by Ruskin, JD
“You going in person or using that web thingy?”
“I haven’t decided. It would be easier to interact with the class and answer questions if I’m there in person.”
Caleb didn’t need to voice the downside to that scenario. Going back to the school where the panic attacks had started was bad enough. But standing in front of a lecture hall full of over-caffeinated and bored college students would give anyone pause. Yeah, until they got a look at their guest speaker. Then every girl and gay guy would be paying attention like an eager puppy. “Do you want me to go with you?” And smack the puppies with a newspaper when they jump all over you? he added silently.
“I can’t keep relying on you, and Daniel will be there.”
Sometimes the whole business of being supportive really sucked. Logan was glad Caleb had found a new friend, but why couldn’t it be the “I’m a dyke and proud of it” chick from the first floor? Instead of a hot professor with wide, blue eyes and tousled curls. Who’s everything I’m not. Smart and educated and not an ex-con. The kind of person Caleb should be with.
Logan kneaded Caleb’s shoulders. As his fingers worked to ease the tight muscles, Logan could see the tension growing in Caleb’s shoulders. Leaning forward, he buried his face against Caleb’s neck. Caleb’s skin had that freshly scrubbed scent with a whiff of candle smoke. Kissing the side of his neck, he asked, “What’s your number?”
Caleb huffed. “My ass is pressed against your dick and you want to know that?”
He nuzzled Caleb’s neck, silently urging him to continue. He knew Caleb hated admitting his level of anxiety, but the therapist insisted it was important, especially if Caleb was going to get further than two blocks from home on his own. Logan tried very hard to keep his own fears hidden. He didn’t want to stilt Caleb’s confidence by admitting he didn’t want Caleb going anywhere alone.
Logan hadn’t seen much of Foster since yelling at her on the floor of the warehouse, but that didn’t make him any less wary of his supervisor. Michael said there wasn’t much else he could do without bringing Klass on board. Logan wasn’t sure if he should approach Klass or not. Something was going on with his boss. Last week, he observed a guy in a slick suit and with carefully coifed hair walking on the floor with a flustered-looking Klass trailing behind him. Toward the end of his shift, Logan spotted the same man exiting the break room, face flushed and styled locks in disarray. When Logan entered the break room, he found Foster applying lipstick in the dingy mirror above the utility sink. From the smirk she directed at him, Logan had no doubt she’d offered herself up to Mr. Slick Suit like a vagina vending machine.
Sighing, Caleb leaned forward, resting his chin on Logan’s shoulder. “I talked myself down from a six in the shower.”
Logan wrapped his arms around Caleb. A six was high, but not the crippling panic of a ten. “How about now?”
“I was really low after meditation, maybe a two….” He trailed off and Logan told himself to be patient. Running his hands over Caleb’s back, he could feel the muscles twitch and tense.
“Seeing you makes what we’re planning to do more real… so I’m at a three.” The strain in his voice meant it was likely closer to a four, but Logan didn’t contradict him. He knew Caleb felt guilty when something Logan said or did triggered anxiety. He wanted the day to go well. They had been slowly increasing the time away from the apartment, but this wasn’t a test and he refused to let Caleb tear himself apart if it didn’t work out.
“Would you dump me if I relapsed and got drunk?”
“Of course, not!” Caleb said, leaning backward.
Feeling his chest ease from a fear he hadn’t had the courage to acknowledge, Logan leaned forward in the seat, swallowing against a suddenly dry throat.
Caleb brought their foreheads together for a moment before kissing him gently. “But I’d want you to get back on the wagon and try again. I wouldn’t accept you just giving up.”
“So stop being so damn hard on yourself,” Logan said, his voice hoarse. “If it doesn’t work out today, there’ll be another nine innings to try again.”
Logan had been saving for first and last month’s rent for somewhere nice enough for Caleb to visit when the thought of buying tickets came to him. Hope had power, and he’d give anything to give it to Caleb. It had come as a big surprise that the tickets were so expensive this time of year. It wasn’t like the Cubs were going to make it into post season, but he’d had to go to a ticket broker to ensure he got aisle seats in an area close to an exit. Money was tighter than he liked since he’d stopped letting Caleb pay him. “You mostly have your uncle to thank for today.” He gritted his teeth. He’d barely managed to cover half of the cost, and Klass had been the one to find the tickets online.
“No,” Caleb said, brushing a hand across Logan’s cheek. “He might’ve helped, but the tickets were all you.” He kissed Logan sweetly. “Thank you.” He kissed him again, a little whisper of a kiss. “What should I do to thank you?” Rotating his hips, he ground his ass onto Logan’s lap.
Logan knew what he wanted, but hesitated to ask. He didn’t want to make Caleb self-conscious or think he was obligated to comply. Caleb could be painfully shy at times and incredibly clueless about his own appeal. But ever since that first phone call when he’d listened to Caleb come, he’d yearned to see the show in person. Even knowing the call had led to Caleb’s panic attack hadn’t burned the desire from him.
Caleb grinned as if he could see the dirty thoughts in Logan’s head. “Tell me.” Leaning forward, he nibbled on Logan’s earlobe. “Is it kinky?” He pulled back and stared at him appraisingly as if he could pry the fantasy from Logan’s head. “I have a very unsanitary one involving pancake batter and a frilly apron.”
Even though it was likely his ass in that girly apron, Logan couldn’t keep from groaning. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
Wagging a finger at him, Caleb said, “I want to know what’s in your pervy head.”
Logan gnawed on his lower lip. “We don’t have to do it just ’cause I suggest it.”
Caleb grinned and they shared another kiss. “I know.”
Feeling his cheeks flush, Logan said, “I want to… uh… watch you touch yourself.”
Still smiling, Caleb leaned back so far that Logan had to scramble to grab his waist and prevent him from falling on to the coffee table. Arm stretched, Caleb opened the drawer on the coffee table and pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom. After placing the items on the couch, he stripped off his T-shirt. Logan noticed an angry red line surrounding Caleb’s neck like a collar, making him wonder how the man could stand his T-shirts being so suffocatingly tight. Wordlessly, Caleb unzipped Logan’s jeans.
Bewildered, Logan took off his pullover and helped Caleb slide off the jeans. Maybe the request had freaked him out and he was pretending it hadn’t been made? Logan reached for the lube, but Caleb snatched it from his hand. “Hands at your sides and keep them there.” When Logan opened his mouth to protest, he said, “You said you wanted to watch not touch.”
Logan groaned, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch. Laughing, Caleb stood long enough to get his sweatpants off before returning to Logan’s lap. They both groaned at the first touch of skin against skin. Caleb tore open the condom with his teeth. After only a few strokes, he’d hardened enough for Caleb to slide the condom onto his dick. Logan’s mouth watered as Caleb’s equally hard cock drew tantalizingly close as he rose up, his knees on either side of Logan’s thighs. Another squirt of lube and Caleb reached his long fingers to his entrance. Logan watched with fascination as Caleb began to stretch himself. Caleb held his cock to his stomach, giving a perfect view of him shoving and twisting his way inside his tight hole. Soon Caleb’s pale hips were thrusting down upon his own fingers, a few quiet moans escaping as he curled his touch and brushed deep inside. It took every bit of Logan’s will to keep from bucking his hips in the air as needy little sounds escaped Caleb’s lips.
Cale
b sighed heavily and pulled his fingers free, a hungry look in his eyes when he positioned himself over Logan’s throbbing cock. Logan concentrated on not coming like a teenager as Caleb slicked him up with lube. Without hesitation, Caleb shoved his way down in one hard motion.
“Oh, fuck!” The sudden heat and tightness was almost more than he could take. When Logan could think again, he said, “You’re going to be sore.”
Caleb smiled, bright and eager. Logan hadn’t thought his dick could get any harder, but he’d been seriously wrong. He sat transfixed as Caleb rubbed his hands across his pale skin, green eyes closed and a deep blush upon his cheeks. He let his eyes follow that blush down to his long neck and over the smooth contours of his chest. A sprinkling of baby-fine blond hair trailed down over his flat stomach to his well-groomed, honey-colored pubes.
“Do you think you can keep still?” Caleb asked, teasing innocence in his voice. He twitched the internal muscles of his passage, sending a bolt of pleasure down Logan’s length. Struggling to breathe, Logan could only mutely nod.
Caleb’s eyes closed as he stroked himself, slow and lazy at first. Logan groaned and Caleb’s eyes fluttered open to lock with his. The flush on Caleb’s cheeks darkened. Logan felt his hands curl into fists at his sides as Caleb increased the pace, stroking his cock but somehow keeping his hips still. Caleb’s other hand slid up his chest and squeezed a rock-hard nipple, causing them both to hiss. Another twitch from that tight ass, and Logan nearly dislocated his hips to keep from thrusting.
Logan knew the hitch in Caleb’s breath meant he was close, which was good because any longer and he’d never be able to walk again. A few more urgent pulls and Caleb came, crying Logan’s name as his eyes clenched closed and splattering his seed against his chest. God, he’s beautiful.
After a deep breath that made Logan grit his teeth to keep from coming, Caleb said, “I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll be squirming on the hard plastic seats at Wrigley, still able to feel you inside me.”
Logan didn’t need to be told twice. He surged forward, ignoring Caleb’s yelp of surprise and the squish of sweaty flesh peeling off the leather couch. He pulled out long enough for Caleb to kneel on the couch cushions before shoving back inside. The next few minutes were a blur in Logan’s mind. He pounded into Caleb, the other man meeting him thrust for thrust, both filling the room with loud cries and deep moans as the couch squeaked in surrender.
Logan plunged in again, two, three more thrusts, before he felt the tension reach its peak. He bucked into Caleb mindlessly, too focused on feeling his orgasm to control his movements. A distant part of his brain worried he might actually pass out from the pleasure. He wrapped both his hands around Caleb’s waist to keep himself upright until the last of the waves had abated; then all the strength ran out of him and he collapsed to his knees on the floor, panting and completely spent.
“Wow,” Caleb said, flopping over onto his side on the cushions.
Logan laid his forehead on the couch and reminded his lungs that breathing was a good idea. After a few minutes, he felt Caleb move on the couch.
“Was it okay? I mean… w-what you w-wanted?” Caleb asked, sounding tentative enough to cut into Logan’s afterglow.
Logan managed to summon the energy to raise his head a couple of inches. “You’re not allowed to be insecure after frying all the brain cells in my head.”
When Caleb didn’t respond, Logan sighed. From vixen to blushing virgin. Hauling himself up, he clambered onto the couch, pinning Caleb beneath him. When Caleb turned his head away, Logan didn’t stop him. Instead, he asked, “Did you like what we did?”
Caleb blinked rapidly, his eyes turning wet and glistening, and Logan felt a surge of panic race through his gut. “Shit, did I hurt you?”
“No,” Caleb said, wiping an escaping tear from his cheek. “You didn’t hurt me. I just….” He rubbed at his eyes. “Why can’t I just enjoy the moment? Why do I….” He made a move to slide off the couch, but Logan used his weight to keep Caleb in place.
“Don’t run away.”
“Let me up.”
“Why? So you can go hide in your bedroom?” Leaning down, he kissed Caleb on the forehead, and then each eyelid and each corner of his mouth. “Do you think that little slab of wood can keep me away from you?” He watched Caleb work through whatever shit was going through his head. “I’d say I was sorry for suggesting it, but I’d be lying. Watching you touch yourself was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Caleb’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“I’ll be jacking off to the memory from now on when I’m hot and horny at my place, wishing I’m with you.”
Caleb sighed, a small smile on his lips.
LOGAN hoped the dark clouds looming overhead weren’t a sign for how the day would go. A 3:10 start on a weekday and the threat of rain were enough to keep the fair-weather fans away. Caleb vibrated in his seat, either from anxiety or an attempt to avoid freezing to death in drizzling fifty-degree weather. Logan scrunched in his seat as best he could with the limited space. He’d likely converted the seat behind him to obstructed view, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
Caleb’s gaze roamed over the stadium, seeming to take in all the details. “Thank you for this,” he said, so sweetly he might as well have shoved his tongue down Logan’s throat. The sappy look Logan knew was on his own face probably wasn’t helping matters, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
He noticed a stocky guy to Caleb’s right, dressed in blue and red like nearly everyone else in the stadium, staring. The girl next to him had long, blond hair and was busy bitching about the cold. The man appeared more resigned than hostile as he first glanced at his girlfriend and then back to Caleb. Stuck between a whiney girlfriend and a fag, the look said. As long as the guy didn’t give them any trouble, he could think whatever he wanted.
“I still can’t believe they traded Zambrano to the Marlins,” Caleb said. “I’m going to miss his water cooler hissy fits.”
The neighbor snorted. “I swear the man would rather get a homerun than a perfect game.”
And then they were off, rambling about stats and future prospects like they were the best of buddies. Logan couldn’t follow half of it, so he didn’t try. He shared a look with the girlfriend before he said, “I’ll hit the concession stand.”
Pulling himself away from his new best friend, Caleb asked, “Do you want me to go with you?” And make sure you stay away from the beer being the unspoken message.
“Nah, I’ve got it. Don’t want you to miss the opening pitch.” He already knew what Caleb wanted. Caleb had described it in such graphic detail last week that Logan had had to jump him. Caleb took food porn to an all new level. Heading down the stairs, a portly guy passed Logan with what had to qualify as a vat of beer, since the guy needed two hands to carry it. He tried and failed to be disgusted by the sight. He weaved through the crowd toward the third base line to the concession stand Caleb had said he preferred. When his turn came, he ordered a foot-long hot dog loaded with onions, peppers, and sauerkraut for Caleb and Bases Loaded nachos for himself.
After making his way back to their seats, he handed Caleb his food and retook his seat. He then avoided looking at Caleb until he was sure the food was devoured. There was no way he could watch Caleb stuff a foot-long hotdog in his mouth and not get arrested.
In the fourth, the dark clouds moved off and the sky brightened. Caleb took one look upward and reached for his backpack. He pulled out two blue, plastic ponchos and handed one to Logan. Caleb quickly donned his poncho and encouraged Logan to do the same.
“I think it’s clearing,” Logan said, right before the heavens opened up and pissed all over him.
Caleb and his new best friend were rambling away when Logan got back from a trip to the john. Caleb must have seen something in his face, because he smiled sheepishly.
“I realized I never even asked if you’re a White Sox or a Cubs fan.”
Caleb was so obvio
usly trying to include Logan in the conversation that Logan was tempted to ignore the question just on principle. It didn’t help that he had no idea what to say. He doubted Caleb would appreciate the truth. He didn’t give a shit about either team and was only indulging Caleb’s love of baseball like a good little boyfriend. Come winter, he expected Caleb to park his ass on the couch every Sunday to watch football, preferably naked and draped over Logan’s lap. He intended to take full advantage of every commercial and halftime break. Opting for neutral, he said, “I like both, I guess. I’ve never had a preference.”
The entire stadium didn’t stop and stare as the words left his mouth, but damned if it didn’t feel that way. The look on Caleb’s face was less than comforting.
The asshole neighbor nudged Caleb’s shoulder and said, “You should dump him,” in a tone of absolute seriousness.
Caleb held up a hand as if to say “I can break up with my boyfriend without you.” He then spent ten years gathering his thoughts. “You’ve never mentioned this before,” he said, like Logan had neglected to tell him about a wife and two kids in the ’burbs.
They were starting to attract attention without a single voice being raised. An hour-long rain delay and icy winds meant only the diehards remained in the stands. They had to get their entertainment somewhere.
As Caleb appeared to be debating what to say, Logan wondered how he’d missed the fact he was dating a fanatic. His brain gave him a mental slap to the back of his head: He’s an agoraphobic at a baseball game, you moron. Wide open space. Check. Large, unruly crowd. Check. Uncontrollable conditions. Fucking check.
“Look, I don’t have anything against White Sox fans. I mean, it could be worse. They could be Cardinals fans.” Caleb’s lime-colored eyes narrowed. “You’re not a Cardinal fan, right?”
Logan shook his head vigorously. When Caleb gave him a look that could rival Dabb’s, he reluctantly added, “I’ve been to Cardinals games, but it was only a few times. A guy I knew who moved to St. Louis had season tickets and—”