by E M Lindsey
Derek broke away from Basil and walked to a closet door. He wrenched it open and found a set of golf clubs which looked well-polished and new. They’d probably seen courses Derek would never be able to afford, registered to country clubs who would turn Derek and Sage both away on appearance alone.
He found his hand reaching for them, plucking one of the putters from the collection. It was heavy in his hand as he twisted his wrist, testing the balance. He moved away from the closet, to a tall shelf with the most important photos of Brian on display. One of him being sworn in years after Derek and Sage left. Another of him shaking the hand of the Secretary of State.
He swung the golf club before he was aware he was doing it, not sure if the roar was coming from his chest or was in his mind. But he couldn’t stop himself. The rage was taking over, and the only thing he knew was the overwhelming pain that his father had ruined lives and destroyed his soul and had gotten to leave this earth without ever taking accountability for what he’d done.
He could hear his father’s last words to him blaring in his head, so loud in his memory it made his ears ring. “You were fucking useless as a child and you’re even more useless now. I should have let your mother end the pregnancy before you even had a chance to take your first breath.”
He was sobbing now, watching glass fall as the club made contact with figurines which crashed to the floor. The end of the club smashed into the face of the clock above the mantle, it hooked around the books in the shelf, sending them toppling to the floor. He crushed frames under his feet, tore at the curtains until the rod gave way and it all came crashing down.
He wasn’t aware of when he’d dropped to the floor, or of when Basil had pulled the golf club from his fingers, but he came to with his hands pressed to the carpet, shards of glass cutting into his palms as his body was wracked with dry sobs. He didn’t fight Basil when his arms came around him, pulling him back, holding him like it was the only thing keeping it together—because it was.
He knew there was no taking it back. He knew his father—dead or alive—didn’t deserve a single second of his energy, his rage, his sadness. But he couldn’t stop it. Now that the dam was broken, he was helpless against the flood. He turned, pressing his face into the crook of Basil’s neck and let himself cry. Real tears, real emotion, anguish for himself and knowing that nothing he did would take away his past. His father’s death didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. He could probably move on now—he could let the past go and know that in the future, Brian Osbourne could no longer hurt him, but he would be forced to reconcile that the man had gone to his grave without a single second of remorse.
Basil’s fingers drifted through his hair, and he was humming a tuneless, deep noise in his chest which brought Derek back from the edge better than anything ever had before. He pulled back enough to swipe his hand over his face, and then he looked up at Basil who was staring at him without judgement or fear or disgust. Just affection and worry, and it meant everything.
When his hand lifted, fingers curled into a fist, Basil stopped him and shook his head. ‘Don’t apologize.’
Derek was about to argue that he wasn’t going to, but he realized he had been, and he finally nodded, letting his hands drift back down to his lap. After a beat, he looked around at the carnage and found himself surprised he actually did feel a little better. ‘At least I can afford to have this place cleaned up.’
That startled a laugh from Basil who shook his head and reached for Derek’s wrists. He pulled his hands up to survey the damage—superficial cuts, a little blood, but far less pain than even his kindest tattoo. ‘What now?’
Derek sighed, shrugging. ‘I’m going to need to explain this to the agent coming by for me to sign papers,’ he admitted. ‘But I don’t care.’
Basil’s lips softened into a grin. ‘What can I do?’
Derek shook his head, then dragged the tip of his finger across Basil’s jaw. ‘Nothing. You’re perfect.’ At the slight blush on Basil’s cheeks, he knew this was it for him. This was all he’d ever want, and he meant to do everything in his power to keep it.
Chapter Nineteen
Collapsing on the couch, Derek wriggled and twisted until his head was firmly planted in Sam’s lap. Sam’s thighs had long-since atrophied, so what was left of the muscle was hard and stiff, but the comfort of being home and with someone he considered family was enough to soothe him. Especially when Sam gently put a hand through his hair and smiled down at him.
“Was it seriously that bad?” he asked.
Derek closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. “Worse. I fucking lost it, man. We got to his penthouse and I started looking through shit, and when I realized he hadn’t bothered keeping any trace of me or Sage or my mom I just—I just went batshit on the place. I grabbed a fucking putter out of the closet and broke everything.”
Sam jolted a little under him, and when Derek opened his eyes, he saw the guy staring down at him with a vaguely startled expression. “Der…”
“I know,” Derek said. “I had a two-hour therapy session today to work through a lot of it, and I’m doing okay but…but fuck, man. This is going to take some time.”
“You knew it would,” Sam reminded him gently, scratching at his scalp like he would a cat. “When you decided to take on his care, you told me yourself it was going to fuck you up in the end.”
“I was hoping I’d find a way to forgive him,” Derek admitted. He turned to his side slightly and Sam’s hand dropped to the back of his neck. He wondered if other people got this kind of comfort from their friends and family. Or maybe he was just a freak. Maybe they all were. He realized even if that was the case, he couldn’t care less. “I told Leila today that I don’t want to forgive him.”
“What did she say?”
Derek shrugged. “She said I don’t have to, that people who are abused aren’t obligated to forgive their abusers, and that it’s not true that the only way to live a healthy life is if you can bring yourself to do that.”
Sam’s mouth lifted into a grin. “I like her.”
“Me too,” Derek said quietly. “If she wasn’t married, I might give her your number.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for dating right now, Der. And even if I did…” He trailed off, and by the tone in his voice, Derek realized he was keeping something back.
Pushing up on his elbow, he lifted to sit and stared at his friend. “If you did?” he pressed.
Sam shook his head, dragging both hands down his face with a groan. “It’s fucked up.”
“Look man, unless you’re like in love with me or my brother which would be so weird…”
“No,” Sam said in a rush, then laughed. “I mean, no offense. You know you’re both hot as hell, but you’re my brothers. No, I…it isn’t either one of you.”
“Then who cares,” Derek said.
Sam licked his lips. “Bro code, Derek.”
Derek frowned. “I…what? Bro code?”
“You don’t fucking date your friend’s ex,” Sam clarified, and blushed so hard the tips of his ears went pink.
Derek leaned forward. “Who the fuck has an available ex?”
Sam shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Well…maybe not ex, necessarily, but it was pretty obvious you liked him and…”
Derek’s eyes widened. “Wait. Niko?”
Sam licked his lips, then nodded. “He’s…we’ve gotten together a couple of times, and he co-hosted a wheelchair yoga session at the gym last weekend. He’s also really great with May and I just…I’m sorry. I already told him I’m not in a place where I can date, but I would never do that to you.”
Derek tried to hold back his laughter, but he couldn’t. He covered his face, his body shaking with it, and when he regained some control, he dragged Sam into a hug before righting him back on the sofa. “Fucker. I’m so fucking in love with Basil, Niko never had a chance. I only went on that one date because Sage begged me to, and it didn’t end well.”
>
Sam’s eyes flickered down. “Yeah. He told me. Honestly part of me can’t help but wonder if he’s only interested because he wants to prove he’s not some ableist asshole. I mean shit, it’s not like I have a whole helluva lot to offer.”
Derek’s jaw tensed. “First of all, he was kind of an ableist asshole, but he’s the kind of guy who could learn to be better. Secondly, you’re a fucking catch, Sam, and if you want to argue, we can take this shit outside and duke it out.”
Sam laughed, rolling his eyes. “The last time you tried to fight me, I floored your ass.”
“I had like half a bottle of tequila, that doesn’t fucking count.”
Sam grinned for a second, but it didn’t last long. “I just mean…I’m…I come with a lot. It’s more than just a chair, and it’s more than just a kid. It’s pain and sometimes it’s me pissing myself and not being able to maintain a fucking erection, and it’s also constant court battles for my girl, and never-ending scrutiny by people who will never see me as an able parent—and sometimes that constant questioning makes me believe it. I can’t saddle someone with that, Der.”
“A person who loves you for you—all of that shit is just going to be part of what they love about you,” Derek told him fiercely. “Believe me, okay? I didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone who’d be willing to put up with all this fucking mess,” he waved his hand up and down his body. “And Basil and I are still new so who the fuck knows if it’s going to end up too much for him, but right now it isn’t. Right now, he just wants me for exactly who I am, and I’m learning to accept that.”
Sam worried his bottom lip with his teeth, then sighed. “I get it, because that’s the shit I’d be telling you if you were freaking out about Basil, but it’s…I just…”
“I get it,” Derek said. “But trust me, if it’s right, it’ll happen. And more than anyone I know, Sam, you deserve it.”
Basil was just finishing counting the drawer when the lights flashed. He looked up, irritated that he’d forgotten to lock the door, but his entire body lit up with relief when he saw Derek making his way through the rows of spring flowers they’d set out earlier that day. He was a strange juxtaposition—massive and hard angles and sharp ink in contrast to the soft petals and rounded edges of the flora he was walking through, but it looked right. He looked perfect there.
Basil was still a little shaken from his experience in New York. Derek had eventually been able to calm down and sort out the paperwork for his father’s estate. The agent who came by didn’t seem entirely surprised by the chaos that greeted him and didn’t make mention of it that Basil could see. The whole process was done in less than an hour, then they went to a kosher deli for lunch, and eventually met Sage back at the hotel.
The trip was meant to last another two days, but the brothers looked flayed raw and exhausted, so Basil didn’t put up a fight when Sage changed their tickets to that night, and they hopped the red-eye back to Denver. Basil immediately went home with Derek and they curled together under his threadbare blanket and held each other for hours as they slept the day away.
Then life got on as normal. Derek went back to work, and Basil went back to the shop and they still texted and still got together to work on sign, and Derek kept a close watch on the tattoo, his eyes telling Basil more than his words that the image wasn’t finished.
Basil couldn’t stop thinking about the cottage the brothers had decided to keep and wondered if Derek had meant it about wanting to go there and spend some time. Basil couldn’t imagine it would be soon—couldn’t imagine Derek being ready for it in the near future, but the thought of spending a week away from everyone and everything made him crave with a fierceness he wasn’t expecting.
Now, seeing Derek making his way across the shop floor, he wanted it even more. He smiled as Derek laid his hands on the desk and leaned in, and Basil turned his face up for a kiss.
‘How was your day?’
Basil waved the question off. ‘Fine. Boring. Amaranth booked three weddings next month, so I’ll be crazy then.’
Derek’s shoulders shook with his chuckle. ‘I booked a long-term job. Two grand total and he prepaid.’
Basil’s eyes went wide. ‘Wow. You happy?’
Derek shrugged. ‘It’s a long commitment, but it means I can ask you…’ He stopped and licked his lips. ‘I need to…can we spend the night at yours? I want to talk.’
Basil felt his stomach twist with worry. Logically he knew Derek wouldn’t be asking for a night over, or anything intimate, if he was about to end things, but Basil’s heart was still a little raw and a little afraid. ‘Are we okay?’
‘No,’ Derek signed, but there was a playful smile tugging at his lips. ‘We’re perfect, I think.’
Basil let out a breath, then smacked him on his shoulder. ‘Asshole.’
‘I know.’ Derek tugged him in for another kiss. ‘I’m going to get food. Meet you there?’
Basil nodded, and Derek reached over, curling his hand into the front of Basil’s shirt and pulling him in for a third lingering kiss.
‘See you soon,’ he signed, then he went right back out the way he’d come in. Basil followed to lock up, and maybe his numbers weren’t super precise as he hurried through the last of his closing duties, but Amaranth could yell at him for it tomorrow.
He made the drive back to his place in less than five minutes, and was just getting out of the shower when the lights flickered, letting him know that Derek had come in. Amaranth had gone into Denver with friends and had already told Basil not to expect her back, which meant they had the place to themselves. It was good, unless Derek had been lying about why he wanted to talk, and things were not perfect. Yet, he reminded himself, Derek wore his heart on his sleeve and Basil could see it plain on his face—Derek was in it. This was solid. It was good.
In Derek’s words, they were perfect.
He threw on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, then walked into the living room to find Derek setting a pizza on the table. He looked over his shoulder when Basil entered the room, and his cheeks immediately went pink as he straightened and walked over like he couldn’t help but take Basil into his arms and kiss him. When they broke apart, Derek didn’t let him get far, his eyes roaming over Basil’s face like he just couldn’t get enough.
Finally, he dragged them to the sofa, but where Derek might have immediately put his feet in Basil’s lap and dug into the food like they’d been doing that together a hundred years, instead he turned to face him.
‘I’ve been practicing this,’ he said in perfect ASL. ‘I want to get it right, and I want it to be said in a way you understand without having to try. My teacher helped.’
Basil blinked at him, his throat a little hot and a little tight. ‘Okay.’
Derek nodded, and his chest puffed and deflated with his breath. ‘The night we met, I was a mess. My father had spent an hour telling me how worthless I was, and I didn’t feel like my life was going anywhere. I will always be a mess. Part of me will always be the terrified teenager locked away in a garden shed not sure if he was going to die in there.’
Basil felt white-hot rage course through him and wished he could drag the old man out of hell just to put him back there himself. But he didn’t say any of that, because he knew what this was costing Derek, and he knew how hard Derek had worked on this.
‘The night I was trapped in the bank, I went right back to that dark place. But then you touched my arm and you pulled me out. You bought Kevin and you let me give you a piece of me on your arm that you’ll carry forever. And then, when I was falling apart, you held me together.’ Derek swallowed thickly, his eyes darting away only for a second, and when he looked back, there was fire and purpose in them. ‘I love you,’ he said, signing the full sentence instead of using the three fingered sign for it. ‘I’m falling in love with you, and I’m terrified but I don’t care anymore. If you think it’s too much, I understand, but I need you to know that this is everything.’
Basil waite
d several beats after Derek’s hands dropped, just to be sure he was finished. He had wanted to interrupt more than once, wanted to just take his hands and kiss his palms, then slowly undress him and meld their bodies together until he wasn’t sure where one began and the other ended. But he also knew how hard Derek had worked to perfect everything he wanted to say, and he wasn’t about to take a single second of that way from him.
‘I love you too,’ he signed. A simple gesture, the I love you sign, and same, signed in the short space between them. Derek’s eyes were fixed hard on his hands, and then looked up into Basil’s eyes and his face erupted into a grin.
‘Yeah?’ he mouthed.
Basil chuckled. ‘Yeah,’ he mouthed right back.
Then Derek’s hands were on him, pulling at him, searching for skin under his shirt and below the waistband of his bottoms. He had Basil pinned to the sofa in seconds, a knee between his legs gently pushing up against his balls with just enough pressure to feel good. Derek’s mouth barely left his, tongue sliding across his own in wet, hot, gorgeous strokes and Basil’s eyes rolled back in his head with want and desperation.
Somehow, moving in tandem, they managed to stand and stumble down the hall without losing their grip on each other. Derek had Basil’s shirt off and flung into the corner of the room the moment they got inside, and Basil could feel the vibrations in his feet as Derek kicked the door shut.
‘I want you,’ Derek signed.
Basil nodded frantically, let Derek drag him back toward the bed. They were barely dressed by then, the last of their covered skin separated by loose, thin boxers, Derek still in his socks. His hands were warm and a little rough as they brushed down the center of his chest, his fingers pinching at his nipples, drawing little gasps and moans from Basil’s throat.
He felt Derek hesitate, and when he opened his eyes and looked down, he saw Derek’s hand hovering just over the place where his dick was growing rock hard and throbbing. His gaze was fixed on Basil’s face, eyes questioning, asking for permission.