39 comments/ 112567 views/ 124 favorites A Boy Stumbled Through The Snow By: AvayaNox A boy stumbled through the snow. He carried only one small bag, but acted as if it was made of depleted uranium. He trudged through yet another drift as he thought about how he had gotten there. Could he go back? No. Dieing of cold would be better than going back. He pulled his thin denim jacked around his frail shoulders and trudged on. He glared at the ground as he continued along the snowy streets. It wasn't often that the city got this kind of snow, and the road crews were not prepared for it. All the roads were covered with at least two feet of snow, four in some drifts. It was only a few days before Christmas and the holiday shopping had gone dead. No one could get out of their houses. It was a rousing twenty degrees out and all the boy had on was a tee shirt, a denim jacket, and some jeans. He continued to plow forward, not noticing how numb his legs were. He made it to the park, he didn't know where he was going any more, so that was a good enough place. He caught his foot on something in the snow and went down. He tried for a moment to get up, but it wasn't worth it. He lay there, ready and willing to die. * A man was standing in the snow, watching the park as the little flakes fell. He enjoyed watching something so peaceful. He strolled around in the slightly less voluminous drifts, watching the icy winter day. Suddenly the peace was shattered with the form of a figure approaching the perimeter of the park. It was huddled, and he couldn't make it out well, but it stopped suddenly and fell into the snow. It didn't get up again and the man's heart jumped. He ran over to the prone figure and found a beautiful young man, wearing clothing that was much more suited to warmer weather, and he wasn't moving. His full lips were blue, and his skin ashen white. The man suddenly felt fear that the boy might be dead and picked him up. He held him like a baby and was overwhelmingly grateful to find that he was breathing, if shallowly. He took off running, aiming for a tall, old building. Hoping against hope that the boy didn't have frostbite. Hypothermia he could deal with, but frostbite required surgery. He threw himself into the lobby of his apartment building and ran to the elevator. The boy flopped loosely in his arms. He hit the "up" button and the elevator dinged. The doors opened slowly and he rushed in. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the doors closed and the elevators began rising. He hit his floor number and looked at the boy in his arms. Even in his half-frozen state, the boy was a wonder. His face was angelic, pleasantly androgynous. He had long black hair that fell to his ears in the front and between his shoulder blades in the back. He had a sweet little nose, pouty lips, and long dark eyelashes. The rest of him was skin and bone. The man could tell that once, this boy had been well built and full of lithe muscle, but now he just looked like a jumble of sticks in a human shaped sack. The door pinged and he rushed out of the elevator, swung right, and ran down to the end of the hallway. He fumbled with his keys, trying to unlock the door while holding the boy. He finally got the door open and bustled inside. He ran through a few rooms of his apartment, and lay the boy down on his bed. He laid a blanket on top of him, temporarily, and dashed to the bathroom. He got the tub filling with scalding hot water, and went back to see to the boy. The child was breathing easier now, he had pulled the blanket around him, but his clothes were wet. The man peeled away the blanket, then each subsequent layer of fabric, until the boy's once glorious body was completely naked. He tried not to look, but he noticed that the boy's cock was far to big for a kid his age, which the man guessed was a very young looking sixteen. He scooped the boy up in his arms again and carried him to the bathroom. The tub was mostly full, and steaming. It was too hot, so he added a little lukewarm water to the mix. When it was full enough, he turned the tap off and gently lowered the boy into the water, sure to keep his head out of it. The boy floated gently and seemed to relax slightly, only occasionally a spasmodic shiver racking his body. He was warming up. The man realized that he was still wearing his parka and snow pants. He took them off in the bathroom, keeping an eye on the boy, incase his head fell into the water and he drowned. He stripped down to long underwear and rolled up his sleeves. He got down on his knees by the tub and cupped the boy's face in his hands. "Little one? Little one, wake up. Falling asleep right now is a bad thing." He brushed some of his silky black locks out of his face. The lips parted, and his eyes fluttered open. They slowly shifted around until they met his. He was stunned by the emerald intensity. * The boy opened his eyes. He looked around at a strange room. He seemed to be weightless, then found a strange man looking at him. The boy realized that the man's hand was on his face, and pulled away. Water sloshed. The boy looked down and found that he was in a tub of warm to hot water. He was naked. He quickly tried to cover himself with his hands, but his hands were too small. He looked at the man again. The man's cheeks had gone pink and he was sitting further away now. "Who are you? Where am I?" The little boy's voice was raw, but it didn't hurt much to talk any more. "My name is William Kingsley and this," he motioned around, "is my apartment. I was walking in the park and saw you when you fell. I took you back up here and put you in this bath to try and scare away hypothermia." The man looked to be in his late twenties, floppy brown hair, a very English looking face, and a strong, but willowy build. He reminded the boy vaguely of Hough Grant. "What is your name, little one?" The boy shifted in the water so that he was sitting, with his back against the head of the tub. "My name's Logan, Logan Verdenot." He pronounced his last name like viren-ough. He was hesitant giving this away, but the man had probably just saved his life. "Are you feeling better?" The man, William, inched closer and Logan slid away. "A little." He said. Logan just stared at the man for a minute, as if William was going to eat him. "Why were you out there in such little clothing?" The man looked worried. "I, " Logan figured that he owed his rescuer that much. " I was running away." "From your house?" The man suddenly felt a pang of guilt. He would return the boy to his family. "No, from my pimp." The boy said flatly. Will sat there shocked. He couldn't say anything. This boy was a Whore? But he was running away. He didn't want that life. "Oh my god." The man breathed. He closed his eyes and shook his head. The boy was even underage. "How old are you?" The man asked quietly. "Twenty one." The boy answered. The man's head shot up. "It's true. I just look young. I really am legal. I'm turning twenty-two in a few days." The boy looked at him worriedly. "Truthfully?" The man asked. The boy nodded. They were silent for a moment. "Are you hungry." The man queried. "Yes, very." Logan remembered his last meal. It had been scraps out of a dumpster a day and a half ago. Before that it was bread and water at his pimp's place. "How does grilled cheese and tomato soup sound to you." The boy smiled. "Wonderful. I don't have any way of repaying you. Unless, you want to..." He bowed his head. And spread his arms. He didn't want to, he was still sore from the last time he was raped for money. But he knew that nothing was ever for free. "There is no need for you to pay me. I just want to help." The boy looked up at him. The man smiled. Logan was sure that the food had strings attached, it always did, but he needed food more than decency right now. "Now, you stay in there till it gets cool, I'll be right back." He grinned and walked out of the room. The boy thought about making a run for it, but the smell of grilled cheese wafted in the door and his stomach growled from underwater. He sighed and lay back in the warm water. * A short while later, William came back in with a tray of soup and sandwiches. Logan sat up as he set the tray down on a little table he put by the edge of the tub. The water was still warm and Logan didn't want to get out. "Thank you, Sr." The boy said sheepishly. "No problem, and call me Will." The boy nodded as he dipped one corner of his half-sandwich in the soup. He took a bite and closed his eyes. It had been so long since he had eaten, not to mention the quality of the "food" his pimp had given him occasionally. He savored the combination of the creamy tang of the soup mixed with the zip of the sharp cheddar and the nutty bread. He chewed it slowly and swallowed. When he opened his eyes again he saw the older man looking at him with wonder and curiosity written on his face. Logan smiled and the man showed amusement and satisfaction with a mess of other emotions on his face. Logan made his eyes smile. His friends had said he could do that. That was why his pimp had liked him so much; he could make the customers believe he was really enjoying being their fuck toy. He could put a shield of sudo-joy over his torn soul. He was good at it. No one had ever seen through it before. That was why he was so surprised when he saw a tear come to the corner of Will's eye. He dropped the joy and let the concern show through. Will brushed the drop aside and dipped a peace of his sandwich. "What's wrong?" The boy couldn't stop himself from asking. "You've been hurt so much, and you are too good a covering up your pain." He shook his head slightly. "You saw that?" The boy was worried. "I read people well." The man offered up. "Some says that's what gives me my gift." He took another bite. "What gift?" The boy felt as if he was about to be shoved down the rabbit hole. "I'm a writer. Some say I'm gifted. Some say I'm gifted because I see into people. I can see their stories more fully than if they had actually told me. So all I need do is look into a rough idea of a person and they become a story." He shrugged and took another bite. Logan looked at him for a moment then took another bite of his tomato-dipped sandwich. "So, what's my story?" He asked after a second's deliberation as to weather or not he actually wanted to know. "You, hmm. You are harder than most. I don't know your beginning, but it was comparatively happy. You occasionally want to go back to it, even if you hated it at the time. Since then you met someone, became indebted to them, you began to work for them and they became your pimp. You've worked for him for a while. He's abused you, not fed you, and defiled you. You hate it, but you can't do anything for some reason. You feel dirty, you hate yourself, and you don't let any one in. You let a few people in once, but he's taken them away from you. You've almost gone crazy with your lot in life. You wanted something better, you tried to get it, but lost your way and ended up falling in the snow in a park in the middle of the city." He dipped his sandwich again and took another bite while the boy stared at him aghast. He had just been read like a book. He had only known this man for a few minutes and Will already knew more about him than most of Logan's friends. "Well then." Logan took another bite of his food. Will chuckled deep in his chest. They continued to eat in silence while they both pondered the man on the other side of the table. Will wondered why this boy was so hard to read, why did he want to hide, would he open up. Why did he want Logan to open up? He may have been good at reading others, but he himself was a mystery. He looked into his soup, trying to read his soul in the red swirls. He wanted to know this boy. He wanted to help this boy. He wanted to help him be all he wanted to be. But he didn't know how. Logan thought about what would come next. He frankly didn't know. He didn't even know what he wanted to come next. Did he want to stay with this man for a while, or did he want to move on? Would the man let him stay? Would he want to stay? What would he do here? What if he moved on? Where would he go? How would he get money, food, shelter? Surely staying here, in this warm apartment, with this kind man, and his good food, would be better than sleeping in a box in an ally having nothing to eat but food and having to sell himself to get money. But what would staying here involve? Would this man take his payment the same way that Dirk (the horny bastard that had been his pimp for so long) had? Would he throw him out in the snow? He just didn't know. They both ate their food, and when only a slimy residue was left in their plates, Will stood and picked up the tray. "You might want to get out. If you could flip that switch when you have it'll drain. There are towels in the cabinet and an extra robe on the back of the door. I'll go put these in the dishwasher and make the guest bed for you, you should get some rest." Logan was speechless as Will took the tray and moved the little table back into place. Logan was welcome to stay, and he didn't even have to share a bed with the man. He was dumbfounded. Just as soon as he had gotten over shock he got out of the cooling water and flipped the mettle tog that Will had indicated and watched as the water began to slide out of the drain, a soft wishing sound whiling around him as the water ran through the pipes in the walls. He got out one of the big white fluffy towels and wrapped it around himself, encased in the luxurious fuzziness, the rough threads reminding his skin what life felt like. He scrubbed himself all over with the towel until he was pink all over. He was in a better place now, but the contamination of where he had been had soaked into his skin. He scrubbed a few layers of flesh off and felt much better, ready to absorb new, more pleasant experiences. He put on one of the Terrycloth robes and tied the sash tight around his frail body. The robe dragged on the ground around his ankles. He stopped for a moment and closed his eyes. Silence. That was a rare thing for Logan. Not outer silence, the quit of the inside of a room still had the hum of the outer world. But inside, he was quiet. There were no voices. He was Skitzo, he had contemplated it, once, but he had decided that it was just his thoughts voicing themselves, a constant buzz of inner conversation, as if his body was filled with a calm cocktail party where all the guests were himself over and over again, talking to the others in polite conversation about the world outside. They had kept him sane. They allowed him in there with him, in that room to chat with them, like an old friend, when he was being defiled or hurt. He would retreat and spend some time chatting with his inner friends and not caring what happened on the outside. Then there was the music, a constant flow of soundless melody that drifted through his body. It was silent. He couldn't feel the harmonies thrumming though his body, the echoes of the fine music in his soul. It changed with his mood, he feelings, his thoughts. He looked deeper within himself and coaxed the music back to life. It was faint, but a sweet tune thrummed through him. He nodded and opened his eyes. He continued into the rest of the house. It was an elegant, homey feeling place. There were earth tones and big soft looking chairs. Almost every wall had stacks and stacks of bookshelves on it. Logan explored timidly through different parts of the one-floor apartment. He came upon the kitchen, the most modern room he'd seen so far. It had every amenity there was for a kitchen. Apparently this man prized comfort, quiet, books, and food, some of the best things to prize in this world. He went through a few more rooms and finically found Will. He was in a room that was un-characteristically sparse in books. This must be guest room. The bed was easily a queen, but obviously designed for sleeping rather than more energetic activities. This man was not sex-crazed, a good sign. Will stood up from being bent over the bed, folding down the fresh sheets he had put on it. "Hello. Good, you are up. I'm afraid that I don't have any pajamas that would fit you. Come, lie down, you need some rest. It's early, but you look you could sleep anyway. Come." He held out his hand and Logan approached carefully. He turned and took the robe off. Will took it and draped it over his arm. Logan pulled up the blankets and slipped between the soft cotton sheets. He lay his head on the pillows and pulled the blankets up to his neck. He took comfort in the soft, clean warmth of the cocoon and sighed. He looked up at Will. The man was looking down at him with something in his eyes. It wasn't lust as Logan first dreaded, but neither was it pity. It was something like a satisfied feeling that a brother or father had when they knew their bother or son was happy and they had made it so. Will reached down and brushed a strand of black silk off of the boy's face. The boy didn't flinch. He didn't feel threatened. He didn't think this man would hurt him. His inner song grew louder and soared with a tuneless melody that seemed to create a knot in his chest. Will smiled and his eyes glistened. Logan smiled back. Will caressed his face again and turned to go. "Wait?" Logan's voice came out before he knew why. "Thank you." He said quietly. "Your welcome." Will said over his shoulder. He bowed his head and walked out of the room. Logan closed his eyes and was swallowed up by the music. Will went to the solarium, as he liked to call it. It was a room with tall west-facing windows. Through them he could see the sun setting over the city. The sky was bathed in oranges and golds, turning slowly into purple, with white and blue clouds fringing pink on the edges. He leaned his back against a bookcase and watched the golden orb draw its rays below the curve of the earth. He rubbed his leg and reached into his pocket for his pills. He swallowed one and closed his eyes, feeling the tingling replace the ache in his leg. He took down a book and turned to the page that a scrap of paper marked. He red a few pages, re-marked the page and set it back. He sat in a soft leather chair and closed his eyes. He tilted his head back and let the knowledge in the books seep into him. He always took pleasure simply letting the souls of the authors and the characters that were embedded in the books, ebb into him and give him peace and wisdom. He sat there for a while, breathing the knowledge of the ages. He cleared his head of everything and let his bones settle into the accommodating leather. When he opened his eyes the room was pitch black and the stars were twinkling above the city. He stood and walked to his room. He opened and shut the door, stripped down and slid into his warm covers. He was soon asleep, dreaming of a world without pain. * Logan woke with the sun in his eyes and the smell of bacon in his nostrils. He turned his head and saw a yellow room. His eyes focused and realized that the wallpaper was a mass of yellow and a few pink flowers. The sheets were pink and yellow as well. The furniture was a pale cream color and the mirror on the far wall showed that he matched it perfectly. He slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood on shaky feet. He was naked, but there was a blue robe lying on the back of one of the chairs and he put it on. It reached the middle of his calves and he tied the sash. He walked gingerly towards the smell of food. He came upon the kitchen, and in it a bustling cook. "Ahh! Good morning. I'm glad you're up. I whipped up some breakfast for the two of us." Will was smiling and Logan rubbed his eyes. He shook his head and nearly fell over. Will caught him and set him down in a tall chair by a plain wooden table that looked like and oversized cutting board. "We need to get some food into you before you collapse." Will pushed a plate of eggs, pancakes, and bacon in front of the boy and handed him syrup and utensils. The boy stared for a moment then attacked the food vigorously. The man laughed. He had to admire the boy's gusto, no matter how distressing the cause. A Boy Stumbled Through The Snow He sat himself down with a slightly less daunting amount of food. He ate it and watched the boy devour his. When they were done they sat back contently full. Logan closed his eyes and hummed a tuneless little melody happily. "What is that?" Will asked. The boy's eyes opened and looked at him questioning him. "What were you humming, I didn't recognize it." He felt like making conversation. "Oh? Um. It was... I, um, It's kind of hard to explain," the boy's brows drew together. "That's all right." The man said. He smiled gently, the morning sun making him fuzzy like in an old movie. "Well, you see, it's my soul's music. It is what my essence sounds like. I can't do justice to it by physical means, but it is this ongoing, constantly changing, soundtrack to my life." He shrugged and Will watched this intriguing boy has he closed his eyes and bathed in his music. The boy reminded him of last night when he let the books seep into him. He understood what this boy was doing, to an extent. He was bathing in peace. This boy had a well of it inside him, where as Will drew it from his books. The boy's eyes opened and locked on the man's. What came next? As if to answer, the man spoke. "Do you have a plan?" He sipped at his milk. "No. I don't have anywhere to go, no money, and precious little health." He smiled dejectedly. "Then you should stay here. I've plenty of room, I made more money then I care to spend from my books, and a helping hand if you need anything. I rarely leave this apartment. I prefer mobility to anything else. I work out three times a week to keep me healthy and attempt to eat reasonably well. It would be much appreciated to have someone other than a coconut to talk to." He smiled and sipped at his milk again. There were ripples in the surface of the liquid as he held it. His hand was shaking. He noticed this, as did Logan, and he took a container of pills out of his pocket. He downed one quickly and the shakes stopped. Logan looked at him disappointedly. He thought this man was flawless. "What 'cha doin'?' He asked. The man looked at him questioningly. "What are you hooked on?" The boy asked more seriously. "Oh, painkillers." The man said dejectedly. "I've got a nerve problem. Before they figured out what it was, a side affect had already eaten away at the tissue and some of the nerves in my thigh. It hurts like hell without the pills, and then I got hooked. I'd brake off, but they're the only thing that stops the pain." He sighed. And lifted one side of his mouth in a ghost of a dismissive smile. "It's not so bad though. At least I can afford it, and it doesn't really affect my life that much. I just need to make sure I never run out." He shrugged and started clearing the dishes. Logan got up to help him and put the glasses in the washer. "Man, that sucks. I've got some friends that are hooked on crack. They are all kinds of screwed up, now. I don't do any of that stuff. I don't even drink. Back when I thought it was a good idea and I actually wanted to, I couldn't because it gave me the worst migraines in the history of the universe. I tried crack once, and as soon as that smoke hit my lungs my head broke into a million pieces. I was left holding my head on the ground while my pals laughed at me and got high. I never tried it again." He mirrored the ghost smile that Will had given him and dropped some sticky forks into the little rack on the door of the washer for silverware. "Same thing happened with booze, except that time, it was more of a throbbing, but it lasted four times as long." He shook his head and smiled. "Haven't tried anything that's supposed to mess with my head since." He laughed and his eyes narrowed at the edges. He didn't know why he was telling the man this, or why he was laughing, but it felt good to talk. "I still get the headaches, when I pass a newly painted house, or write with sharpies. It's really weird. It's like anything that should get me high gives me a migraine, but something like tomato soup will give me pure ecstasy! I'm one screwed up kid." He shook his head and chucked. They were finished with the dishes and Logan ran his hands under the water. He relished the feeling of the little bubbles caressing his skin and the cool liquid pouring over his warm flesh. He sighed and shut the water off. He scrubbed his hands dry with a rough towel and put them in the pocket of his robe. "Interesting." Will said, studying the boy. "You are quite unique." The man studied him for a moment then started moving again. "Make yourself at home. I'm going off to work on my book, feel free to do as you please." He smiled and walked off to another room. Logan just shook his head and smiled. After a shower, Logan flowed into the solarium (or "the room with the big windows" as he knew it) he picked a few books off the walls and hunkered down in one of the chairs, ready for a long day of mental expansion. Five hours later he had finished one book and was starting on another, relishing the leryical prose of some of the more classical authors. He had just begun to flounder in the life of the main character when he felt a body behind him. He tore his eyes away from the page and found himself looking up into the ashen grey eyes of his host. They were the most magnificent color. A grey that seemed to swirl like grey smoke. Absolutely unmarked, a work of liquid marble. "Ahh, the Count of Monte' Cristo. One of my personal favorites. I'm glad that you seem to be taking an interest in it. Tell me, have you ever read it before?" He came around and sat in the adjacent chair. "No, I've never really been in a situation where I had much time for reading." He watched the older man. "What was that situation, exactly?" The man looked at him with a combination of good humor and curiosity. "You tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine?" He smiled. "All right." Logan said after a pause. "I was born in Mane and that seems to be all of my real parents that I can decipher. I don't know what happened, all I know is that I was shuffled around from foster home to foster home until I came to be of use to an old bastard named Dirk Landers. Dirk ran a flesh store. He got all the cute orphans and sold them out to the highest bidder. He peddled my flesh liberally until I turned eighteen, then he started pulling bigger gigs. I was his most experienced and is best." Logan retched at the word. "I was the only one of the boys that was actually gay, so the Johns actually got to see me come every now and then, when I wasn't bleeding. When I came of age he putt me on the upper class market, he brought me to the city occasionally and would rent me out for weeks at a time. The guys and their friends could rip me open for days on end, and there was nothing I could do. Finally I caught a brake and found a moment when all of the men were sacked-out and I scrammed. I've been running ever since, I don't know how long ago that was, any more, I don't even know what day it is. The only good thing in my life, that thing that sometimes I wish I could go back to, was Daniel. He was in one of the earlier foster homes with me. He was like a brother to me, and I loved him. That was one of the better houses. I can still remember running through the cornfield with him on my heels, tumbling in the stalks. We were in love. I missed him after they made me move. The Fosters didn't like that we were gay. They liked him better than me, so they tried to 'fix' him and they sent me along." The boy pursed his lips sadly and looked down at his still open book. * "Well, that's my story, what's yours?" He shut the pages and turned towards his host more fully. "Well, I was born and raised in outer New York state. My parents were doctors, so they weren't around much. That's when I started writing. As soon as I was psyicially capable I was writing down the stories I saw in people. I started twitching when I was a teen. I didn't let anyone know. I wasn't exactly popular in school. I was a book nerd with a knowing stare that was suspected to be gay and I didn't need for people to know that I twitched too." He frowned and looked at his hands. "It started out as just my fingers shaking. Then my hands started vibrating randomly. I started loosing strength in my hands. My entire arms started shaking. Then my legs started. My thighs, then my knees, then my calves. My left arm always ached. Then it moved to my stomach and chest. I didn't let anyone know, not even my parents. They finally found out the night they found me on the floor of my room, vomiting and vibrating. They took me to the hospital and kept me there. They finally found out that I had a genetic defect. I would always be like this. All they could do was treat the symptoms. They fixed some of it, but my leg will never heal. If I don't take the other pills, I won't even get into what they are, I will probably die. The painkillers came next. I got hooked when I was only seventeen. I went back to school, but it just didn't work. I feel back from the world. I found myself this place and started filling it with books. I got my degree online, and started writing seriously. Since then I've made far too much money. I've donated most of it, but I still have too much. I will never have a 'proper' family because the kids in high school were right. I am gay. I will never have a kid to give my money to. That's all I really wanted out of life. The things I can't have. Someone to love me and the pitter-patter of little feet running through this place and big eyes looking up at me as my darling steals cookies out of the jar." He wiped his eyes. "I doubt anyone will ever love me, and I can never pass down this broken gene. I would not condemn my loved ones to that." His voice cracked as he spoke. A tear rolled down his cheek and hung off his chin. He hadn't meant to expose this much to Logan, but he had anyway. He felt a warm caress on his cheek and opened his eyes. Logan was kneeling in front of him. One hand on his knee, the other gently stroking his face. His sharp green eyes softened and he allowed a small sliver of emotion out of his hard shell, a tiny stream of water, tempting Will's thirst. A tear trickled down Logan's cheek. Neither them spoke. Logan took Will into his arms and held him as they both cried silently. Logan moved and sat on Will's lap, sideways so he could easily wrap his arms around his chest and lay his head on the man's shoulder. Will wrapped the boy in his arms. He suddenly felt, flooded. He was swallowed up in a pool of emotion. As he swept the boy away with him, they combined their sorrows and let them swirl together and combine. Slowly, their separate sorrows became one. They held each other as they floated in a pool of misery. Slowly the sorrow ebbed away, leaving them stranded on a scratchy shore of peaceful sand. They sat, huddled together, no longer fighting off the storm, but rather, weathering it, together. When finally they opened their eyes, hours had passed, and their bodies were becoming stiff from not moving. Logan slowly got off and Will popped another pill. Punctuating the storm with its origin making itself known to not be in the past tense. Logan kissed his cheek once and led the way to the kitchen to help with dinner. * A while later they were sitting at the breakfast table and eating some steak and green beans. They hadn't spoken since they had cried. Logan was confused. He had felt his music, waver. It seemed to have split; his sorrow had seeped out of him, and started flowing around them. Will was experiencing the same odd feeling of wonder. He had felt the sorrow pouring out of him like an ache in his chest draining. They both didn't know what to feel now. They had both dealt with their sorrow. They had lived with it for so long they didn't know what else to feel. But Logan was beginning to notice that his music was back, in full strength, and it no longer had dissonant cords. As he ate he immersed himself in the flow of golden music. As he lowered himself into the pool of shimmering song his eyes closed and he gasped. Will was by his side in a moment, holding him to make sure he was all right. "Logan. Logan! Are you all right? Logan!" Logan smiled, his eyes still closed. "I'm better than all right, Will. It's so beautiful. I've never heard it like this. It's so, ahhh." His head fell back and he gripped himself tight in a hug. "Will, it is so, unbelievable. I wish you could hear it. It's glorious. It's like, I can't describe it." Logan's insides felt like they were being squeezed, but it was a good feeling. It made him want to scream with joy. It made him want to cry with its beauty. He unwrapped his arms from his own torso, and put them around Will's instead. He hung on tight, as if Will was the only thing that was solid in the world, because, to Logan, he was. The rest of the world was dissolving as he held this man. All that mattered was him, and wrapped his arms around so tenderly. Will was confused, but as Logan wrapped his arms around the man's chest, he began to feel a fuzzy feeling inside. It made him smile, and confused. He didn't want it to stop, though. He wanted to feel this way for the rest of his life. He felt the boy's warm breath against his neck and he stroked the boy's back. He could feel the eyes flutter open, and sensed as the hands un-clenched, and caressed his back. "Will. I don't know how this happened. We've only known each other a day. But, I've never felt like this. The music is..." he trembled. "Will, I think I'm in love." For some reason this didn't shock Will. Logan pulled back just enough to look into Will's big grey eyes. "Odd, I seem to be as well." He smiled pleasantly and stroked Logan's silky hair. He gently leaned forward, gently pressing his mouth against Logan's. Logan eased into the kiss and opened his mouth. Their tongues gently and elegantly explored each other's mouths. They slowly made love with their tongues as their hands wandered. Logan's long agile legs circled Will's hips out of instinct. Logan picked him up and carried him to his bedroom. They lay on the bed and slowly kissed. Logan seductively pulled the end of the bow of sash that was holding his meager covering on him. The knot un-tied and he pulled the side of the robe over his side, exposing his body, and his steadily growing organ, while sliding off his shoulder like a sexy diva. Will's hand found his skin and caressed his side, wrapping around and drawing him closer. The robe was soon discarded and Will's clothes began peeling off. Not long after they were both naked and wound around each other under the warm blankets. Their mouths had rarely parted, and they were still dancing as Logan pulled his leg up over Will's hip. Will's hand descended and stroked his smooth thigh. Logan pressed up against him, rubbing their dicks together. "Will, do you want to take me?" It was an honest question. Logan didn't really want him to, but he was willing to make this sacrifice if meant he could have this wonderful man in his life. Will sensed this and nuzzled his neck. "Not yet. Let's just be together tonight." He felt his love relax and wrapped his arms around the boy. "It's all right. I've no need for sex." He stroked the boy's back. "That's silly. All men need sex." The boy said quietly into Will's skin. "I'll admit. The urge comes sometimes. But all I want to do with you right now is love you, and that doesn't need to include sex. And when and if we ever do, it will be making love, not fucking. So I will never fuck you." He stroked the boy's back as he said this and held him tight. "I love you." He whispered to the boy and kissed him again. They lay, stroking and lying in each other's arms late into the night. When they finically fell asleep, they were both smiling. * Logan woke up with a warm body pressed up against his. He suddenly had a pang of terror rip through him. He clenched his ass muscled. He wasn't sore. No one had taken him. He opened his eyes and smiled. He was half an inch away from Will's sleeping face. He kissed the man gently and Will smiled. "Good morning." He whispered. He stretched and caressed Logan's back. "It feels good to wake up with someone, especially you, without my ass feeling like it's been ripped open." He smiled. Will chuckled. "I love you." He breathed. Logan snuggled up against him and closed his eyes. He realized that Will was the first man in his life that wanted something other than to fuck him raw. He appreciated that, and kissed the older man's almost hairless chest. Logan seemed hairless, but he really just had very fine hairs, all over his body, that made him slightly silky to the touch. Will had a little curly brown hair on his chest, and again right below his belly button. This was the first time Logan had really thought about what was below his belly button. He snuggled up against his love and felt his half-hard member press up against his hip. It felt about seven inches long. That was pretty big. Not as big as some he had taken, but perfectly within the comfort zone. "Lets go shopping today." Will said randomly. Their eyes met. "You need new clothes, and something fit for the weather." An hour and a half later they found themselves in a changing room in one of the best clothing stores in the city. Logan was trying on some loose white pants and a black button-down. He came out and spun. Will clapped and catcalled. Logan blushed and bowed majestically. He was a bit skinny, but they would fix that soon. The clothes fit him well, and he just seemed to light up when he put on some new clothes. He was glad to be rid of the last remnants of Dirk's hell. When they were done they got back to the apartment with three large bags filled with stylish clothes. Logan's favorite purchase was a pair of black silk boxers. He looked fine in all the clothes. They were slightly more formal than his former ripped jeans and tee style, but the change was refreshing. They had also gotten him a swimsuit. It wasn't a Speedo, but it was a sort of long-legged version. Logan remembered the conversation that led to the purchase: "You look fine in that shirt, Logan. Did you workout, before?" Will watched him as he moved and noted how his long appendages had lots of lean muscle. "Yah. Before Dirk I was in much better shape. I would swim a lot, if I could, and workout. Dirk didn't let me do that kind of stuff, I don't know why, I guess he just wanted me to be weak." The boy shrugged. "I've got a membership to a pool I this area, what do you say we start up your routine again?" * So they bought the suit. It was fun, to try on all those clothes. Logan had enjoyed showing off for Will. He missed his old physique. He had had a form bubble-but and strong smooth muscles all over his body. He would be glad to have that back. Especially if that meant he could please Will better. That was really a preoccupation for him now. He did everything to get a smile out of Will. And Will him. They seemed to be working together well. It was later that day, after putting all the new clothes away, that the men found themselves cuddled up on a couch in the solarium, watching a crackling fire and blending. Logan was sitting on Will's lap, Will's arms around him, and ear to ear. Logan massaged his hands and gently rubbed his cheek against his partner's. "Will, what am I going to do with my life? When I was a... with Dirk I just assumed I would die young from AIDS or some such STD. I have no idea what to do with my life." He said it wistfully, as if it was a thought that had just floated out of his mouth. * "Well, I was kind of hoping you could stay here for a while, I could provide for you..." "No! I don't care how perfect you are; I don't want to get into the pattern of relying on someone's money and roof. I need to get a job." He stiffened for a moment. A Boy Stumbled Through The Snow "I thought you might say that. Well, what do you like to do? What did you do well at in school?" He stroked his boy's stomach. He was glad to feel that it wasn't sunken any more. "I really did very well at getting in trouble and beaten up at school. I maintained a pretty much D average all throughout because I was out so much. The bullies didn't like me so I would skip out on school to avoid them. I usually snuck off to some remote place and studied the textbooks. Soon, Dirk had his hands on me and I didn't go to school anymore." He shuddered. "Was there any topic that you really liked?" Will stroked him, calming him. "I liked English best. I liked writing, but I was never any good at it. What I really liked doing was singing. I learned guitar from a homeless guy that hung out on a street corner way back when, but Dirk smashed my guitar." "Bastard!" Will uttered. "You're telling me!" Logan chuckled. "Really like music." "Hey, you ever thought about being a professional musician?" Will looked excited. He felt like a kid about to embark on a adventure. "No, I never had the chance. But I couldn't very well be too good. But it would be cool." He smiled. "I could get my hands on a guitar. Do you do acoustic, or electric?" "Oh, acoustic! I don't do any of that scratchy yelling nonsense. The music that people are into today makes me sick. Pop and Rap and all that, it's so hard to find actual talent today. There are too many posers. I like a good acoustic, and a good solid melody." He tried to pout but he broke out in a smile instead. "Done and done." * The next morning (around ten, when Logan woke up) there was a smooth black guitar case in Will's place beside Logan. He laughed and took out the wooden wonder. He made sure it was in tune, then started strumming a few cords that were twitching in his fingers. They were all rather chipper sounding and Logan closed his eyes and started humming to his own song. He continued for a while, changing tunes with the ever-flowing stream of chords in his body. Until his fingers were raw from strumming and plucking. He opened his eyes to find Will in the doorway, leaning on the frame with his eyes closed. As the music stopped he opened his eyes and sighed. "You're an angel. You are too perfect. You are magnificent, and more talented than all the shmucks that call themselves musicians in this day and age. That music is pure joy." He walked forward and knelt in front of the boy. "I am honored that I can produce such beauty in you." His eyes melted and they kissed slowly. Eventually they broke apart and Logan put on some clothes. He went out into the solarium and started writing cohesive songs. Will found that Logan's voice was just as angelic as his face as the boy started forming words. He cooed and his voiced soared up and down with such easy grace, all the while smooth as silk. It made Will melt inside, and the lyrics only add complement to pleasure when he heard a story emerging. A raven, supposedly a representation of Logan, had found it's way out of a dark place into the sky and basked in the sun as the warm breezes caressed it's wings. A tale of freedom and escape, signifying his life before and now. As the song came to an end, Will slid up behind Logan and wrapped his arms around the small boy. "You're amazing." He whispered into his boyfriend's ear. Logan put his hand on Will's. "Thanks. For everything." Will nuzzled his neck and breathed in his smooth scent. Everything about this boy was smooth as cream. He was like Aloe on a burn for Will; he healed all wounds. * A while later, Logan was working out the fine points and writing down the song in a way Will had never seen before. "Where did you learn that?" Will inquired. "Oh, I didn't. I mean, I made it up. I came up with it about a year after I moved away from the guy that taught me how to play. It works." He shrugged and tapped the paper. "But how do you define the measures?" Will was really confused by that one. "I don't use measures. Do you thing the soul obeys measures? This music is taken directly from my core. It doesn't need measures." He seemed slightly put off. "That's what's so different about it! You don't use measures. Wow. You really are a musical genius." He stared at the paper and Logan smiled. "Hey. I've got a publisher, whose wife's nephew is the guy that goes out and searches for new talent for his boss' record company. I think you have enough new talent to keep him busy for a long time. What do you say to a meeting?" Logan's eyes brightened. "Gee-wilicers Billy! That would be great!" He grinned and planted a kiss quickly on the man's cheek. * Half an hour later Will got off the phone and turned around to find Logan's anxiously waiting face directly in front of him. He looked solemnly at the boy for a moment, and then grinned. Logan yipped with joy and jumped into Will's arms. Will stumbled backwards and laughed. The boy's joy was like the sun coming out over a stormy cloud. This boy was pure goodness. "Hey, babe. We need to be at New Sound records at five tonight. My publisher's wife's nephew wants to have dinner with us. And afterwards, he wants to hear you in the studio!" Logan yipped again and jumped back onto Will. He wrapped his arms around the man's neck and his legs around the man's waist. Will laughed again and wrapped his arms around this amazing boy that had fallen into his life. "Thank you so much, Will." His voice was high with excitement and he pressed his head into Will's neck, breathing in his luscious scent. "My pleasure, babe." He kissed the boy in his arms and the boy suddenly jerked back. "Oh my God! I need to practice!" He jumped out of Will's arms and grabbed his guitar and instantly started strumming. Will chuckled and went to watch. * That night at five our heroes were sitting at a table in a fancy Italian restaurant with Christopher Diamond, the talent search specialist at New Sound Records. Logan was decked out a pair of black slacks, a emerald silk shirt, buttoned two from the top, and a black jacket. Will was in a cream suit and Chris (as they were told to call him) was decked out in a black suit. Chris was about thirty years old, he was a little on the pudgy side, but he was tall and handsome and charismatic. Logan had his legs crossed under the table and one hand entangled with Will's. He looked cool and calm on the exterior, but Will could feel his tension through his fingers. Chris smiled at them like an old friend, but Will couldn't help but notice the slight glimmer of a predator that has just found it's prey. "So, Mr. Verdenot. I hear you have talent." His eyes turned to the boy that sat across from him. "I have heard much the same thing." Logan smiled. "And call me Logan." "Well, Logan. What kind of background, in music, do you have?" The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Well, Chris, actually, not much. My background in general is relatively... unsavory, and that is echoed in my musical background. I learned how to play the guitar from a homeless man that played on a sidewalk about a mile from the school I went to while at my," the boy looked up and counted in his head, "sixth foster home." The man's eyebrows climbed into his floppy brown hairline. "Oh my, quite a colorful history." He looked from Logan to Will. "You haven't heard the half of it." Logan chuckled. "Do I want to?" Chris inquired. "No." Logan said flatly. "So, I take it, you two aren't related?" He asked. Logan and Will's eyes locked and Will raised his shoulders. Logan could tell the man what he wanted. "No, we're together." He moved their entwined hands onto the table. Chris' eyebrows rose even higher. "Will picked me up out of the snow, saved me from hypothermia, fed me, nursed me back to health, bought me clothes and a guitar, and introduced me to you." Chris closed his eyes and shook his head. "Well, very colorful! Is that all true, or is it just an image, 'cause if it's an image, it's the best story I've heard in a while." He smiled at them. "Nope, all true." Logan lifted one side of his mouth in what he hoped looked like a smile. "Well. All that's left is to hear your music, but before we do that, why don't we enjoy some of this restraint's wonderful food and discuss contract conditions." And so they did. The food was wonderful, and so were the options described by Chris. He was talking about a three-year contract to start out with. The three of them bickered over the details until Chris paid for the meal and said that they could continue negotiations later, but now, he wanted to hear what Logan could do. They walked out to the parking lot and got into Chris' black Cadillac. They had joined up with him at the studio and he had driven them out to restaurant. They drove through the city mostly without talk. Logan watched the lights flash by outside the window. It didn't take long for them to reach their destination, a large building with big glass walls that exposed a well-furnished interior and reception desk. They parked the car in the private lot and walked into the reception area. Chris waved at the girl sitting in the desk and she waved back at him, while still talking on her headpiece to some disgruntled musician. They slipped into an elevator and Chris pressed the button for level three. The elevator rose slowly and Logan tapped on his guitar case absentmindedly. Will slipped his arm around his little love and Logan leaned into him imperceptibly. The doors pinged open and the two artists followed Chris through a maze of hallways and into a studio room. They saw the sound-proof room through the panel of glass. Chris sat down in front of a big panel filled with all kinds of knobs and sliders and motioned Will to a chair to the side. "Now, Logan. Why don't you go in there and show us what you've got. Just go out this door and turn left, the door to that room is right there." Logan nodded and did as Chris said. He closed the door behind him and too the guitar out of it's case. He put the strap around him and sat on the stool in the center of the room with the mike in front of it. "Logan, can you hear me?" Chris said into the mike in the studio. "Yep." Logan said into his mike. Chris nodded. "Begin when ready." He smiled and turned some knobs on his board. Logan began to stroke the strings of his guitar and closed his eyes. He let his mind slip away and fall next to the flowing music in his soul. He usually fell right into it, but it was different than what he wanted to sing right now, so he let the current be his power but put the tune and words around himself just beside it. He began to croon over the mike and lost himself in the melody of the music. Chris was astounded when the boy began to sing. He had an amazing voice, smooth as silk, and he seemed to loose himself in the song, instead of just singing it. It was amazing. He was instantly swept away by the tune and watched as the boy's fingers played over the strings of his instrument, while his voice soared and swooped. It wasn't until the boy plucked the last notes of his song that Chris could shake himself out of his trance. He turned to Will, eyes wide, and Will smiled knowingly. "How old is he?" Chris asked dumbfoundedly. "Twenty-one, twenty-two soon." Chris shook his head. "He looks so young. His music is amazing. He could make millions." Chris let out a huff of air and turned to the mike on the control board. "Okay, Logan. You're in." Logan jumped into the air and yelled a "YES!" of satisfaction. He put his guitar away and practically danced into the studio room. He wrapped his arms around Will and couldn't stop grinning. All his life, the only thing he had been good for was fucking, but now he had something he was genuinely proud of. He still had the vision of Chris' face after the song. He had been in shock. Logan wanted to kiss Will then and there, but he restrained himself for Chris' benefit. Instead he hugged the big man close. "You're great! But, as you know, it's not up to me, so I'll give the track I just made to my boss, and if he likes it, he'll give it to his boss, and so on up to the top. When it gets there and the big man on the top floor wants to see you, I'll call you." He grinned. "I have a feeling that you're going to make us a lot of money, Logan." Logan smiled. "That would be nice." He laughed. He looked up into Will's smiling eyes and hugged him again. "Hope to hear from you soon. And thank you, Chris." Logan shook the man's hand. "My pleasure. Allow me to show you to the door." * Once Will and Logan were alone in the parking lot, Logan shrieked and jumped up and down with joy. He landed in Will's arms and the bigger man swung him around like a child. They finally fell into a tight embrace. Logan buried his face in his love's neck and reveled in the joy. "Let's go home, love. I'm too happy to be wearing clothes." Logan whispered into his ear. Will grinned and let his boy down. They drove off into the night and back to their home. * At home Logan practically ripped his clothes off. He wanted to celebrate. Will followed him into the apartment, laughing as he watched his eager young boyfriend stripping. "Come on, Will. Come here." Logan leaned his naked body back against the arm of one of the sofas in the solarium. He was toning up and looked gorgeous, slim and sleek, his cock swelling as Will gazed at him. He put down the boy's guitar case and walked over to the young beauty. Logan wrapped his arms around the man's hips and pulled their bodies together. He stretched his neck up and kissed the man liberally. He tugged Will's shirt out of his pants and started unbuttoning it and slid it off his shoulders, caressing his chest. "Are you sure?" Will whispered into his mouth. "Yes. I want you in me." Logan growled back. Will was soon naked as well, and their breaths were harsh and labored as their sweaty bodies rubbed against one another. Logan scooted up so he was sitting on the arm of the couch and wrapped his legs around his lover's hips. "Condoms." Panted Will. "Bedroom." Logan nodded vigorously and Will stood, with Logan still wrapped around him. Logan laughed as they stumbled towards their destination. Will laughed back into his mouth as he continued to kiss the boy's succulent lips. They fell onto Will's bed with laughter rolling off them like water. They continued to caress and kiss until Will's cock-head accidentally brushed up against Logan's puckered hole and the boy froze, his breath caught in his throat. "Condoms and lube." Will muttered. He stretched up and fished said objects out of his bed stand. He ripped the condom's foil package open and deftly rolled it down over his shaft. He squished some cold lube onto his sheathed dick and gasped at the temperature. He quickly rubbed it in and spread some on his lover's rosebud. He slipped in a finger and lubed up the inside of his hole as well. Logan's eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned with pleasure. Will inserted another finger and stretched his lover's hole a little wider. Logan gasped and wriggled his hips, trying to work his lovers fingers in deeper. "How do you want to do this, lover?" Logan looked down at Will's questioning eyes. "Let me ride you." Logan rasped. Will nodded and flipped them over. Logan straddled his hips and took a hold of his lover's greased cock. He sat up on his knees, pointing the spear of flesh directly at his hole, and slowly lowered himself. He felt it's rounded head pressing against his tight ring of muscle and relaxed. Then, with a pop, it was in. Logan gasped with pain and pleasure as he accustomed himself to this new part of himself. He slowly sank down and not long later he was sitting on his lover's hips, the man's cock embedded in the boy's innards. Logan let out a long satisfied moan. It felt good to have a caring cock filling him. He began to slowly rise and fall, making his lover gasp and moan as his innards caressed Will's sensitive member. "Oh, God, Logan. You're so tight. Uggahhhhh." His head started rolling from side to side. He drew his feet up, bending his knees. Logan leaned back so that he was sitting with his back supported by his lover's legs, sliding up and down on Will's thighs. This made Will's tip continually caress his hot spot and Logan cried out in pleasure as he dug his fingers into his lover's legs. "Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! Will! WILL!!" Logan arched back over his lovers legs as his seed sprayed over the man's chest and face. He shook and convulsed spasmodically until the pleasure ebbed slightly. He was still hard and he still wanted more. He sat up on his lover's hips, Will's cock still buried deep inside him. He grinned, showing lots of straight white teeth. "I WANT MORE!" He growled. He lunged down onto his lover the men's lips melding. Logan's body began to ungulate in a sexy dance of passion, his elbows braced on either side of his lover's head. Logan's kisses moved down his lover, nipping at his neck. Will was thrusting in time to his lover's writhing, forcing little exclamations of pleasure from his lungs. "Logan! I'm coming!" He shouted. Logan began slamming their bodies together they would both have bruises tomorrow from their colliding bodies. Who knew this shy little musician could be such a monster in bed? Will roared and embedded himself deep within his lover, exploding his seed into his plastic casing. He felt his stomach being flooded with another dose of his lover's cumm as the boy shuddered on top of him. They rested, their pulses and breathing gradually returning to normal. Slowly Will's fading member slid out of his lover's loose hole. He gently reached down and slid the offensive plastic off, dropping it in the trash next to his bed. He wiped his finger on the sheets and stroked his lover's back. "We're all icky, sweetheart." He felt a tired little chuckle shake his lover. The boy slid stickily off him and flopped onto the bed. He slid out and went to the bathroom and wetted a small towel. He brought it back to the bed and the vision of his young love lying, smile on his face, in his sheets, with cumm on his face and chest, waiting for his return. If he hadn't already been in love, he would have fallen then. As it was, he nearly collapsed at the sight of the joy in his lover's eyes. As he reached the bed he bent down and kissed those luscious lips tenderly, caressing his lover and love with his soul. A single tear rolled down his nose, and Logan licked it up. Their eyes met and such love was there that it was amazing that the Day didn't start early because the sun was jealous. Will wiped down their bodies and threw the towel back into the bathroom. He collapsed back onto the bed and Logan wrapped himself around the bigger man. "Will?" Logan whispered, unmoving. "Yes, love?" Will stroked the boy's back. "I want to stay here forever." Will closed his eyes. It wasn't his house that Logan wanted, or the city, or anything like that. Logan wanted to stay snuggled up with Will forever, together in their little cocoon of love and caring. "So do I, love, so do I." Logan smiled against his lover's chest, curled up closer and drifted into a sound and dreamless sleep.