Heart Unheard

by Andrew Grey

  Eventually Scott stood, gingerly stepped over the wet ground to the wheel, and placed his hands in the stream of water. It felt good, and he wriggled his fingers, getting them wet, then filled his hands and tossed the water at Brent, who jumped back. Scott grinned and did it again.

  He had no idea what Brent said, but water flew at him, and Scott laughed, deep, full, and from his soul. For once he didn’t care that he had no idea what he sounded like. All that mattered was having a little fun, and damn, he was happy. More water flew his way, and he splashed Brent in return, laughing like a complete idiot and having a good time.

  Brent raced to him, and his arms encircled Scott’s waist, holding him carefully.

  Scott stood carefully, turning in Brent’s embrace until he faced him. “It’s beautiful here. Your dad helped make it that way.”

  Tears filled Brent’s eyes as he nodded, and then Brent kissed him, holding him tight. Scott wound his arms around Brent, supporting him. The kiss was hot, toe-curling, but there was something under it, something deeper and more urgent. Need, care, companionship, and a void of compassion that begged to be filled. Those ideas filled Scott’s head, and he tightened his hold, supporting Brent the way Brent had done for him.

  Scott didn’t want this to end, but his energy was fading quickly and he was going to need to lie down and probably take a pain pill. “We should walk back to your apartment. I’m really getting tired.”

  Brent shifted and gently led him away from the water, supporting part of his weight as he led him to the path and back the way they’d come. They walked slowly, and Scott was grateful when they reached the door to Brent’s apartment.

  Brent unlocked it and then guided him to the sofa. Scott lay down, closing his eyes, his tense muscles in his chest and back loosening up within seconds, the soreness fading quickly. Brent pressed a cold can into his hand, and Scott sipped the Coke, letting the coolness coat his parched throat.

  “Thank you for taking me there.” Scott sighed. “I can go home if you need me to leave.”

  The cushion next to him dipped, and Scott cracked his eyes open. Instantly the world brightened, and when Brent smiled, it was as if the sun came from behind a cloud. Scott had to smile in return. Brent slowly stroked his arm, soothing, caring, and surprisingly intimate.

  “I take it you want me to stay?”

  Brent nodded deliberately and leaned forward to kiss him firmly, stoking the fire that had simmered below the surface all afternoon. The flame flared to life in seconds. Unfortunately Scott was too tired to do anything about it. And he was afraid, if he were truthful. Getting excited was one thing, but his bones were still healing, and what if he injured something again? He didn’t want to end up back in the hospital. Still, he returned the kiss, holding Brent because it felt amazing, and he didn’t feel alone. Brent didn’t make him feel as though he was on the outside looking in.

  Brent’s breath ghosted over his ear, and then he pulled away. You rest for a while. Brent patted Scott’s arm, then stood, sat in the chair next to Scott’s feet, and pulled a book up off the floor. He opened it, flashing a smile at Scott over the pages, and Scott took another drink of soda, then set the can on the table and closed his eyes again, letting sleep wash over him.

  IT SURPRISED Scott that he felt comfortable enough to sleep. Since losing his hearing, he hadn’t slept particularly well. Scott would have thought just the opposite, with no sounds to wake him, but he found he was more nervous than he expected and would bolt upright a few times during the night just to check what time it was. His mother had ordered an alarm clock that flashed lights instead of made noise, but that didn’t do a lot of good for him, particularly if he happened to be facing the other way, so he woke himself up just so he wouldn’t lose track of the time. Yeah, it sounded weird, but it was a way of compensating for having lost part of the way he functioned.

  Scott opened his eyes and glanced around. Brent still sat in the chair, reading. Scott checked his watch, realizing he’d been asleep for an hour and that he felt better. He carefully sat up, and Brent stood, retrieved his soda from the refrigerator, and placed it back on the coaster on the coffee table.

  “That was nice. Thank you.”

  Brent set the pad on the table and took a seat next to him. You were tired and needed to rest. It was no problem. I want you to be happy.

  “I want to be happy, and I want that for you too.” Scott leaned against Brent. It had been a while since he had been happy. Somehow the driver of the car that hit him had taken away his ability to be truly happy, as well as his hearing. And in Scott’s mind, that needed to change. He couldn’t give a nameless person that kind of power. If he did, then he’d never be able to move past this, and he didn’t want to be unhappy for the rest of his life.

  Scott leaned on Brent’s shoulder and sighed, smiling as Brent stroked his cheek. He hadn’t shaved in a few hours and his cheeks were most likely rough, but Brent didn’t seem to mind. Brent turned his head slowly and then leaned in to kiss him.

  His lips were gentle at first but became more demanding, the kiss deeper. Brent’s tongue traced the outline of Scott’s lips and then slid between them, taking possession. Scott leaned back, holding Brent in case he flew apart. Energy raced through him, and he held Brent tighter, returning the heat Brent sent to him measure for measure. He tried to hold still but failed as his entire body shook. His need for Brent grew by the second, and when Brent gently pressed him back onto the cushions, he went willingly, easily, clutching at Brent’s back, trying to tug his shirt up and out of the way.

  Brent lifted Scott’s shirt, tugging the tails out of his pants, and then undid the buttons. He parted the fabric and pushed it to the side, baring Scott’s chest to him for the first time. Brent kissed his belly and up his side, avoiding his recent scars. They were so sensitive and still a little raw. Though Brent did gently caress the puckered skin, he moved on, driving Scott crazy with his gentle caresses.

  “I know I can’t hear you. But just so you know, you’re driving me crazy.”

  Brent raised his head, smiling wickedly, like he knew exactly what he was doing. Damn, Brent was beautiful. His eyes shone, and Scott caressed his cheeks, bringing his mouth closer to Brent’s, closing the distance between them, bringing them together in a searing kiss. He slid his hands down Brent’s back, tugged his shirt up until Brent pulled away, taking off his shirt, and then they were skin to skin, chest to chest, heat to heat.

  Scott heard no words. He didn’t need them. Brent made him feel alive, and being deaf didn’t matter, because Brent cared for him. They didn’t even have their pants off, and Scott was already flying, alive and excited beyond belief.

  Brent lifted himself up to stand next to the sofa and extended his hand. Scott took it, and Brent led him to the bedroom and then down onto the bed, treating him as though he were precious. Brent didn’t rush, but took his time, caressing Scott all over until he nearly set the sheets on fire. And when Brent did unfasten Scott’s pants and tug them down his legs, Scott was so excited and ready, he nearly lost it just from the caress of Brent’s hand on his inner thigh. He shook and whispered unsexy thoughts under his breath to keep himself from coming.

  When Brent kicked off his shoes and then turned around, opened his pants, and pushed them down over his tight butt, Scott’s control reached the breaking point. And when Brent faced him again, Scott bit his lower lip as Brent drew nearer.

  Brent climbed on the bed, the heat between them growing with each movement. He tugged him closer, kissed him, and rolled on the bed so Scott rested on top of Brent, who held him tight, hands roaming over his back and down to his butt to clutch him.

  “I never knew sex could be like this.” Scott paused, their gazes locking, and words failed him.

  Scott straddled Brent, holding him as their bodies moved together. Scott had to take it easy, but Brent matched him action for action as pressure built to the point where Scott could no longer contain it. He hadn’t thought of himself as a teenager
in a long time, but dammit, he felt like one at this moment. He was hard, tingly, and on the edge of a razor within seconds, and then tumbled over the other side with Brent following behind him, eyes and mouth wide open, ecstasy written all over his face, mirroring Scott’s own.

  Neither of them moved for a long while, reveling in the time for the two of them when the world didn’t matter and nothing could touch them.

  Chapter 5

  THE FOLLOWING morning Brent made sure all the guys knew what they were supposed to be doing for the day. A rather tricky problem had come in first thing, and he put Lee and Clyde on it, hoping Lee’s sensitive hearing would fish out the problem. Once he knew the guys were busy, he went to his office and began making calls. The first ones were to Trevor’s other garages to make sure they hadn’t worked on a car that met the description of the one that hit Scott.

  “I already checked,” Trevor’s dad, Larry, said. “I’ve been on the lookout myself.” Larry had married his girlfriend, Margaret, a year ago and was getting ready to retire and move to Florida.

  “How are the move plans coming?”

  “Awesome,” Larry said, sounded pleased. “Margaret and I found a house we like north of Tampa. It’s in a retirement community that isn’t too big. Margaret is really excited, and I think I’m going to be happy not to spend another winter here freezing my butt off.” He chuckled. “I think my last day working is going to be early October. That way Trevor can find someone to manage the garage in time.”

  “Sounds great. I’m jealous.”

  Larry snickered. “Kid, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. It’s too early to be thinking about retirement. Find yourself someone who will make you as happy as my first wife and now Margaret have made me.”

  “I’m trying, Larry. I really am.”

  Brent could almost see Larry rolling his eyes. “So you finally decided to man up and say something to Scott?” He sighed. “Sometimes it takes a real scare before we know what we really want.”

  “Yeah. But I still wonder if I’m doing the right thing. I am his supervisor and all, and I worry what some of the other guys will think.”

  Larry laughed. “You know that if it becomes a problem, we’d be more than happy to have Scott and Lee come here to work. Something like that is easily solved. Any of the garages would be thrilled to have them. So worry about what’s really important. Like helping that boy get through the hell he has to be enduring.” Larry sighed. “After they told me what happened, I tried to understand what he was going through. Margaret is getting hard of hearing and is going to need hearing aids. She’s fighting it with everything she has because it makes her feel old. I probably don’t hear the way I used to and all, but I think it would be hard not being able to hear at all like that.”

  “He’s doing remarkably well, I think. He’s already signed up for sign language classes with his parents, and I have also,” Brent said and swallowed hard.

  “But you’re nervous about it.”

  “Of course I am. I took Spanish in school and it was a complete disaster. I don’t remember a thing and barely passed the class.” Languages were most definitely not Brent’s strong suit. “And the sites I’ve been to say that picking up sign language is just as hard as learning any other new language.”

  “You can do it because you’re motivated and have reason to. What good was a teenager going to see in learning Spanish in the middle of Wisconsin? Next to nothing. It was a class to fill your schedule. Taking these classes is going to allow you to talk to someone you care about.” Larry had always been one of the most practical guys Brent knew. “Stop second-guessing yourself.”

  Man, he was much more of an open book than he thought he’d been. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Good. And I’ll keep my eyes out for a car like that. I made a few calls to some friends in the area, but I’ll call again just in case.” Larry rattled off the places so Brent would know. “You realize this is a long shot.”

  “Fifty to one, but I have to try. The police aren’t getting anywhere and it’s bothering Scott.” Hell, he’d move a mountain if it made Scott happy. “I’m going to get back to work.”

  “You do that, and I’ll let you know if I find out anything.” Larry said goodbye and ended the call.

  Brent took a few minutes and then began making more phone calls to everyone he knew in the business. He had contacts at various dealerships and phoned them to see if anyone had brought in a car meeting that description with front-end damage.

  “We had one,” Gary, an acquaintance from the Chevrolet dealership, told him. “That make, model, and color was brought in last week. Let me check on what was done.”

  “Thanks, Gary. I really appreciate the help.” Brent’s heart rate picked up as he thought of how lucky he might have gotten.

  “No problem….” Gary drew out the last word, attention elsewhere. “Oh. It was for a brake relining and oil change. There wasn’t any front-end damage. I’m sorry. Just normal maintenance for a car of that age.”

  “Okay, Gary. I appreciate it.” Brent hung up. He wondered if this was just a waste of time, but shook the thought away. No, he was doing it to help Scott and he’d spend every extra minute he had to do that. Brent sighed and moved down to the next places on his list.

  He didn’t have any further luck, though. Everyone said they hadn’t worked on a car like that in the past few weeks. He wasn’t getting anywhere. Maybe the owner just went home and parked the car in the garage until the heat was off. Who the hell knew.

  Brent pounded his fist on the top of his desk. He’d wanted to try to do something to help. He had to try. With a sigh he went back to the work he should have been doing. He had plenty, and should have known that he wasn’t going to randomly call a garage that just happened to be working on the car that hit Scott.

  How is your day so far? Scott texted him that afternoon.

  Good. I called a bunch of garages and no one had taken in the car that hit you, but I’m going to keep trying. And Larry says he’s going to ask the other managers to keep their eyes open.

  Thank you.

  Brent put aside the receipts he’d been reviewing. You’re welcome. Have the police said anything more?

  No. Mom and Dad called again this morning, and Dad got mad, yelling at them. At least I got to see him turn completely red, and I thought he might explode.

  That was understandable, as far as Brent was concerned. Sometimes the cops needed to be yelled at in order to get them moving. I’ll let you know if I find out anything. What are you doing this afternoon?

  Going crazy sitting on the couch. Mom gave one of her tirades about how I need to heal. I think she’s scared for me to go out or something. Brent could almost see Scott going stir-crazy. I got confirmation of my signing class. It starts in a few weeks.

  Me too, though I don’t know if I’m in the same class as you. Tuesday and Thursday nights. Brent sent the text and set his phone on the desk as Clyde passed by the window.

  “Lee and I got that car done. He zeroed in on the fuel injectors, and they were partially clogged. We cleaned them out and it’s purring like a kitten.” Clyde grinned. “What’s next?”

  “Take a look at the blue Corvette. It needs a full overhaul, and check the brakes. The owner says they’re sluggish, so be careful pulling it in.”

  “Will do.” Clyde closed the door, and Brent picked up his phone once again.

  That’s my class. I asked, and they said it was best if the people I was close to learned at the same time I did. Then we could all practice and learn from each other. Taking the classes will be good, but having someone to practice with is more helpful.

  Great. In two weeks some of the communication barriers between them would start to lower. Brent didn’t have any illusions that they would go away quickly, but making progress was good.

  How late do you have to work?

  Until closing. I have things I need to do, and I need the time to get them done. Brent was already tired, but not
unhappy about how he’d gotten that way. He and Scott had been up late, and then he had taken Scott home before going on to work.

  He knew what Scott was getting at, and his fingers itched to say that he’d be over after work to pick him up, but with the way Carolyn had met him on the porch that morning—her eyes had shot daggers at him—it was probably not a good idea. How about Wednesday? I can pick you up after work and we can go to dinner.

  You mean eat out?

  Sure :)

  I haven’t done that since the accident. What if someone… I don’t know.

  It’s okay. Brent hated Scott’s hesitancy. We can do whatever you want to do.

  Then, okay. Let’s do it. I’ll see you Wednesday. :)

  Now Brent just needed things to occupy his time until then. He set his phone on the desk and worked, head down, for the rest of the day before dragging himself home and dropping right into bed.

  “DARRYL, ARE you done for the day?” Brent asked late Wednesday afternoon.

  “What do you need?” Darryl looked up from where he was cleaning his tools. He was old-school. He kept his work area meticulously clean and his tools spotless. It was what he was known for, and woe be it to the guy who borrowed his tools without asking, or worse, without cleaning them afterward.

  “Can you stop at Wilson’s Body on your way home? They have a part for the Buick Skylark that we need to get it running again. It’s the only one I’ve been able to find in town, and they have it on hold for us.” Brent handed Darryl the sheet with the order on it. “They can send us an invoice. Just bring in the part when you come in tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing.” Darryl took the paperwork and put it in his pocket before returning to his task. Once he was done and everything was back where it belonged, he closed and locked his toolbox, left the garage to get into the pristine 1941 Buick that he’d restored to its black beauty perfection, and headed out. His car was the envy of everyone in the garage, including Brent. Every ounce of it was original or repaired with original parts, and he’d won contests with it.