by Ruskin, JD
Logan paused, trying to remember what was going through his head at the time. “Whenever I used to try and quit drinking, I’d do okay for a while. But then something would happen and I’d end up bingeing, drinking twice as much as I usually did. I hadn’t had a drink in three days when I walked into the bar the night of the fight. As I was sitting in the holding cell, I remember thinking I should’ve had some booze on hand, just in case things got too bad. I wouldn’t have gone out to the bar that night if I had.”
Caleb traced the side of Logan’s face, the skin of his fingers impossibly soft against Logan’s stubbled jaw. “Do you still believe that?”
Logan sighed, leaning into the touch. “No, I woulda drunk it and then gone looking for more. The booze makes you a liar and the lies you tell yourself are the biggest.”
Caleb could be naive about a lot of things, but he knew too much about denial and the damage it could wreak. He wouldn’t be fooled by Logan’s attempts to avoid the problem if he started drinking again, if he learned about the signs. “Michael has been going to Al-Anon meetings, for friends and family of alcoholics. Would you….” He swallowed the baseball lodged in his throat. “Would you go with him sometime? You don’t have to keep going if—”
Caleb scrambled on top of his lap until they were face to face, peppering Logan with kisses. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Logan wrapped his arms around Caleb, burying his face against his neck. “Love you too,” he whispered against his cheek. Hearing a hitch in Caleb’s breathing, Logan tightened his hold.
After a few minutes, they untangled and Logan’s eyes were drawn to the clock. “I’m not working tomorrow. Why don’t you put off cleaning this place until tomorrow morning and I’ll come by and help you?”
“I could make bacon pancakes,” Caleb said, smiling so sweetly Logan nearly missed the evasion.
Caleb had to have been searching for hours, and Logan didn’t doubt he’d spend all night cleaning it. He could understand the impulse, not wanting to wake up with the apartment still torn apart. Taking out his cell phone, Logan punched in Dabb’s number. Dabb picked up after only one ring as if he’d been expecting the call.
“I’m at Caleb’s and I was hoping to stay,” Logan said, only just then realizing it sounded like he was asking for permission for a booty call.
“Is he okay?”
Logan took a deep breath, not realizing until now what he intended to do. “I fucked up,” he said, and Caleb gripped his bicep hard enough to bruise. “I stashed a minibottle of booze here weeks ago and Caleb found it.”
The silence that followed was deafening, but the warmth of Caleb’s body pressed close was comforting.
“You didn’t have to tell me that,” Dabb said, sounding both in awe and annoyed at the same time.
“You said being that man was a choice. I’m making mine. I don’t want to be that man again.”
“Let me talk to Caleb.”
Reluctantly, Logan held out the phone to Caleb. “He wants to talk to you.”
Logan moved into the living room and started replacing the books on the shelves. He tried not to listen to the conversation, but it was pretty obvious Dabb was making sure Caleb wasn’t traumatized by going to the PO office alone, being interviewed by detectives, and finding alcohol hidden in his apartment. Jesus, it had been a long fucking day. Logan put another dust-free (how is that even possible?) book on the shelf. After a few minutes, Caleb gave him back the cell phone.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Dabb said. “You will go back to contacting me weekly instead of once every three weeks. And you will talk to your sponsor and share at your next AA meeting about what happened.”
Logan winced. Stacy was going to be pissed that he hadn’t told her about buying the booze. “I didn’t drink it.”
“You don’t need to drink to act like a drunk.”
Logan rubbed his forehead. A dry drunk. That was what they called it in AA, and Stacy had alluded to it when they’d talked in the cafe. It wasn’t enough to be sober. You’d end up right back where you started if you didn’t deal with the shit that had you picking up the bottle in the first place.
“Are we clear?”
“Yeah.” Logan ended the call. “It’ll be okay,” he told Caleb, towing him forward and wrapping his arms around him. Caleb relaxed into the embrace with a weary sigh, and Logan kissed the top of his head. “Let’s put this place back together.”
Logan finished replacing the books on the shelves and moved on to the TV cabinet. Caleb likely had some system for sorting the DVDs like alphabetical by genre or something, but at least Logan could give him the appearance of order. After replacing the couch cushions, he entered the bedroom. It wasn’t in bad shape. Not surprising considering how few clothes Caleb seemed to own. It only took a few minutes to clean up, leaving the scene of the crime remaining.
The bathroom looked like it had exploded. Packages of soap, cleaning products, toilet paper, and an assortment of grooming products littered the floor and filled the sink. The toilet tank cover was balanced on the seat. Caleb could give Dabb a few pointers. He’d thought to look in places Logan had never even considered. And he’d had plenty of experience hiding booze from Michael. Caleb had unscrewed the grid panel on the air vents and even taken apart the wall sconces. Thinking about what Caleb must have been going through as he searched made the muscles under Logan’s skin jump.
CALEB took a seat on an island stool, exhaustion battling with his jangled nerves. The kitchen was restored. His hands were red and wrinkled from scrubbing. That he had been rattled enough to put dishes on the floor unnerved him. Slumping forward, he propped his head up with his elbow. The frantic searching had seemed eerily similar to a panic attack. His mind had felt thick and disjointed, unable to focus on anything but the search.
Logan exited the bedroom, eyes on his cell phone. “Dabb says to tell you they got approval to offer Foster a deal. What’s he talking about?” Putting the phone away, he approached a bit tentatively as if not sure of his reception.
Caleb barely resisted the urge to smack his forehead against the countertop. Sitting up, he summoned a smile. It must have looked hideous, given Logan’s expression.
Moving behind him, Logan placed his hands on the back of Caleb’s shoulders. His fingers began to rub and soothe the muscles of his neck, easing the tension Caleb hadn’t realized was there until it faded.
“When the police showed up at Karen’s house, they found her boyfriend shoving boxes into their SUV,” Caleb said. “They brought him down to the station and it only took ten minutes for him to call his lawyer and demand a plea deal in exchange for implicating Karen.” The detectives had been courteous when he gave his statement but somewhat jumpy. They kept shooting little glances at Dabb before they asked their questions, making Caleb think it had been a waste of time to come down to the station. He should have felt vindicated when John told him what they had discovered, but mostly he felt numb. “They’re holding her on the assault charge for hitting John for the time being. But John said she’ll probably accept a deal to avoid standing trial for larceny. Likely, she’ll serve six months in prison and be required to seek help for gambling and alcohol addiction.”
Logan slid his arms around Caleb and held him tight. “There’s a chance it’ll help her,” he said, the skepticism clear in his voice. “It’ll be her choice.”
Caleb broke the embrace and turned to look at him. “She doesn’t deserve it. You would’ve spent two more years in prison if she’d gotten your parole revoked.” Just saying the words made his heart lurch.
Logan’s mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. “From what I’m told, the guy in the bar fight was an asshole who probably deserved to get hit for throwing the first punch. But he didn’t deserve what I done to him. Michael and those two other patrons didn’t deserve to be hurt. My second chance came at their expense.”
“Are you saying we should forgive Karen for everything she did?”
“I won’t f
orgive her for hurting you,” Logan said, shaking his head. “But for what she tried to do to me?” He shrugged. “She likely wouldn’t have targeted me if I didn’t have a record.”
Caleb cocked his head. “She didn’t factor in John. My uncle told him about the thefts and it was the reason John kept showing up at the warehouse even when he didn’t need to check on you.”
Logan frowned. “Why did your uncle tell Dabb about the thefts while talking about my parole conditions?”
Ducking his head, Caleb said, “They… uh… have apparently known each other for years. I think that’s why my uncle picked you to work for me, but John claims he didn’t know anything about it.”
“John claims, huh?” Logan mimicked, his jet-black eyes narrowing. “When the hell did you and John become best friends?”
“He asked me to call him John and he’s been a great help to both of us. He stayed with me when the detectives interviewed me and I don’t think I could’ve gotten through it without him. We talked for a while before he drove me home.”
“You know Dabb wants you, right?”
“God, don’t ever say that!”
Logan raised his eyebrows. “Not that I’m not thrilled by the reaction, but I am wondering why. You got something against May-December romances or Dabb in particular?”
“John and Uncle Harrison met twenty years ago and they were… friends with benefits for like ten years before John got married. They’ve kept in touch ever since.”
“Are you shitting me?”
Caleb shook his head. “John accidentally let it slip when I figured out they knew each other. He was pretty distressed when he realized I didn’t even know my uncle was gay.”
Logan snorted. “I coulda told you that. No straight man is gonna pick out guys he thinks his nephew will find attractive just to deliver the mail even if he’s trying to goad him into leaving the apartment.”
Caleb heard the whistle of the teapot, pushed to a standing position, and went to the stove. Turning off the burner he said, “I guess I should’ve known. Especially since I’ve never known him to date anyone, but I assumed he was too busy helping my mom and me.” He held up a mug. “Hot chocolate?”
When Logan gave his assent, Caleb filled the mugs with his special blend of spicy cocoa powder and added the boiling water. While blending the mixture he said, “When I came out to him my junior year of high school, he let me know he was okay with me being gay, but he didn’t want me to tell my mom.” He handed Logan a mug and then picked up his own. “Apparently, she knew about him, but he was afraid she would react badly to finding out about me.”
“Knowing about a brother and a son isn’t always the same,” Logan said softly. He took a sip of the hot chocolate, groaning at the first taste.
Caleb took a deep swallow from the rich drink, letting its warmth soothe him. “It doesn’t matter, not anymore. We both need to move forward and try to be better about supporting each other.” He wrinkled his nose. “I’m just having a little trouble processing my uncle being gay and having a former relationship with John.”
Logan laughed so hard he spilled hot chocolate all over the counter. “Who do you think topped? Or maybe they switched?”
Caleb threw a tea towel at him. “Stop! I don’t ever, ever want to think about that.”
Logan’s grin said that was fantastic news, and Caleb couldn’t help rolling his eyes. He set his mug in the sink. Still snickering, Logan brought him the other mug and the dirty towel.
Wrapping his arms around Logan’s neck, Caleb said, “I don’t want Dabb. Or Daniel.” He laughed. “Or the tranny on the second floor.” He kissed Logan. “Not even the very hot Carlos. You’re who I want. Let me have you.” They kissed again.
Pulling back Logan asked, “Who’s Carlos?”
Caleb snorted. “An ex-con I met today at the PO office who thought I was a hooker.”
“Hoped you were is more like it,” Logan grumbled, putting his hands on Caleb’s hips. “And it’s no wonder with these clothes.”
Caleb looked down at his sweats and long-sleeved Cubs T-shirt. “Okay, I get they’re a little tight, but they’re old and ratty not sexy.”
“They’re sexy on you. Trust me, baby. I whacked off the first day we met thinking of you in those sweats.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah,” Logan said, lifting him effortlessly and depositing him on the granite counter top. “Don’t go nowhere.”
Caleb felt a little ridiculous sitting here with his feet dangling, especially when Logan left the kitchen. It reminded him of sitting on an examination table, waiting for the doctor to show up and start poking him. All that was missing was thin white paper under his ass. “What are you doing?”
Retrieving a pair of scissors out of the desk drawer, Logan said, “We need to have a wardrobe intervention for your own good.”
Caleb nibbled at his bottom lip. “They’re comfortable.”
Logan shook his head. “You don’t wear them because they’re comfortable. You wear them because they comfort you.” He walked back into the kitchen and placed the scissors on the counter.
Covering Logan’s hand with his own, Caleb asked, “What if I promise not to wear them out?” He rubbed a thumb over Logan’s knuckles.
“We’ll get you some that fit instead of ones that cut into your skin and leave bruises.” Logan grabbed a chunk of Caleb’s Cubs T-shirt on his upper chest and snipped.
Looking down at the hole, Caleb said, “Were you lying about not being a Cardinal fan?”
Grinning, Logan pushed Caleb’s thighs apart and stood between them. “I’ll buy you a new one.” He blew on the exposed skin, his breath warm and sweet. Caleb’s nipple shot to attention, eager to please in spite of its owner’s objections.
Logan circled the skin around the puckered bud with his calloused fingers. “You don’t need them anymore.”
“I don’t want to do this right now. Let’s just go to bed.”
Logan watched him closely. “Tell me why.”
“It’s been a long day and I’m tired.”
“Try again,” Logan said, shaking his head.
Caleb felt his eyes well and he rubbed them, mortified to be near tears over a stupid T-shirt. “I know it’s ridiculous to want to keep them. I’m not ready to give them up, but I can put them away and start wearing the new stuff.”
“If you shove the clothes away in your closet….” Logan shook his head and grumbled something that sounded like “or the bathroom cabinet.” Looking sheepish, he continued, “Then they’ll always be there if things get too bad and you need them again.”
As he fingered the worn fabric of his gray sweats, Caleb’s thoughts unwillingly traveled back to the past several years. When he had first stopped going out, it had been easy to convince the package handlers his uncle hired just to knock and leave the items outside the door. Weeks would go by when he didn’t speak directly to anyone. Until his uncle got wind of it. Caleb suspected it was Mrs. Simon who ratted him out. Then his uncle hired Marco, the incorruptible. There was a reason Marco never ate Caleb’s cooking. All attempts to bribe, badger, or beg the stubborn man failed. Marco refused to make it easier for Caleb to hide. His kindness and friendship had started Caleb on the journey that Logan helped him complete. It would be wrong to let all that effort go to waste. Lifting his lashes, he met Logan’s piercing stare, giving a small nod.
Logan smile looked like it might split his face in half. He laid the scissors on the top of Caleb’s thigh.
Looking down, Caleb asked, “Do I have to actually be wearing the sweats when we cut them up?”
“No, but it’s better this way.”
“Why is it better to a have a sharp pointy object near my groin?”
Logan gave him another toothy grin. “Positive association is what I think your shrink called it. Whenever you think about getting rid of the rest of your old clothes, you’ll associate it with me sucking your cock.”
Caleb’s mouth dried. “That
could work.”
“Hmm, time for some active participation.” Logan slid his fingers under the collar of the T-shirt and cut through the fabric. “Give it a yank, baby.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Caleb grabbed his collar with both hands and pulled, his cheeks warming as the shirt ripped to just below his collarbone. Tilting Caleb’s neck back, Logan rubbed his thumb over the red marks from the too-tight collar, making Caleb shiver. Leaning over, he used his tongue to trace down to the collarbone, and Caleb massaged the back of Logan’s neck, encouraging the contact. Logan continued to remove chunks of material—tasting and nibbling the exposed skin—until Caleb’s T-shirt resembled Swiss cheese.
“God, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Cupping Caleb’s face in his big hands, he leaned forward for a deep kiss. His tongue tasted sweet and spicy, like the hot chocolate.
Logan pinched the fabric on Caleb’s inner thigh and snipped it. Putting the shears aside, he took hold of the fabric and pulled, the material ripping in protest. He yanked on the sweats repeatedly until he had created a hole big enough to fit his hand inside. Massaging the sensitive skin of Caleb’s inner thigh, Logan kissed him. Caleb made an abortive moan as his tongue was sucked slowly and thoroughly.
Caleb canted his hips when Logan pressed his other hand against the tented fabric of his sweats. Breathing deeply, he smelled the odd combination of musk and kitchen cleaner. With great care, Logan made a hole in the straining fabric. Caleb’s cock poked through the opening.
Caleb groaned as his cock was swallowed down to the root. Using his thumb and forefinger to loop around Caleb’s length tightly, Logan slid his lips back up again, playing his tongue over the soft ridge of Caleb’s dick, tasting and teasing him before plunging forward again. Caleb’s fingers slid along the cool surface of the granite as he leaned back. Logan’s bristled chin and the slick heat of his tongue created a delicious contrast as he sucked hard.