by Trina Lane
Clay stood inside, still dressed for work, with the biggest smile he’d ever seen on the man’s face. Clay grabbed Logan’s hands and dragged him over to the TTY answering machine they’d purchased after that day at the bakery. The text machine was connected to the apartment’s cordless phone and gave him the freedom to make and receive calls through the relay network. It also acted as a text answering machine.
At first, he thought someone might have been on the phone for him, but he saw the message light blinking. He looked at Clay and wondered what the big deal was.
Clay held up the cordless phone, and Logan saw that the last incoming call recorded on the caller ID was from the VA. His heart tripped over itself for a couple of beats. This could be very good or very bad. His finger trembled as he reached for the menu button to access the stored message. Clay stood behind him, looking over his shoulder as the message scrolled across the screen.
This is Kelly from the VA. I’m calling to let you know you’ve been approved for two cochlear implants. Please call me to set up your first appointment.
Clay spun Logan around and wrapped him tight in his arms. The feel of Clay’s muscled frame against him short circuited his brain. His mind went blank and his body numb. He should be jumping and screaming with joy, but now that his claim had finally been approved, all that he could focus on was how fast his heart was beating, sending blood raging through his veins where it landed in his groin. His cock thickened as he inhaled the scent of Clay’s aftershave.
Logan tilted his hips back in hope that, in Clay’s exuberance, he wouldn’t notice Logan’s hard-on. When he realised his secret wasn’t quite out of the closet yet, a smile blossomed across his face. The implants were approved! He couldn’t believe it. He was actually going to be able to hear again. He wrapped his arms around Clay’s neck and held on as the man lifted him up, swinging him around in a circle. He could hear loud sounds coming out of Clay’s mouth but had no idea what the man was actually saying. It didn’t matter, not now. He was approved!
Clay placed Logan back on the floor and looked into his eyes. “We’re going out to celebrate.”
Logan nodded his head. He saw Clay begin to say something else but stop before any words crossed his lips. He wanted to go out and celebrate the amazing news and figured it would be a good opportunity to come clean with Clay.
He took out his smartphone and sent Clay a text message. “Sel de la Terre on the wharf?”
Clay’s had his phone ready and read Logan’s text. He quickly nodded then typed back. “Perfect I’ll call for a reservation.” Clay connected to the internet, found the phone number then clicked the link to make the call.
Logan watched as Clay spoke into the phone and smiled when Clay gave him a thumbs up. Clay hung up and looked at him.
“We need to leave. They got us a table in thirty minutes.”
Logan lifted his laptop case over his head and set it on the countertop. In all the excitement, he’d never put it down after coming in the door. He stopped quickly in the bathroom to take care of business and gave himself a quick pep talk in preparation for the confession later.
The mirror reflected two dark blue eyes staring back at him. On the outside, one would never know how broken he’d been only a couple of months ago. His appearance was like any other thirty-six year old. There were a few lines on the side of his eyes from squinting into the sun for too long. His hair had yet to show any signs of grey, despite the way he felt each and every one of his years, and then some, more often than not. He had definitely lost some of the bulk he’d had when active but was still in good shape. He had more than a few scars on his body, but most of them were hidden under his clothes.
He looked down at his hands. Hands that had shed blood and staunched the flow of the same from leaving a buddy’s body. Hands that had caressed a lover and beaten an enemy.
He looked at the closed door to the bathroom and pictured Clay standing out there waiting for him. It was time.
* * * *
Clay thanked the hostess as she placed the leather-backed menus on their table. He glanced at the selections for a moment and decided to go with the rib eye with rosemary pommes frites. Beside them was a huge mural of a village. The display lighting made their table a little brighter than ones in the middle of the restaurant, which would help Logan see his face better. Clay looked across the table and gave Logan a smile. Logan’s pearly whites flashed and Clay’s heart skipped a beat. It was sappy and romantic and most likely pathetic, but Clay figured he could happily look in to Logan’s blue eyes all day, but before he knew it the waitress returned with their meals.
Clay had made a significant dent in his food when he noticed the water in Logan’s glass shook as he took a drink. Was it the crowd making Logan anxious? The room was fairly quiet, and they’d gotten a table in the back corner. Before accepting the table, Clay had made sure Logan could place his back to a wall. It was a move he was familiar with. While his back twitched from exposure, Logan’s comfort was more important.
He placed his hand on top of Logan’s. “Everything okay? Do you want to leave?”
“No, why?”
Clay pointed to the trembling hand now holding Logan’s fork. A tense smile graced Logan’s sensuous lips.
Logan picked up his smartphone, his fingers flying over the touch-screen keyboard. “It’s not nerves. Sometimes they do that, and I don’t realise it. Could be the drugs, I’m not sure. I’m having a nice time. Thank you for bringing me.”
Clay read Logan’s message, and despite the brush off, he’d become familiar with many of Logan’s new behaviours over the last three months to know that hand tremors were not normal. Since Logan started working with the psychiatrist the anxiety had improved, but clearly, something was bothering him. Not wanting to push the issue, Clay looked at him, telling him with his eyes that everything would be fine. Logan must have gotten the message because his body noticeably relaxed, and his blue eyes now glowed.
The server removed their finished plates and asked if they would like any desert. They both denied the tempting offer, requesting coffee instead. Clay was stirring in his milk when he heard Logan’s soft voice across from him.
“Clay?”
The break in silence startled him for a moment, and he sloshed a bit of hot coffee over the edge of the cup. Hissing, he shook off his finger and patted the skin of his hand with his napkin.
He looked across at Logan. “Oops.”
Logan reached for Clay’s hand, frowning. “Okay?”
Clay nodded. “I’m fine. It was more startling then actually painful.”
Logan took a deep breath and began, “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Clay picked up his smartphone and waved it with a question. When he saw, Logan shake his head he knew this was serious. If Logan wanted to use his voice, it had to be big.
“I need to apologise for leaving the way I did all those years ago.”
Clay started to tell Logan it didn’t matter, but Logan’s hand went up to stop him.
“I know you think I ran because of what you said. In part that’s true, but not for the reason you think. You see I’ve been keeping a secret from you, as well. In fact, it’s the same secret you kept from me.”
Clay sat in shock. Did Logan just tell him he was gay? He didn’t understand. So many questions flew through his brain he couldn’t grasp a single one until, “How long?”
“I knew when I was fifteen or sixteen. There’s more.”
Fifteen or sixteen! Logan had known he was gay all this time, and yet, he’d still run as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels when Clay had finally scrounged up the courage to tell him when they were twenty? But wait, there was more! Of course, there was more. There was always more.
“I didn’t run because I disapproved of you. I ran because when you admitted you were also gay, it shattered a barrier I’d been using to protect myself since we were teenagers. You see, Clayton, I love you. I’ve always loved you, an
d back then, that knowledge terrified me. I wasn’t ready to deal with both the fear and the desire. Not fear of you, but fear of myself. I didn’t know how to separate healthy sexual desire from the abuse. I was afraid my body would betray me and in doing so…destroy us.”
Clay’s shock passed hyper drive and went straight to ludicrous speed. His mind entered a semi-catatonic state. Logan loved him? Logan? The brother of his heart, his best friend and the man of his fantasies, was not only gay but loved him?
His heart wanted to jump up on the table and do a jig. It beat so fast he was convinced he’d just run the hundred metre dash in world record time, and his brain floated on a cloud of euphoria. He realised he’d been sitting there silent for several minutes. With each passing second, Logan’s body tensed, and the blue orbs which had been truly open and honest for the first time in months now darkened with despair.
“Let’s go home,” Clay said.
The drive seemed as if it lasted forever and not long enough. As ecstatic as he was about Logan’s news, he had a few questions and needed to tell Logan a few things of his own. The car was dark so Logan wouldn’t be able to read his lips, but Clay wanted to give Logan some reassurance that everything would be okay.
They pulled up in front of the building, and he found a parking spot. Logan moved to open the passenger door, but before he grabbed the handle, Clay placed his hand on Logan’s thigh. The muscle hardened under his hand, and he gave it a squeeze. He felt the warmth of Logan’s body leaching through the material of his slacks, and he wanted to experience that heat on his bare skin.
Clay opened the driver side door and met Logan on the other side. His hand stretched out in offering, and Logan’s fingers wove through his as they walked to the entrance of their building.
When they entered their apartment, he guided Logan over to the sofa, still holding hands. Logan sat on the plush leather, and before sitting directly across from him on the padded leather ottoman, Clay switched on the lamp perched on the end table. He held out his hands, and Logan grasped them with a pleading look in his eyes.
“I’m going to speak, but you stop me if you can’t follow.”
Logan nodded.
“I’ve waited twenty years to hear you say those three words, but as you know, those years have been far from easy for us. I know I’ve said that I don’t need your apologies for the way you left, and that’s true. However, I do need to tell you what it was like for me. Keeping my sexuality a secret from you was the hardest thing I had to do. I don’t know everything about what happened to you as a child, but I knew enough that I thought living with a man who had the desire I did would be difficult, if not terrifying. I valued our friendship too much to risk that. You were all I had, Logan. You were the only person who’d never given up on me, never abandoned me. And thenyou did. When you left…I can’t even describe the pain. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, but so you can understand my surprise at the bomb you dropped earlier. When I told you I was gay, and you ran…I thought it was my fault. I thought…you were afraid of me. That I would hurt you, like your father did.” Tears rolled down his face, but he had no willpower to stop them. “I would never hurt you, Logan. Not like that. I would have done anything to alleviate your fears. If that meant never touching you again, I would have done it. But you never gave me the chance.”
Logan slid to his knees on the floor in front of Clay. He used his thumbs to wipe away the tears streaming down Clay’s cheeks.
Clay felt Logan’s breath on his lips. He saw the tears pooling in the dark blue eyes. For a brief moment, he allowed their foreheads to touch before continuing. “After I pulled myself together, I tried dating. I really did. I slept with too many men, trying to find someone who evoked the same feelings you could with a simple touch. It was only after I finished at B.U. that I determined promiscuous sex wasn’t going to solve anything. It didn’t ease the hurt, it didn’t bring back my best friend and it definitely didn’t find me love.”
Logan pointed to the sofa, and Clay moved so he sat next to him. Their heads rested on the back of the cushions and turned so they could see each other’s faces.
“I searched for you for years. Once I finished at the academy and started working, I used every connection available to find you. One day, when I was at Carol and Jack’s, not too long before he died, I saw a photo of you in uniform. You and two others were standing in front of a burnt–out, multilevel building. All the buildings around you were in crumbles. You had smiles on your faces. It was a little odd. Seeing your happy face amongst all that destruction.”
Logan smiled. “It was taken during my first deployment to Iraq. We were in Fallujah. We’d been there during the U.S. offensive to take back the city. I guess we were happy because we were alive. I sent it to Jack and Carol, so they’d have something of me should anything happen. I got a few letters from them before Jack got sick.”
“When you came home for his funeral and I saw you in your uniform, I couldn’t look away. You left before I could talk to you. Why?”
“I saw you watching me. I saw how sad you were and wanted to walk over and hold you so bad but didn’t know how you would react had I approached you. I figured that wasn’t an occasion to hash out our issues.”
“Carol gave me one of your photos. It sits on my desk at work.” Clay took a deep breath and let it out. “So what now? Where do we go from here?”
Logan looked into Clay’s grey eyes. His gaze settled on the lips he’d kissed so many times in his dreams. His hand landed on Clay’s chest, and his palm slid up to cup Clay behind his neck. Clay’s eyes closed, his lips parted. Logan’s thumb rubbed in slow circles below Clay’s earlobe. He closed the distance between their bodies slowly. Their noses touched, and Logan slid his to the side. The flesh rubbed back and forth. Their open mouths were separated by only a hair’s distance. Each inhaled the breath of the other. When Clay’s tongue flicked out to moisten his lips the tip caught Logan’s lower brim. The damp warmth caused Logan’s breath catch.
As one, they moved. Their lips brushed tentatively. The mingling flesh lingered for seconds then the gap between them closed. Their mouths merged over and over as they moved together, the pressure increasing exponentially.
Logan got the first sample of Clay’s skin as his tongue edged along the lower lip, seeking entry. From the first taste, he knew he was a goner.
Clay’s arm wrapped around Logan’s back, pulling their bodies together. Logan ended up straddling Clay’s thighs. His hands cupped Clay’s cheeks, as their tongues slowly slipped in and out of each other’s mouths. Clay’s taste was the most incredible thing he’d ever experienced. The sweetness of Clay’s mouth only fed the fire racing under Logan’s skin. He rocked against Clay’s hips, his hands buried in the silky hair he’d admired for so long. The slick appendages of their tongues slid back and forth as the intensity of the kiss increased. Exquisite pleasure, unlike he’d ever experienced, consumed him, and his cock stiffened in need.
Logan quickly undid the buttons of Clay’s shirt. He separated the halves as he nibbled across Clay’s jaw and down his neck. He traced the contours of Clay’s chest. Clay’s moan vibrated beneath the pads of his fingers, and when he reached the hardened nipples, Logan’s shirt was wrenched from his pants, and eager hands slid beneath the material. His skin tingled in response to the touch, and he sought more contact.
Clay leant forward, and Logan pushed the dress shirt off Clay’s broad shoulders. The smooth hot skin beneath his hands was firm. Their mouths met once again in a torrent of need. Fingers clenched and fabric bunched as each of them undressed the other.
When their bare chests touched for the first time, in the heat of the moment, twin groans echoed in the still air surrounding their bodies. Clay’s arms wrapped around Logan’s torso as they clung together. Logan’s reach was hampered by the shirt, still clinging to the lower half of his arms. Clay’s hard cock press against his beneath their slacks. Together, they thrust, seeking pressure. Logan scrapped his t
eeth against Clay’s earlobe as Clay’s scored the skin of his shoulder.
Hands scrambled at the fastenings of their belts. Buttons and zippers opened. When Clay’s hand reached inside Logan’s briefs to grasp his cock, Logan nearly lost what was left of his sanity. As incredible as it felt, he didn’t want to spill in Clay’s hand while semi-dressed on the sofa. With the last of his resolve, he pulled Clay’s hand away from his skin and sat back.
Clay’s eyes searched his in question.
Logan moved off Clay’s lap. Standing before him, he pushed off his shoes and socks. Slowly, he walked backwards towards Clay’s bedroom. While he moved, he undid the cuffs of his shirt, letting the material fall away. Next, he slid his hands into the waistband of his briefs and pushed them along with his slacks down in one shove. His legs kicked to rid himself of the clothing. For the first time, he stood before Clay naked and aroused.
Clay’s grey eyes turned the colour of storm clouds as they travelled up and down his body. Logan wrapped his hand around his stiff cock. He stroked himself, catching the beads of liquid on the tip with his thumb and smeared them around the head. His back hit the wall, and he froze.
Clay slowly rose from the sofa, each movement an exemplar of grace and strength. Pace by pace, Clay stalked him, stripping the remaining clothes hanging off his body as he came closer.
Logan’s eyes burned as he devoured each inch of skin as it was revealed. When Clay unveiled his cock, Logan’s mouth watered, and he swallowed convulsively, imagining what it would feel like to take the long, thick column of flesh deep inside his body.
Clay paused only inches from where Logan stood. Their eyes met for seconds, and time froze. The hunger arced between their bodies. Without a word, Clay passed him and entered the bedroom.
Logan’s lungs expelled the air that had been locked inside. He rolled along the wall and through the doorway.
Inside, Clay stood beside the king-sized platform bed, his tight round ass on perfect display as he dug around in the nightstand.