whether you listen.”

  “I don’t think I can do it,” Caleb blurted out.

  “Get off?”

  “Talk about, uh, stuff. I’ve never done it on the phone.”

  “But you have done it with a guy, right?” Logan asked quietly.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah.” Four years ago. But Logan didn’t need to know that.

  “We can just talk. We don’t have to do nothing, baby.”

  Caleb blew out a slow breath. Logan giving him permission to back down eased his growing anxiety. It made it easier to go forward. “So,” he started, feeling ridiculous. “What are you wearing?” He smiled when Logan gave a throaty chuckle in response.

  Caleb heard what sounded like the bedsprings squeak as Logan said, “Too hot to get dressed.” He sighed as he settled into place. “Are you wearing those tight sweatpants?”

  “They’re not that tight.”

  He made a sound of appreciation. “Tight enough for me to know you don’t wear nothing underneath.”

  Caleb was sure his face would burst into flames any second. Hearing rustling, he closed his eyes and visualized Logan leaning back on the bed, dark eyes hooded, towel wrapped loosely around his hips as water dripped down the length of his hard chest. Yum.

  Logan’s voice in his ear sounded low and rough. “Take off your shirt, but leave those sweatpants on. I want to hear you come all over them.”

  Caleb couldn’t believe they were about to do this. The thought sent shivers of anticipation and trepidation riding down his spine. “Hold on, let me get something.” After taking off his T-shirt, he reached into the nightstand and took out a bottle of lube. Placing the bottle next to the phone, he snapped the cap.

  “Oh, fuck,” Logan said, “was that lube?”

  “Yep,” Caleb said, as he squirted a dab into the palm of his hand, “and I have you to thank for helping me get it.” Logan’s strangled curse was particularly satisfying. Caleb wished he were brave enough to mention the condoms Min had snuck into the bag.

  Closing his eyes, Caleb snaked his hand into his sweatpants. He pressed his lips together as his fingers curled around his hardening erection. He let his fingers twist and glide along his length, relishing the feel of warm skin and wet friction. What would it feel like to have Logan’s strong hands on me? His breathing grew shallow as he began to squeeze his cock lightly, then harder, moving his hand up and down the velvet-smooth flesh pulsing against his fingers. The cloth restr
icted his movement, forcing him to go more slowly than he wanted. He hesitated, unsure what to do next. Licking his lips, he said, “Tell me what you like.”

  “Are you asking me to talk dirty to you?” Logan asked, his voice one part amusement and two parts growl.

  Caleb’s heartbeat sped, breath hitching in his chest. “Please.”

  “Do you want to hear about how I want to shove my cock into you?” Logan asked, his voice velvet-edged and strong. “How I want to ride you until you can’t walk? How I wish it was my hand on you, making you come?”

  “Oh, God,” Caleb said, gripping the receiver so tight his fingers ached.

  Logan’s groans of “So good, so good” made Caleb’s balls tighten in response and he quickened his pace. The sound of slapping flesh became louder and more erratic. Caleb panted into the mouthpiece and pumped harder, ignoring the stickiness clinging to his pants. Full and hot, his balls tightened against his body, ready to burst as he stroked himself again and again. Within seconds, Caleb released a guttural groan, coming in his hand, seed soaking his sweats.

  Moments later, Logan cried out, Caleb’s name on his lips. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes.

  “Good night,” murmured Logan. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Night,” Caleb said, before ending the call. His sweatpants were damp and sticking to his leg, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the mess. He quickly wiped his hand and groin with his T-shirt and turned off the light. He fell asleep easily.

  ON FRIDAY, Caleb woke when the morning sun found the gap in the curtains and attacked his eyeballs with a sharp ray of sunlight. Squinting, he peered at the bedside clock and groaned when he realized it was well past eight. Logan would be here in less than half an hour. Caleb felt a wave of sympathy for Logan. He had already been at work for hours, and Caleb was still lazing around in bed. He dragged himself from the warmth of the covers and cringed when he saw the state he was in. He would be lucky to get the pants off without giving himself a bikini wax. He needed a shower desperately.

  Caleb entered the bathroom, turned on the shower, and adjusted the spray until it was scorching hot, the way he liked it. Considering the late morning hour, he needed to move quickly before the hot water ran out. He peeled himself out of the pants, wincing when he lost hairs in the process. That’s what you get for not cleaning up after phone sex, he thought as he stepped into the shower stall. He felt his cheeks flush and not from the billowing steam and near scalding water. He couldn’t believe he’d had phone sex. With Logan. Who would be arriving in a matter of minutes. God, what if he regrets it? What if we sit there in awkward silence?

  Caleb leaned his forehead against the wall, his vision clouding and his legs and arms tingling and distant. A crush of emotions and thoughts rushed through him and he felt the fear build in his chest. Time drifted and shifted, leaving him feeling dizzy. Until the hot water decided it had had enough.

  “Fuck!” Caleb leapt backwards away from the icy spray. One foot landed on a soapy tile. He skidded, lost his balance. His arms windmilled, and he snatched at the shower curtain. The blue-checkered fabric ripped under his weight, the curtain hooks popping off the rod as he tumbled forward. He fell halfway out of the shower, his upper body crashing against the edge of the toilet and his head cracking against the cabinet. Letting out a short, harsh gasp of pain, he rotated his body away from the toilet, cradling his arm against his chest. The pulsing pain shooting up his arm and elbow battled with the throbbing ache in his head.

  His vision blurred and he thought about getting to the phone to call Logan. Rapidly, thoughts flooded through his mind in a blinding whirl. What if the door jams and I’m stuck in here forever? What if my arm’s broken and I end up crippled? Or it turns gangrene and they want to cut it off? His stomach churned and his head spun. He was going to be sick. With his good arm, he pulled himself to his knees and flipped open the lid of the toilet. The universe blinked out of existence. He was there for two minutes, or maybe it was ten, wracked with cramps and spasms. God, would they ever end? The thought made him retch again, while every muscle and bone in his arm cried out in protest.

  The terror immobilized him. So he went still, lying on the torn curtain while the cold spray splashed out of the shower onto his legs and back. A familiar sound rang in the distance. It was an important sound, but he couldn’t latch on to it. The universe blanked out again.

  LOGAN STEPPED back from the door, hands on his hips. No answer. He took out his cell phone and dialed Caleb’s number. His unease increased as Caleb’s phone repeatedly rang before going to voice mail. He hit the End button on the phone. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled up Klass’s number and hit Send. His boss sounded harried when he answered the phone.

  “I’m at Caleb’s place, but he’s not answering.”

  Klass’s voice seemed temporarily muted as though he were switching the phone from one ear to another. “When did you last see him?”

  Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “Saw him on Wednesday and talked to him on the phone yesterday.”

  Logan heard a murmured woman’s voice. Klass agreed with what she said before continuing. “You say you called him?” He paused. “Why exactly?”

  “Just checking in ’cause I couldn’t stick around too long on Wednesday like I usually do.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Sellers.”

  “Weren’t no big deal. He’s a good guy.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” Klass said, sounding downcast. “Did he mention anything unusual happening when you talked with him yesterday?”

  Oh fuck. He was glad Klass couldn’t see his face. “Uh… he mentioned visiting Mrs. Simon at her place and carrying her cat to a neighbor on the fifth floor.” And then we had phone sex.

  “Ah, that explains it,” Klass said, sounding like he’d solved a mystery. “When he pushes himself to break his patterns, it can be upsetting to him. He tends to retreat, needing time to recover. It’s best if we give him that time.”

  Logan privately thought letting Caleb slide backwards after he made progress seemed like the wrong approach, but what did he know? He wondered if Klass knew about the trips out they’d taken. Caleb had made it all the way to Meng’s without freaking out, but maybe it was different going up the stairs with only a fat cat for company. “So you want me to just leave?”

  “Yes, let’s give him the weekend. If he doesn’t answer the door on Monday, you can use my spare key.”

  Logan wanted to argue, but maybe Klass was right. The idea of meeting Dabb in his own apartment made Caleb shake and stutter. Dealing with the old bird’s attempt at matchmaking was bound to be stressful. Yeah, right. Blame the old lady and not the fact that you went from one kiss to phone sex. Caleb was probably hiding in his place, too embarrassed to answer the door. The request had been impulsive and more than a little possessive. The idea of Caleb meeting some hot guy had bothered him more than he wanted to admit. He’d wanted to stake his claim on Caleb in a way his curfew didn’t allow. The result had been too fucking hot for him to regret it, but he could acknowledge, if only to himself, the reason behind it. He’d have to wait and see if Caleb regretted it.

  LOGAN OPENED the door to his apartment and made his way inside. He stood in the middle of the room for a full minute before turning around and heading back out. He’d go crazy if he stayed here. He needed a distraction, something to keep his mind off Caleb. It wasn’t until he started AA he realized so much of his life revolved around booze. Watching football at a local pub, playing pool, and even slaughtering his buddies at poker were all just excuses to get plastered. So what the hell do I do now? He could go for a run around the lake if he wanted to experience a heat stroke. Not for the first time, he wished he could afford a gym membership. Passive thinking, scolded the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Stacy. It was a valid point regardless. Caleb could probably help him find someone online interested in selling a set of used free weights. Assuming he ever speaks to me again
. Logan felt a pang of unease at having to wait until Monday to see him. He took out his cell phone and pulled up Caleb’s name from the contacts. He hesitated, finger poised over the Talk button. Sighing, he hit the End button and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

  Exiting the apartment building, Logan heard a man’s voice call out. A twitchy-looking guy with greasy hair and a backpack that looked like it weighed more than he did emerged from the narrow gap between buildings. Moving to block Logan’s path, Twitchy opened his mouth to speak.

  Logan stopped abruptly, holding his hand out to keep the guy at a distance. It wasn’t often that even the panhandlers approached him on the street. His size was usually enough of a deterrent. “Not interested,” he said, moving around the man.

  Twitchy sidestepped and blocked Logan’s path again. “Got me a li’l somethin’, right here, you wan’ it?” He held up a small bottle of what looked like scotch. “Only a fin and totally legit,” he said, showing off his broken yellow teeth in a manic smile.

  Logan snorted. Minibottles of booze were illegal to sell in Chicago. Twitchy had to have bought them in the ’burbs or online, assuming he’d actually paid for them instead of swiping them off the back of a truck. “You ain’t got nothing I want,” he told the man, wondering why his feet hadn’t gotten with the program. That the guy had stationed himself between a halfway apartment complex and the shelter down the street showed he knew how to spot an opportunity.

  Looking at the bottle Twitchy was waving back and forth, Logan remembered the message he’d scribbled on the packet of oatmeal for Caleb: “in case of emergencies.” Wouldn’t it be better to have a small amount of booze on hand if shit became too much instead of risking going to a bar or binge buying at the liquor store? He would only need to get through the weekend and then he could toss it. Just ’cause I buy it don’t mean I have to drink it. Logan fished out a ten from his wallet, handing it to Twitchy. He accepted the scotch, checking to make sure the seal was still in place. And then shoved it into the front pocket of his cargo shorts, not bothering to try to get change from the guy.