by Andrew Grey
Has anyone talked to you? Brent wrote.
“The police came to the hospital and asked me a bunch of questions, but they don’t know anything. They’re pissing in the dark and hoping they hit something.” Scott growled. “I just want all this to be over and my life to go back to the way it was, but that isn’t going to happen. I know that.” He smacked the sofa cushion. “Some asshole gets drunk, drives, and hurts someone else. He just drives away and nothing happens. What the fuck is fair about that?”
Brent could have told him that little in life was fair. Him losing his dad at fourteen certainly wasn’t fair. Yeah, he had the mom to end all moms. And she stepped up and tried to be both mom and dad to him. She learned baseball to help him with his throws and even helped coach one season when no one else would do it. When he was in ninth grade, they had a father/son thing at school and his mom showed up. At first he’d been mortified, but all the kids seemed to take it in stride, especially when another kid brought one of his mothers, because he had two. Brent’s mom had stepped up as much as she could, but nothing was going to make up for the fact that his dad was gone, just like nothing was going to make up for what the idiot who had hit Scott and changed his life forever had done.
I wish I had an answer for you, he wrote. I hope they catch him and hang him by his balls.
“What if it was a woman?” Scott asked.
Then they can hang her by something else, as long as they make her pay. And I mean pay for a very long time. This was a lot for anyone to have to go through, and dammit, someone else was responsible.
Scott seemed drained, leaning back. “All I want is for whoever did this to know what they did and have to look me in the eyes. They need to be able to see and understand what their stupidity and callousness brought onto someone else. Oh, and I’d really like to kick them in the nuts!”
Brent couldn’t argue with him. What kind of car was it?
Scott got up and went to the kitchen and returned with a piece of paper. “A red Chevy Malibu, about 2005 or 2006. At least that’s what they think, but it could be any GM car from that period. I can’t believe that no one saw it or could help. There are cars that go by there all the time. But apparently by the time people stopped to help me, the car was already gone.”
Brent slid closer, wanting to comfort but not knowing how. This was pain right there, raw and livid, and what Scott needed was time to heal and deal with it. Which completely sucked, because he shouldn’t have to go through this crap in the first place. Brent figured all he could do was be there and support him. Give yourself a break and try to relax a little.
“Now you sound like my mother,” Scott retorted. At least he said it with a smile. Scott leaned forward to hug him, and heat shot through Brent like a bullet. Since Scott had been hurt, Brent had been hugging him to give comfort, but this was the first time Scott had initiated contact. And it nearly sent Brent over the edge as Scott held him tighter, clutching him. When Scott pulled away a little, Brent wasn’t sure what he had in mind. Their eyes met and everything became perfectly clear. Scott leaned closer, parting his lips.
Brent held his breath, stilling. Scott needed to be the one to come the last distance. He wasn’t going to push, no matter how much he wanted to. Scott came closer, hesitated, looking toward the kitchen door, then closed the distance between them.
Scott’s lips were sweet, smooth, and hard, and he was one hell of a kisser. Where he’d learned was a mystery that Brent intended to solve, because he felt that kiss to his toes. Damn, he was on fire, and Scott became more insistent, getting carried away. Brent didn’t want this to end, but he placed his hand gently on Scott’s shoulder and patted him a few times to get his attention. Scott backed up, eyes dancing, lips curling into a grin. He looked toward the door once more and then laughed. It was a joyous sound, and maybe it meant that Scott had let go of some of his hurt, at least for a while.
Carolyn swept into the room, and Scott blinked as he looked up at her. Brent hoped what they’d just done wasn’t written all over his face.
“Everything is fine, Mom. I’m okay. You can stop worrying now.” He sat back. “I’m tired, but I’m not an invalid and I’ve been resting for most of the day.”
“Scott is fine,” Reggie said from behind her. “Come on. Let’s you and I go for a walk down to the park. You could use some fresh air. I think Scott and Brent will be okay here for a while.” He flashed Scott a smile.
“It’s all right,” Brent said, turning to Scott and picking up the pad. I should go so you can rest. But please come down to the garage for a visit. I know that everyone there would very much like to see you. He basked in the glow of Scott’s gaze. Brent was fairly sure Reggie was offering to take Carolyn out of the house so they could have a few minutes to talk alone, but from her nervousness, she wasn’t too happy about it. Though he didn’t think she objected to him and Scott figuring out if there was anything between them. Brent hoped Carolyn was just being a protective mother.
“Watch a movie with me,” Scott offered. “I use the subtitles, but it gives me something to do that feels normal. That is unless you really have to go somewhere.” He seemed miserable, and Brent wasn’t going to leave him alone.
He nodded. “We can watch whatever you like,” Brent said, forgetting Scott’s deafness for a moment.
“We’ll go for that walk, and I’ll make you some popcorn when we get back,” Carolyn said.
Brent made sure Scott understood the plan, then sat back as Scott found a movie and placed it in the DVD player. Carolyn and Reggie left the room, and soon the back door opened and closed. He and Scott were alone, and Brent slipped a hand into his.
“You know, we could do more than watch a movie,” Scott said. Brent reached for the notepad, but Scott stilled him. “I hate those things and the fact that no one can talk to me without one. I can’t sit here and whisper things with you.”
Brent nodded and waited until Scott reached for the notepad. But you’re still healing, and I think we need to spend some time together outside of work.
“Don’t you want to be with me?” Scott asked, speaking fast and more loudly.
Brent wrote quickly. Of course I do. I stayed away all that time because… I thought it was the right thing to do. You have your whole life ahead of you, and I’m quite a bit older. Sometimes he felt like an old man.
Scott caught his gaze, staring into him. “I’m not a kid, and I know my own mind.” The words were harsh, but then his expression softened. “Do you still think I have my whole life ahead of me? Sometimes I wonder what kind of life I can have now.” He lowered his head. “Working on cars is as much about sound as it is about what things look like. I honestly don’t know how I can do my job. I know it’s possible—I’ve seen how Lee works—but it’s hard to imagine right now.” He scratched the side of his head near the bandages. “I hate these things. They say they’ll take them off on my next visit. Apparently it’s a precaution, but they make my head itch sometimes.”
Maybe it’s your hair growing back.
“Probably. I got a look at myself in the mirror when they were changing the bandages. I look awful.”
Brent smiled and leaned closer to scribble on the pad that Scott looked amazing no matter what, then gently kissed the base of his neck. Scott tasted of warmth, salty and yet slightly sweet at the same time. Scott groaned deep in his throat, a sound Brent was certain was involuntary. When he shifted back, Brent glanced to Scott’s lap, the prominent bulge unmistakable and enticing.
“Do you see me as breakable?” Scott asked.
Brent shook his head.
“Then, we’re alone and….” Scott drew out the last word, letting it hang in the air.
Brent was growing to hate the notepad as well. The words were flat, when what he wanted to say and the words he needed to use could carry so much meaning. So instead he took Scott’s hand and placed it on his thigh, letting Scott see his excitement as well. He closed his eyes as a wave of heat jolted right through him jus
t from that simple touch. Brent had longed for this for two years, and his entire being screamed out for him to take what Scott was offering. Brent’s heart raced, blood pounding in his ears. He wondered if Scott would feel the same sensation. There were many things he wondered about.
You’re recovering. He gently traced one of the bandages on Scott’s head. I will not hurt you.
“But if you’re careful.”
Brent grinned and grabbed the pad. When I am finally with you in bed and have you under my body and am able to feel all of you, every inch that I’ve dreamed of and fantasized about for years, I won’t be able to contain myself. I want you… all of you. Brent could hardly believe he was writing all this down. He looked up from the page, Scott’s intense gaze boring into him. I want to make you scream even if you can’t hear it, and I want you to shake and shiver as I fill you. I want you to cling to me with everything you have as I hold you as tightly as I can, not letting an inch of space come between us. Brent swallowed hard as he wrote and said the words in unison. He ripped off the page and handed it to Scott, whose hands shook as he read it, eyes widening, peering over the page, licking his lips, and swallowing hard.
“Brent, I….” His lips continued moving even if he made no sound, and Brent leaned close to capture them in a kiss that seared its way through him. Scott wrapped his arms around Brent’s neck, pulling them tight, their kiss deepening to black-hole depths, threatening to swallow them both in an instant. Brent was seconds away from letting it happen.
He pulled back and then gently smoothed his hand across Scott’s rough cheek. They needed to slow down, because Brent’s control was becoming tenuous. He stood, tempted to tug Scott to his feet, take him by the hand, and lead him down the hall to his bedroom. But that wasn’t in the cards, not for tonight. Brent had to cool down. He motioned to the television.
“You want to watch the movie?” Scott asked, in disbelief.
Brent snatched the paper off the table. It’s either that or I’m going to have my way with you, and when your mom and dad come home, they’ll know exactly what we’ve been doing. Brent stifled a smile at Scott’s blushing cheeks. He dropped the pad, turned on the television, and handed Scott the remote so they could go ahead and watch Rogue One.
“I know this movie pretty well.” The subtitles were on, and Scott settled back to watch. Brent sat on one end of the sofa so Scott could have the rest, but soon Scott shifted to nestle up against him, lying down as he watched.
By the time Carolyn and Reggie returned, it was nearly dark outside and Scott’s breathing had evened out. Brent suspected he was asleep.
“Did you have a good talk?” Carolyn asked.
“Yes.” Brent didn’t go into anything more than that. He folded the pages they’d written and placed them in his pocket. What they’d talked about was between the two of them, and Brent wanted Scott to be able to trust him. “Did you have a good walk?”
She nodded. “I think it was what I needed. A chance to get out of here and relax for a while.” She leaned on the frame of the doorway to the kitchen. “I’ll make some popcorn.” Carolyn left, and Brent wondered if that was necessary. But as soon as the scent wafted into the room, Scott’s eyes fluttered open and he sat up, licking his lips.
Carolyn brought in a huge bowl of popcorn and set it on the table. She returned with a couple sodas and some napkins. Before she’d left the room, Scott plopped the popcorn bowl onto his chest and started eating. “If you want some, you better get it while the getting is good,” Carolyn warned him as Scott steadily dug into the popcorn. Brent would have sworn Scott had been starving for days.
Brent took some and popped a few kernels in his mouth as Scott returned his attention to the screen and absently shoveled the popcorn.
When the bowl was about half gone, Brent snatched it off Scott’s belly and set it on his lap. Scott stretched for it, but Brent held the bowl out of his reach. “What gives?”
Brent set the bowl away and grabbed the pad. You got yours and now this is my part. He ate slowly, and Scott gaped at him.
“I usually eat that much alone.”
Piggy? Brent scrawled and tossed the notepad at Scott. Then he returned to his share of the popcorn, this time not stopping Scott as he stole handfuls. At least Scott wasn’t eating like the house was on fire.
“Do you mind if we change the film?” Scott asked, and Brent motioned for him to do what he wanted. He was just happy to sit with him and have someone to spend some time with. Scott changed the DVD to The Man Who Knew Infinity, and Brent quickly became engrossed in the story of an early twentieth-century math genius. Scott sat up and then leaned against him as they finished off the popcorn and their sodas.
By the time the movie ended, it was late. Brent thanked Reggie and Carolyn for everything as he brought the dishes to the kitchen. Then he returned to where Scott waited for him on the sofa and kissed him gently.
This was the best first date I’ve had in years, Brent wrote, handed the pad to Scott, then kissed him again and headed out to his car.
He drove back to his apartment, smiling the entire way. As he went inside and was locking the door, his phone chimed.
Good night and thank you. It was a wonderful evening. :)
Yes, it was. Maybe we can do it again sometime. When you’re feeling better, you can come here. Brent thought what that kind of evening would bring and closed his eyes, letting his imagination run wild with images of what Scott might look like under his clothes. Brent had a pretty fertile imagination, but it failed him this time. He couldn’t image Scott naked because he didn’t want to guess—he wanted the reality more than anything else.
I was hoping we could do something on Sunday when the garage is closed. Even if it’s just going to breakfast.
The words made Brent smile. That would be wonderful. He set his phone on the nightstand and undressed, getting ready for bed. He’d stayed up way too late and needed to be to work early, but he didn’t regret a second of the best evening he’d had in a long time.
Chapter 4
SCOTT WOKE from a sound sleep to the scent of bacon. His stomach growled, and he rolled over to check the clock. It was before eight on Sunday and that meant his mother would be making her full-on breakfast, with enough food for a week. He pushed back the covers, got out of bed, and pulled on shorts and a T-shirt before wandering out to the kitchen.
“I have breakfast plans this morning.”
His mother set down her spatula and turned, glaring at him with the wrath of God. “Church,” she mouthed. Scott was able to read a few words, especially when he expected them.
“I’m not going.” He turned away, but his mother caught his shoulder.
“Yes, you are.” She pointed to a chair. He knew the drill. If you live under our roof… and all that. She got a pad. They have a mass at nine that is signed for the deaf. It will do you good to go. There are other deaf members of the parish, and it would be good for you to meet them.
Scott knew she was trying to help, but it made him angry nonetheless. He had no intention of stepping back into a church with the holier-than-thous. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at her, and then left the room. He had plans and wasn’t going to change them. Scott dressed and got ready to go.
As he stepped out of the bedroom, his father was waiting. “Are you here to make me go?” Scott asked more harshly than he intended.
His dad shook his head. “You are an adult.” His dad spoke slowly, but Scott shrugged, so his dad searched for a pad. Scott barely managed to contain his frustrated sigh. He grabbed one from his room and waited for his father to write what he wanted.
Your mother never asks you for very much, and she’s been up for an hour so none of us will be late. He tore the page from the notebook and turned to walk away.
Damn it all. Scott hated when they used guilt on him. He groaned and got his phone from his room to text Brent to see if they could have lunch instead of breakfast. He explained what was happening and why he was g
oing. To his shock Brent asked which church and agreed to meet them there.
I want to meet the interpreter, as well as the others, so I can better understand you.
The text had Scott gasping in disbelief.
You’re going to come to church with me? Voluntarily? Are you really that wonderful or just plain crazy? Scott had to ask. He hated church, and now he was going to have to sit in a pew while everything happened around him. Just because they had a mass that was signed didn’t mean anything. He didn’t understand sign language, so it wasn’t going to do him the least bit of good. Instead, he was going to be sitting there, cut off from everything and everyone, waiting for the ordeal to be over.
Let’s go with crazy.
Scott smiled and messaged him the church and the time.
I’ll meet you there.
Instantly Scott felt better about this whole ordeal and went to change.
He returned to the kitchen and ate some breakfast, but he wasn’t really all that hungry—to his mother’s clear disappointment. Scott hoped that he and Brent would still have some sort of plans, maybe for lunch, and he didn’t want to fill up too much. After eating, they all got into the family Buick, with his father driving, and headed to church.
Scott sat in the back seat, staring as familiar homes and streets passed outside the car. The silence seemed overwhelming a lot of the time, and there was nothing he could do but try to fill his own head with his voice. He was getting tired of it.
The ride didn’t take long—nothing was very far away in this densely populated community—and they pulled into their usual spot. Scott told his mom and dad that he was waiting for Brent and would be in. Then he stood off to the side of the main doors, waving at people he knew as they passed. The congregation was huge, with four masses on Sundays and one on Saturday evenings just to meet the demand.
Scott recognized Brent’s old car when it pulled into the lot, and then followed Brent with his eyes as he got out and approached. He cleaned up well in simple dress pants and a white shirt that flowed over his lean muscles like water. It was open at the collar, and as Brent got closer, the strip of skin from his neck down to the gap in the shirt flashed and glowed in the sun. Scott couldn’t move. Others passed in front of him, but Scott ignored them as mere shadows. His smile radiated light rivaling the sun’s, big enough for the edges to extend to the corners of his eyes. When Brent reached him, he stopped and nodded. Someone jostled Scott from behind, and he took a step forward to balance himself. Brent caught him, holding him up as he turned.