by Trina Lane
“Logan, what do you hear?”
“I hear―”
Wait! What is that? Holy Crap!
“I hear…me! I hear my voice again.”
He saw Erin hang up the phone on the desk. That noise must have been the phone ringing. Weird.
“What does your voice sound like, Logan?” Erin asked.
“It sounds… Hello? Hello? Can I hear me now?” He snickered at his lame attempt at a joke then turned to Erin. “I sound kinda like a pubescent alien. Like I’ve sucked on helium or something.”
“That’s totally normal. We’re going to do some more adjustments then I’ll see you again tomorrow. If you feel anxious or get a headache, it’s okay to take the processors off for a little while. We’re bombarding the brain with a lot of information right now, and it might get stressed out.”
Logan was still in shock and awe that he could understand most of what Erin had just said so he just nodded dumbly. An hour later, he and Clay left the medical campus and headed back to their hotel. The second they stepped outside the doors, he stopped dead, looking around in amazement. He’d forgotten all the different sounds outside. He heard a buzz and watched a car pull out of a parking spot. He picked up a chirping sound when they walked beneath a tree where a bird sat in the branches singing.
“Logan?”
He turned his head at Clay’s voice and smiled. “Yes?”
Clay swallowed when Logan responded.
“Are you hungry?”
“Sure. Can we pick-up something and take it back to the room?”
“Absolutely.”
* * * *
Logan couldn’t stop smiling as they made it back to their hotel with bags of fast food. He’d nearly jumped for joy when he placed his order at the counter of the restaurant and had been able to hear the cashier ask if he ‘wanted fries with that’. Once again secure in their little haven, the first thing Logan did was turn on the TV. He heard noises, but it was difficult to understand the dialogue.
Hmm, that’s lot harder than understanding people. I’ll have to keep using the closed caption for a while.
The TV screen went black, and Logan turned to see Clay standing beside the bed with the remote in his hand.
“What’d you do that for?”
Okay, my voice is still a little weird, but not quiet as chipmunkie.
“Come here, Logan.”
He slowly walked towards Clay, and when they were only inches apart, Clay secured him within the circle of his strong arms.
“Logan Callen, I am so proud of you and…I love you.”
The tears started flowing again. He’d heard the words. He didn’t have to read Clay’s lips. He’d never had anyone in his life say that. Oh, he knew Clay loved him. He’d seen that love, he’d felt that love, but now…now he’d heard.
Clay’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. Their bodies pressed tightly together as he crumbled, overcome by all the fear, all the anxiety and all the frustration he’d lived with not only since the explosion but since he came to live at the Shelby’s house when he first met Clay. Clay’s presence, his friendship and now his love laid the stones on his path to healing. He clutched at Clay’s back as his lover’s hands soothed him. When the tears dried up and the trembles calmed, he swiped at the wetness coating his cheeks.
“I love you, too, Clay. I love you…so much.”
Their lips met softly at first, but the tender connection quickly flared into bright, hot need. Their tongues twisted and twined together. In warm waves, they lapped against each other, searching for the mingled taste that unified them.
Logan’s head swam. He was adrift in a sea of thoughts and emotions. The only thing serving as anchor was Clay’s touch. He spun Clay around, and their bodies mimicked the freefall of his mind until cushioned by the mattress. Clay expelled a harsh breath as Logan’s weight collided on top of him. Logan gripped Clay underneath his arms and used his leverage to arrange their position lengthwise on the bed.
“Jesus, Logan. I’m not your rag doll,” Clay cursed before resuming their kiss.
Logan forcibly halted the response steamrolling through his system. Clay lay beneath him. His lips were swollen from their kisses, his eyes cloudy from desire, and beneath Logan’s hand, Clay’s heart raced as if he were a thoroughbred at Churchill Downs. This man’s heart belonged to him. Clay’s kiss warmed his blood, and his touch healed Logan’s soul.
Without Clay, Logan would have slipped into nothingness after his discharge. He’d come so close to losing himself within the pity and pain. Only with Clay’s support had he had the courage to fight against the anxiety, terror and guilt. Only in Clay’s arms had he truly come home again.
“Not a rag doll, no. But definitely mine. Of that you can be absolutely certain.”
Clay wrapped his hand around Logan’s neck and pulled him close so their foreheads nearly touched. “I’ve been yours for twenty years, Logan. All you had to do was claim me.”
Logan breath stalled in his lungs. He knew Clay spoke of not only when he’d run away, but the years before as well. He slid off Clay’s body and lay next to him. They turned on their sides to face each other. Logan scrunched up his face as the microphones of his processors scraped across the pillow. He propped his head up on one hand and rested the other on Clay’s hip.
“I guess it’s time to talk about what was going on in my head back then.”
“You know I’ll listen, if you wanna talk. But I don’t need to hear it.”
“I think I need to say it. I’ve talked a lot about my childhood and its effects with others. First, the Army psychologist then Matt, but I’ve never told you the whole story.” He caressed the side of Clay’s face. The rasp of his unshaven face scrapped across his palm. “The one person who means the most knows the least, and that’s not right.”
“Would it help if I told you what I do know, and you can fill in the blanks?”
Logan shrugged. He didn’t know if anything would make this easier. Maybe if he just started from the beginning…
“My dad was one of those men who ruled the roost. Mom was very much under his thumb, and as her extension, so was I. He loved us, or so he said, but I always knew our family was different from other kids in my class. Their fathers would come to the games or school plays and cheer them on or take them out for pizza. If he showed up at all, mine would nod or shake his head depending on the outcome, turn his back and wait for me in the car. The other started when I was about eight. My dad came in one night after I’d been sent to bed. He kissed me on the forehead. I remember being shocked at first. Dad had never kissed me. Up to that point, I couldn’t even remember him giving me a hug. It made me feel special; it made me feel loved. I remember thinking ‘finally’. Everything was going to be okay. I would have a dad like the other kids. Each night that week, I got a kiss, and it was the best week of my life.
“Then the next week, his kiss landed on my lips. When I asked why, he told me it was because he loved me. He wanted to show his love. So I thought okay. He kissed mom all the time, and they loved each other, so it was no big deal. Things started to get a little weird after that. I would get out of the bath, and dad would be there instead of mom. Looking back on it now, I can recognise the look in his eyes as something unhealthy, but back then… The first time he held me I cried. Here I was getting my first hug from my father, and instead of being elated, I was sad. I didn’t understand why. Why would I fear his touch?
“Tears weren’t allowed in our house. I can’t tell you how many times I heard ‘Tears are a sign of weakness. I will not allow my boy to be weak. There will be no tears in this house.’ I did my best to hide them, but I knew he saw. Instead of the reprimand I expected, he pulled me onto his lap. I froze. He started to touch and I tried to scramble away, but he held me down. Twice in one night, I’d broken a rule. ‘You do not fight back, you do not disagree, you do not show anger.’” Logan paused, the memories of that night and so many others that followed fed through his
brain as if they were a reel of film. “I was ten the first time he…he…”
Clay’s hand landed on his hip and Logan used the touch as a centre. He wouldn’t allow himself to slip further into the darkness.
“When social services came, my mom disavowed any knowledge of what had been happening. But I knew she lied. You can’t live in a house of three and have no idea. At that point, almost six years had passed. She refused to go against my dad, and they packed me up. I floated between temporary homes while the trial ran its course. Some were good; some not so much. Typically, I was shipped off after a couple of weeks when the family got tired of my silent act. When I landed in the Shelby’s, I had no expectations of anything changing. Then I met you.”
For the first time since he started the tale, Logan looked into Clay’s eyes. They had darkened, and Logan saw the riot of emotions swirling in their grey depths. Clay’s eyes so often reminded him of thunderstorm clouds, the intensity brewing before the atmosphere broke, the snap and crackle as they unleashed their awesome power and finally the calm after the storm. When they made love, Logan used Clay’s eyes as a barometer. Without being able to hear, Logan used every available means to judge where Clay was during the experience. The energy in Clay’s eyes consistently told Logan all he needed to know.
He dragged Clay across the bed so only inches separated them and gave him a kiss.
“The first day, you came skidding into the Shelby’s kitchen in your socks with your backpack still slung over your shoulder. Carol had just placed a plate of cookies and milk in front of me. You snagged one off the plate, and she yelled at you. The biggest smile I’d ever seen on another human being came across your face, and you said―”
“Brothers always share,” Clay finished.
Logan nodded. “Your smile unlocked something inside me that day. Something I’d forgotten. I remembered what it meant to be a kid, and the deadly duo was born,” Logan said, smiling.
“The two of us came to the Shelby’s with demons on our backs. In my case, my dad mostly forgot or ignored my existence after my mom split. The only time he addressed me was when he ordered me to go get him some more Jack or hit me when I got in his way while he had his drunk on. The SS were called when I passed out at school during gym class because I hadn’t eaten in a few days. I was lucky. The Shelby’s was the first house I was placed in. When you came along, I figured my prayers had been answered. Not only had fate brought me a brother, but a best friend.”
“When did it change for you?”
“Nothing changed, Logan. It just deepened. I started looking forward to your smiles and your touches, no matter how innocent. I started dreaming of something more, but because of where you’d come from, I pretty much knew it’d never happen. When you ran, I thought my confession had turned you against me. I thought you saw me as your father.”
“No, Clay, I ran because…because you said we could never be together. I thought you had caught on to my feelings and were too disgusted by my past to ever want what was left of me.” Logan saw the hurt and confusion in Clay’s eyes. “In my mind, the most logical solution was escape.”
“I thought you said you ran because you weren’t ready to deal with having a sexual relationship?”
“That’s also true. What can I say? I was a bit screwed up.”
“I need you to know I have never placed the blame for your father’s sickness on you. You always have been and always will be the brother of my heart. Now, you’re my lover and partner. Whatever demons we face in the future will be with a united front. Neither of us will be alone ever again.”
Logan’s head started to hurt. It seemed his brain was more out of shape than he’d thought. When Erin had told him earlier that he might want to take off the processors for a few hours, he’d figured she was nuts. Why would he want to take away the sounds he’d prayed for? But now, he felt his pulse in the back of his head and wanted nothing more than to close out the world for a little while.
Clay smoothed his hand over Logan’s head. “You’re hurting, aren’t you? Why don’t you take them off for a little while and rest? It’s been a big day.”
Logan nodded and smiled as Clay slid off the bed then grabbed the cases for his processors. Clay set them on the nightstand then disappeared into the bathroom. Logan lay back with his eyes closed.
A few moments later, the film of light behind his eyelids darkened. Clay’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to find the curtains over the window shut. Clay stood beside him with a glass of water and two tablets in his palm. Logan took the painkillers and relaxed against the pillows. Clay crawled onto the bed behind him and gathered him close. Clay’s hand rested above his heart, and a soft kiss landed on the back of his neck. Slowly, his consciousness slipped away, and as he crossed over into the oblivion of sleep, a smile curved over his lips.
Chapter Eight
Clay tilted back his head and inhaled the fragrant air of the first warm spring day. Around him Magnolia trees bloomed up and down Commonwealth Avenue. The crème and raspberry colours were a perfect foil for the brownstones lining the street in the Back Bay neighbourhood.
He welcomed the change in seasons with open arms. It had been a long winter, and he was so ready for sunlight. He wanted run without dirty snow slush splashing his sneakers, and he wanted to spend nights down on the waterfront eating ice cream cones, laughing at Logan’s lewd antics as he licked the cool treat.
Logan had recently return from another mapping session with Erin and seemed to be responding to the changes in his processor settings quite well. It was amazing how far he’d come in the five months since activation. In addition to the miraculous improvements in Logan’s hearing and speech understanding, his lover’s dependency on the PTSD prescriptions had significantly reduced. Logan still had occasional flashbacks or nightmares and bouts of anxiety, but Clay could say with absolute certainty that Logan was a changed man from the person he’d brought home a year ago.
For the most part, he and Logan were able to communicate with little difficulty at home. Every once in a while, Logan might ask him to repeat a word or his answer might be a little off from the original question. One afternoon, not too long ago, the two of them had nearly laughed themselves to death at one such error…
Clay had seen Logan come out of the bedroom with his zipper undone. He’d taken the opportunity to ogle the tempting bulge before saying, “Check your zipper.”
Logan had made a face at Clay. He’d turned towards the bedroom and scratched the back of his head then said, “Clay, I don’t have any slippers.”
Clay had laughed as he walked up to Logan. He slid his hand between the edges of the gap in Logan’s shorts and fondled his cock for a moment. The warm weight had rolled in his hand, and Logan had moaned. The thick flesh had begun to stiffen and Clay had placed a soft kiss on Logan’s lips then removed his hand. When Logan had opened his eyes in question, Clay had said, “I said zipper.”
Clay’s cock twitched at the memory, and his foot pressed a little harder on the accelerator. Turning onto Arlington, he spied a car leaving a parking spot along the street. He zoomed his compact into the space with a move worthy of the best Hollywood stunt driver. He quickly locked the car and jogged into the park.
Boston Common was filled with others out enjoying the sunny weekend. It was a perfect Sunday afternoon, and he was on the way to meet Logan, Ethan and Ryan. Their friends Conor McGuire and Rick Conner would be there as well, along with a group of others to play some ultimate Frisbee. They had all signed up to play in the weekend warrior league. To call it a semi-organised sports team was kind. Most of the players on his team were in some form of law enforcement, with the exception of Rick and Conor. So their variant and demanding schedules meant the roster changed as often as the turbulent spring weather.
He saw the guys all standing in a small circle. The sun reflected off Logan’s black head, and Clay sprinted the last ten metres as the desire racing through his blood reached desperate le
vels. His arms latched onto Logan’s waist, but before he could make his move, his body was spun around in pure Jason Statham style. Logan’s lips attached to his. Large hands cupped his ass and lifted him off the ground. His tongue plunged into the warm inviting recess and tangoed with Logan’s. Clay’s feet wrapped around Logan’s calves, and he held on for dear life as reality spun away.
Jeez, Logan’s gotten strong.
The hours spent in their home gym had gradually turned Logan’s solid frame into a sculpture of perfection. With his body pressed intimately against each thickly roped muscle, especially the one hardening against him, Clay couldn’t be happier. He vaguely heard cat calls coming from his fellow teammates.
“All right, you guys, break it up,” Ryan said.
“Rick ye got that bottle of ice water?” Conor asked.
The kiss ended with a lingering lick to Logan’s lips. Once Clay got his feet back under him, he said, “How did you know?”
Logan smiled. “Ethan ratted you out.”
Clay gave Ethan a little shove. “You snake. See if I help you surprise Ryan next Valentine’s Day.”
Ethan snorted. “A strategic diversion isn’t exactly on par with a full body tackle. Besides, I didn’t want you to hurt yourself. With the way Logan’s looking these days, you would’ve bounced off his butt like a quarter and ended up on yours. Therefore, in actuality, I was looking out for you.”
“And the defence rests your honour,” Rick teased.
“Cute. Except I’m a prosecutor not defence attorney. I nail the bad guys, not get them off.”
“I don’t know. I’ve heard Ryan appreciates your skills at getting men off,” Clay retorted.
Ethan rolled his eyes.
“How juvenile,” Conor said, haughtily.
“So says the man who plays video games for a living?” Logan asked.
“Ara be whist. I design games, ye muzzy! Not play them.”
Clay raised his eyebrow. He’d been to Rick and Conor’s home when they’d had one of their marathon video game tournaments.