6 comments/ 10912 views/ 22 favorites The Curative Pt. 01 By: Rosenkrantz Hey, so I've been writing this one on my blog and GA, and it's much shorter, so I'll only be posting it here every three chapters or so. I hope you like it, and thanks for reading. Oh, and Minute by Minute will be up in about a week, thanks for being patient and for all the wonderful comments(: ****** The house I pulled up to looked nice. Like the pictures, at least, which was a good start. Half the other places I'd looked at were garbage dumps that looked nothing like the pictures they'd put up. Bailey jumped onto my lap, smushing the paper I was holding and slobbering all over my face. "Bailey stop it!" I grabbed her nose and held it away from me, frowning as hard as I could into her big brown eyes. She didn't get it. She wriggled and yipped until she was free and flopped over, begging me for a tummy rub. I acquiesced and read through the ad again. I'd talked to the guy renting out the room a few times, but he seemed pretty stiff. Still, even if he was a grouchy old man, the rent was cheap, and I was running out of time to find a place. I hefted Bailey back over onto her seat and told her to stay, which was of course obeyed by bounding into my warm spot as soon as I got out. I walked up the walkway to the door and knocked. A dog barked once and the door swung open. But nobody was there. I peeked inside, but all I saw was a big german shepherd smiling up at me. He padded a few feet towards the kitchen then stopped and looked back at me. "Just follow him! I'm in the kitchen!" The deep baritone startled me, but I obeyed and followed the dog around the corner. In front of me, washing his hands at the sink, was possibly the hottest man I'd ever laid eyes on. He was utterly masculine. Sharp, shadowed jaw line, aquiline nose, a rakish slash of a mouth, and piercing dark blue eyes that were currently staring with great annoyance into mine. "If you keep staring, this isn't going to work." I could feel my cheeks heating up a thousand degrees. "Sor-sorry." I blushed again and jerked my head down to stare at my feet instead. I heard squeaking, then "Whatever, kid. It happens all the time, but if you're gonna live here, you're gonna have to get used to it." Arrogant prick! I jerked back up to tell him just what I thought about him, but my mind went blank. Wheelchair. That's what he was talking about. He was in a wheelchair. Oh. "Shut your mouth, kid. Jeez. Come on." He wheeled around me and into the living room. The dog followed him, lying at his feet when he stopped. "So-so-sorry!" "Just come on! Sit down already." I nervously shuffled over to the couch and sat down. Silence permeated the air. I stared down at my shaking fingers. Finally, he sighed. "Okay, guess we should get started. This place has a downstairs, that I've obviously never seen, but if you want to check it out, the stairs are just on the other side of the kitchen. The whole space would be yours, though you'd also have to do all the furnishing and such by yourself. You said you have a dog?" I glanced up and nodded hesitantly. "What his name?" "Ah, her name is B-Bailey. She's a C-Cocker Spaniel." He grinned and leaned over to pet the German Shepherd. "This here's Mason, he's my official service dog, and running around here somewhere is Oscar, my Border Collie. He's trained too, but he's a lazy fuck. I've got two cats as well, Butch and Baxter. You wanna run down and check the space out? If you like it, we'll talk about introducing them." I nodded and shot up, nearly running to the kitchen. I found the stairs easily and journeyed downstairs. It was completely dark since it was never used, but right then, I didn't care. I sunk to the floor at the bottom of the steps. I stared at my hands, willing them to stop shaking. I hadn't had an episode in almost a year; this was the last thing I needed. He probably already thought I was a freak. I took a few deep breaths and eventually managed to stand without wobbling. I flipped up the light switch and looked around. The space was pretty nice, a decently sized bedroom and a den area that I could use for my TV. There were no windows, but as long as I had light, I could deal. I slowly made my way back upstairs and into the kitchen, where he was opening up the oven and pulling out a sheet of oatmeal cookies. I couldn't help giggling a little, the contrast between his personality and what he was doing was too funny. He looked up at the noise and smirked, "So, did you like it?" "Uhm, y-yeah. Plenty of space. So uh, B-Bailey's in my car. Should I go get her?" He finished scraping the cookies onto a plate and held it out towards me. "Want one?" When I shook my head, he shrugged and grabbed one for himself. "Yeah, in a second. First we should talk over some of the more technical stuff. Make yourself comfortable." I settled down in one of the dining chairs and waited patiently for him to stop chomping down on his cookie. "So, rent would be three-fifty a month, that still okay?" I nodded and he continued. "No friends over unless you discuss it with me, including girlfriends or whatever. Clean up after yourself, I don't wanna hafta be moving stuff out of the way when I'm rolling through here. If you get groceries and don't mind sharing, remember to put as much as possible in the lower drawers. It'll also be your job to keep the yard clean. I usually pay the kid who drops off my groceries to do it, but since you'll be here and a third of it'll be your responsibility anyways, you might as well. Okay?" He looked at me as if he dared me to challenge anything he'd said. When I just nodded again, his shoulders seemed to relax the tiniest bit. "Ah, Mr. Rollins?" He raised an eyebrow at me and pierced me again with those eyes. "Ah-ah I should probably tell you something first." My breath froze in my throat. He huffed impatiently and scowled at me. "Well, spit it out, would you?" "I-I-I... I'm... I'm-" "Jeez kid, how old are you?" Startled, I told him, "Twenty-six." Now he looked surprised, "No kiddin'? You don't look hardly old enough to drink. Go on, what were you gonna tell me before? And don't call me Mr. Rollins again. I'm hardly any older than you. It's Logan." I pulled in a shuddering breath and blew it all out in one fast rush. "I'm gay." I stared down at my fingers again, which were clenched together tightly to try and quell their shaking. My mind ran through all the scenarios I was sure were going to happen. He'd throw me out, set his dog me, run me over with his wheelchair in retribution for defiling his house. Instead I got a soft snicker. "Why would I judge you, kid? I get discriminated against enough, I wouldn't put that pain on anyone else. Besides," His eyes twinkled and his smirk pumped up to full wattage. "I'm gay too." He guffawed and rolled away towards the living room. I sat, rolling his words over in my head. "Wait, what?" "Go get your dog!" ****** "Mason! Open the door!" I yelled, desperately trying not to drop the loads of grocery bags I had valiantly wrapped around my arms with a selfish wish to not make a return trip out into the burning heat. Bailey yipped at my feet, wagging her tail and holding her one little item happily between her teeth. I heard an answering bark inside, and the door swung open. I stumbled into the house and towards the kitchen. "Close the door, goddamnit!" Logan was being his usual cranky self, obviously. The door clicked shut as Mason obeyed, and I heard the squeaking of Logan's wheelchair as he followed me into the kitchen. I hurriedly began stuffing the groceries into the cupboards. "Here, gimme the fridge stuff." He grabbed a bag out of my hand and snorted at the contents. Pudding and popsicles. "You're gonna get fat, boy." I blushed and started moving faster, throwing everything into random lower drawers. "Hey, calm down. Here's the money for the groceries." He slapped a wad of bills down on the counter and started to roll out of the room. "I-I can't t-take that..." I said it as quietly as I could, but he still jerked to a stop and rolled back towards me. "Why the hell not?" He crossed his arms and glared. "M-most of it was just my prescriptions anyways..." I fidgeted with the last item, which unfortunately belonged in the cupboard directly behind him. "Listen kid, if you're trying to be all high and mighty 'cause I'm a fucking cripple, then you can get the hell out. It's only been two weeks, I don't mind kicking you out on your ass." "N-no! I swear, here l-look at the bill, it's all p-pretty much mine." I yanked the receipt out of my pocket and shoved it at him, my hand shaking. He grabbed it and looked it over, whistling when he saw the total. Oh no... How stupid could I get? "Shit kid, what d'ya need all these pills for?" He glanced up at me, then back down at the bill, murmuring. I made a grab for the slip of paper, but he whipped it away and tucked it in his pocket. "G-give it b-back!" "Not till you tell me what all those are for. I'll look it up if you don't. If you're crazy or somethin' you shoulda told me before I let you move in here." "I'm not crazy!" I yelled and slammed the box of pop-tarts down on the counter. I turned on my heel and booked it for the stairs, nearly falling over my feet on the stairs trying to get to my room. I slammed through my bedroom to the bathroom and the medicine cabinet. Scrambling through all of the bottles and little boxes, I finally found the tube I was looking for. My hands shook violently as I tried to get the top off, and I barely managed to get two pills out without dropping the container. I dry swallowed and sunk back against the bathroom door, trying to calm down. Eventually the meds took effect and when I finally stopped shaking enough to make it safely to my bed; I crawled into it and fell promptly asleep. I awoke a few hours later to the sound of scratching at the door. Oh, Bailey. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and shuffled over to open it. "I hear you! Get up here, boy!" Holy shit, did he have superhuman ears? "I said get up here!" He bellowed out again. I shrugged down at Bailey, who yipped happily and bounded up the stairs. Traitor. I made my way up as slowly as possible. Hand on the railing, one step at a time. I guess I took long enough that Logan got frustrated, because he wheeled over to wait for me at the top of the stairs, frowning disapprovingly. When I finally made it to the top, he glared at me for a second longer before yanking me down onto his lap and taking off for the living room. "Hey! W-what!" "Shut up, kid. Took too long." As soon as we hit the living room rug, he shoved me off his lap and started talking. "You piss me off. First you come in here, ask to live in my house with your goddamn female dog, then you stick down in your room all the goddamn time, and then when you finally manage to speak to me without chokin' up your words, you run outta here like a bat outta hell." He huffed and set his jaw, daring me to talk back. I paled and scrambled to get up on the couch. "I-I'm sorry. Di-did you look up my p-prescriptions?" He huffed again, scowling, then abruptly looked away. "No. And I ain't gonna." Phew. A huge wave of relief blew through me and I sagged into the couch. "But if you start doin' any crazy stuff, I won't hesitate to pull that fuckin' receipt out and look you up, got it?" He growled. I nodded enthusiastically and tried to smile at him. "Thank you." He scowled again and grabbed the remote. I made to get up, but his hand whipped out and shoved me back down. "Siddown. We're gonna watch football. The Texans are on tonight." I couldn't help groaning and throwing my head back against the pillows. I hated football. The bastard snickered. ******   Logan hadn't brought up the prescription issue again, thankfully. Things had gotten easier between us, though. I came up and watched movies or TV with him almost every night now, though I vehemently refused to watch football with him again. I swear to god my heart just about gave out when the Texans got the winning touchdown and Logan bellowed and started racing around the living room doing wheelies and scaring the hell out of the cats. I caught him staring at me all the time now, as if he was trying to forcibly pry answers out through my ears with his eyes. The first time I caught him, I know I turned red as a tomato, and now I think he just does it to get a rise out of me. Smarmy bastard. It didn't help that for all his faults, he was still just as gorgeous as the day I had first seen him. If anything, his gruffness only made my crush worse. "Ow!" That's what I get for trying to make dinner. I swear, even the pots know I'm two shots short of crazy. I wiped the scalding water of my hand and checked the noodles again before slamming a lid down on the offending pot. "You okay, kid? I can take over, you know." Logan rolled into the kitchen and took the lid off another pot on the lowered stove. He grabbed the spatula and started poking around, picking up a long piece of meat. "What the fuck is this?" "Bacon." "Bacon. In spaghetti. I'm from Texas and I ain't never heard of that." He leveled a stare at me and growled "I'm hungry as a new mama penguin. You mess this up, you pay for the pizza." My eyes went wide, "Mama penguin?" "Shut up. I know things." He huffed at me haughtily and headed towards the living room. "Whadd'ya wanna watch tonight? It's your pick." I turned back to my spaghetti and thought for a few minutes. We'd already been through most of my favorites, Dante's Peak, Armageddon, Twister. "You don't pick somethin' soon, we're watching Commando again!" I groaned. What was up with him and the Arnold? I poked my head around the corner and waved at the movie case, "Uhm, D-Deep Impact?" "What is it with you and the disaster crap? Where's the fun in watching some volcano kill everyone? I'd rather watch hot guys in face paint go gun crazy." He grabbed it off the case anyways and loaded it into the DVD player. "And stop stuttering." I blushed and ducked my head, hurrying back over to the stove. Everything looked done, so I switched off the stove and turned to grab plates. "Ah!" My foot hit the counter and I tumbled towards the floor. Ow. Jesus that hurt. I rubbed my elbow where I had banged it on my way down and sat, pouting for a moment. "You're the clumsiest motherfucker I've ever met." Logan smirked down at me from his chair, amusement bright in his eyes. Yeah, well. "F-fuck you." He just snickered. Goddamnit he frustrated me. I pointedly ignored him as I situated my legs and tried to stand. And fell right back down. This time he didn't just snicker, he full out cackled. I gave up. I could feel heat suffusing my cheeks, and childish tears jumped to my eyes. My hands started to shake and I stuffed them into my armpits so that he wouldn't see. "Aw, come on." Logan sounded almost contrite, once his laughter died down. I heard his wheel s squeaking as he rolled towards me. I scooched myself further into the kitchen, refusing to look at him. "Now now, none of that." Suddenly his hands closed around my upper arms and dragged me backwards and up, straight into his lap. "Logan!" Christ. What was he trying to do to me? I could feel the warmth of his body against me, and his arms locked around my torso, caging me in. My cheeks burned brighter than ever and I struggled against him. I was not going to embarrass myself further by letting him see how turned on I was by a little touching. I shoved against him, finally managing to flop myself back onto the floor in a disgruntled heap. He growled menacingly and reached for me again, grabbing my shirt and hauling me upright. I still refused to look at him, crossing my arms across my lap so that there wouldn't be any evidence of my arousal. He sighed and I felt a fleeting touch across my hair. "Fuck, kid. Calm down." He reached for my hand and pressed it between his palms, stilling my shakes. "Go get your meds and take what you need, then get your ass back here and we'll eat." I bobbed my head, still looking at the floor, and raced off for my bathroom. When I came back, Logan had situated himself on the couch, with Baxter in his lap. The rest of our little troupe was strewn around the room, tails wagging and tongues dripping. "Don't just stand there; I got your food here and the movies 'bout to start." He shoved a plate heaped with spaghetti and a lake of sauce at me. We watched the movie in silence. I silently drooled over Elijah Wood. And for all Logan's grumbling, I swear I could see his eyes get watery when Elijah dragged Leelee onto his moped and they escaped the wave, leaving her parents to die. When it was over, I started grabbing all of the plates and garbage. I reached for his, but his hand clamped down over my wrist. "Set it down, boy." My breath quickened and I nervously set the plates down, trying not to drop everything since he still held my free hand captive. "Look at me." I could feel my bones vibrating as I turned my eyes up. His eyes were locked onto mine, fiercely blue and intimidating. His mouth was slightly open, his breath escaping in short pants. "Goddamn." I barely heard the word, just watched his lips move. There was a slight jerk, and suddenly I was sprawled across his Logan's lap. "I-I'm so-sorry!" I tried to get up, terrified that he was going to laugh at me again. "Idiot, I pulled you down." His hands locked around my arms and pulled me so that I was facing him, still in his lap. "I'm really not that scary, am I?" I shook my head. "Good. You've been getting better with your words, but today it got worse again because I made fun of you. I'm sorry." He tilted my head up so that I was forced to look at him, waiting until I nodded to let go. "All right. Now that that's out of the way." His large hand wrapped around the back of my neck, encasing it in warmth. I shuddered and closed my eyes. His other hand pushed at my hip, arranging me so that I was lying across him. What was he doing? I slowly opened my eyes, taking a peek at him. He was staring up at me, smirking. The hand at me neck drew me downwards. No way! Was he going to kiss me? No way no way no way. My heart thundered in my chest and I couldn't breathe. His breath fanned across my face, "Breathe, boy." I squeaked. He chuckled. His lips touched mine. I immediately went limp in his arms and they tightened around me. I sunk into him, letting his hands control me. His lips were warm, and I could still feel his smirk even as he kissed me. I tentatively po ked out my tongue and licked his bottom lip. He groaned and returned the movement with force. His hands ran over my body, squeezing and groping. Riiiiing. Riiiiing. Riiiiing. "What the fuck?" Logan peeled his mouth away from mine with a growl. One of his hands left mine to slap at the end table behind him, looking for the phone. Riiiiing. Riiiiing. Riiiiing. "Fucking phone!" His bellow startled me out of the daze his kisses had put me into and I jumped up. He made a swipe for me, but I backed away. I ignored his frown and escaped to the kitchen. Holy fuck. Logan and I had made out. We'd kissed. A lot. And it was good kissing. My boner throbbed just thinking about it. I shook my head and grabbed the pots and pans, shoving them into the sink and turning the hot water on. We'd kissed! Wash pot. I touched my lips. Wash another pot. My erection was not going down. I shoved my hand under the water. "Ow!" "Ryan? Come here." I froze. Hyperventilating yet again, I shyly walked into the living room. Logan was holding the phone, looking down at it quizzically. He heard me come in and held the phone out. The Curative Pt. 01 "It's your mom." Well, there went my erection. The Curative Pt. 02 "Ryan." Logan's voice reverberated through my dream. We were walking through a field, well, I was walking, and Logan was riding on the back of a very large Mason. He was shirtless and sweaty, and he looked like an erotic Loki riding into battle on the back of Fenrir. He pulled me up to sit in front of him, caressing my sides with his large hands, leaning forward as if to kiss me, wiggling his finger into my bellybutton... Wait, what? "Ryaaaaan." "Wha-ah! Stop it, stop it!" I was yanked from my Norse Logan dream by real Texas Logan attacking my ribs. His fingers found all of my tender spots and soon I was a boneless panting heap sprawled across Logan's lap and the couch. I glared as evilly as I could up at his grinning face. He chuckled and planted a kiss on my forehead before disentangling himself and reaching for his wheelchair. "Your mom called again." I groaned. "Either tell her to fuck off or just let her visit, because I'm getting mighty tired of her calling every three fucking hours." "I'm sorry Logan, I haven't seen her in 8 years, I don't know why she's being so insistent." Thinking of the damned woman made every bit of playfulness I had felt with Logan drain away. Why the fuck was she trying to get back into my life now? Fingers drifted through my hair, calming me, and I instinctively nuzzled against them. Lips brushed across my forehead again before settling on my own. It was gentle, not the rough and desperate crush that had been our first kiss. "I like this side of you, kid. I almost don't remember the nervous idiot that walked in here with his damn girl dog asking for a room." "You like Bailey." I reached up and twisted my fingers through his. He smirked. "Nah, you're just lucky Oscar has the hots for her." The subject of our conversation came bounding into the room, yipping excitedly. She leapt over Mason, lying at the base of the couch, and straight onto my groin. "Bailey, no! Ohhhh."I shoved Bailey off and curled around my poor organs. Logan was laughing hysterically, the bastard had no sympathy. I briefly considered giving him a glimpse of what twenty pounds of dog straight on your balls felt like, but thought better of it. Even in a wheelchair, Logan could run me down easily. Instead I scooped Bailey up and settled her, gently, into lap. "What do you think I should do about my mom?" I asked, focused on straightening out Bailey's floppy ears. Logan's laughter died down and I could practically hear the gears turning in his head. "Will you tell me why you don't want her here? I mean, she seems nice enough." I snorted, "She's polite. Not nice. I don't think she even knows what the word means." "Well, okay. Tell me, Ry. I wanna know more 'bout you. You know about my ma and my brothers and Texas, but I don't know hardly anything about you." I blushed at the reminder of the night we had spent on the couch. We'd been watching another one of his Arnold movies, and somehow I ended up curled against him, my head on his chest. I'd asked about Texas, and he'd regaled me with stories of his two brothers and how much hell they'd all put Logan's ma through. I learned about how Oaks were the best trees to climb, and how to wrangle a rattlesnake without getting bit. He told me about how their dad had left when his youngest brother was born, unable to deal with the pressure of three kids. His mom had raised them on her own from then on, and moved them all to Colorado after Logan had his accident. I'd fallen asleep listening to his voice, and had woken up curled safely within his arms, though slightly uncomfortable from lying on the stiff couch all night long. I felt guilty now, realizing that I really hadn't told him anything about myself. He had kept to his promise and had trusted me with my prescriptions, but I had yet to give him anything in return. I glanced up, nervously holding eye contact. "I... I came out when I was sixteen." Logan nodded encouragingly. "I don't know what I was expecting, I should have known it wouldn't go well. My father didn't even look at me. He j-just stared out the window while my mother told me how 'Those people are disgusting' and how she would n-not have any s-son of hers become one." I heard Logan's intake of breath, "Ry...." I waved away his hand when it reached for mine. "I'm not done." "They sent me to The Leviticus Curative, a homosexual rehabilitation camp in north Florida. I spent two months there, seeing counselors who swore they would 'make me better', and undergoing treatment after treatment of drugs to see which held my desires at bay. I had several treatments of ECT-" Logan gasped, "Ryan!" He rolled towards me, ignoring my insistence that he stay away, and took my face in his hands. His fingers wiped away tears that I hadn't noticed rolling down my cheeks. He gathered me against his chest kissed my face all over, then took my shaking hands and kissed them too. I sighed and curled into him, letting him comfort me. Unfortunately though, I still wasn't finished. "For the next two years, I went through continual drug treatments and random visits to the camp whenever my mom thought I was 'acting too gay'. My parents set up rules so that I wouldn't encounter any temptation, and so that they wouldn't get humiliated in the press. I wasn't allowed to go outside, they hired tutors to help me finish school, and they told all of my friends that I had decided to finish up school in Virginia with my aunt and her sons. I applied for CSU in secret with the help of one of my tutors. He helped me get everything I needed to get out. And the day I turned 18, I did." I could feel Logan shaking underneath me, his fingers clenching and unclenching my shirt rapidly. "How-fuck! Ry, how could they do that to you?" Logan's face was a picture of rage and confusion. "They're your parents for fuck's sake!" "They weren't so much my parents as they were rising stars on the political scene. When I left, my father was the Florida Secretary of State. Now he's the governor. Next he'll probably campaign for senate. He's staunchly republican, and if my being gay had gotten out, his whole party would've laughed at him. So they kept me out of the way." Logan sputtered. "I don't give a flying sideways fuck about senate or governor or any of that shit. They should be in jail!" I laughed weakly and buried my face into Logan's neck. "That's why they haven't contacted me for 8 years. They found me a few months after I moved, but I threatened to contact every media source in Florida and give them a full recount of my story if they called again." We sat for a few moments in silence, Logan's arms never wavering in their tight hold. Suddenly, our sad silence was interrupted, yet again, by the phone. Riiiiiing. Riiiiing. Riiiiing. I moved to get up but Logan clamped me down onto his lap and rolled over to the phone. His face looked calm, but his eyes were unreadable. He picked up the phone. "Who is this?" "May I speak with Ryan?" Logan's face contorted and his hand clenched on the phone, his knuckles turning scary white. "GO FUCK YOURSELF IN THE ASS WITH A CATTLE PROD, YOU FUCKING POLITICAL WHORE." He slammed the phone back into its cradle and stared at it, nostrils flaring. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped me, and I couldn't stop once I started. Logan looked down at me in shock, but soon he was laughing too, head thrown back and his chest heaving with great guffaws. Once we calmed down, I resituated so that I could face him comfortably while still on his lap. "Thank you, Logan. I think I figured something out." "What's that?" "You're the curative I needed this whole time. Of all the drugs I take, none has ever made me feel as sane as I do right now." Logan beamed so bright I thought he might have stolen some of the sun. "I'm glad I take some of your shakes away, kid." He kissed my cheek, then nibbled his way across my jaw to my ear. He chuckled when I gasped, and a hand teased its way under my shirt and up my ribs. I melted into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Riiiiiing. Riiiiiing. Riiiiiing. "You've got to be fucking kidding!" Logan bellowed, and I barely managed to jump out of his lap before his hand slammed down on the table. His upper lip was pulled up in disgust, and he was practically vibrating with suppressed violence. I took a deep breath and wrapped my arms around his shoulders from behind. "Don't answer it." "Why the fuck not?" "Because I just want to be happy right now. I don't want to think about her." I felt Logan's rigid muscles slowly relax, and his hand came up to rest on mine. He sighed, "I don't think she's going to give up." "We'll unplug the phone. We each have cell phones anyways." He nodded, "All right." ****** "Logan! We do not need any more snacks!" Goddamnit was he trying to piss me off? First this morning he uses the stairs as a playground for Bailey and Oscar, throwing tennis balls down at my door at seven in the morning. Then at breakfast he made pancakes for himself and all the dogs, but then claimed that he "forgot" about me. He's been pulling all these ridiculous stunts ever since that first kiss. I know he wants me to sleep upstairs with him but.... I-I'm just not ready for that yet. He hasn't explicitly said anything; he just finds excuses every night to keep me upstairs for five minutes longer. After we decided to unplug the phone, we spent another night on the couch, talking and holding each other. It was wonderful. Fucking amazing. But the next night, when he asked me if we could spend a night talking in his bed, instead of the couch, I hadn't been able to say yes.Ever since then he's been acting so freaking frustrating. I usually drive when we go out, it's just faster and more economical. He has his big wheelchair adapted truck, but it guzzles gas like a marathon runner guzzles water after racing across the Sahara. But this morning, Logan just had to drive his truck. And bring all the dogs. Usually it's just Mason, sometimes Bailey. Oscar's a fucking pain in the car. He shakes and jumps everywhere and if he gets too excited, we get pukey groceries. But now he's probably sitting in the back seat, luxuriating in a puddle of his own pee, all because Logan's being a stubborn jackass. And he's grabbing every single snack he see's off the shelf. I'm pushing the cart and trying to throw all the stuff he chucks in back out. Ritz, chewy bars, pop-tarts, tortilla chips, Doritos, Lay's, Oreo's, goldfish, is it ever going to end? Oh, and in goes some Pringles. "Logan! You don't eat half this stuff! Why is it in the cart?" I grabbed the damn Pringles and slammed them back on the shelf. "Stop being such a brat, kid. I just want some snacks for Sunday." He rolled his eyes like a teenager and rolled off ahead of me, probably to go get fifty fucking cups of yogurt. I pushed the cart faster. "Oh no you don't! You don't like snackey football food! You said it yourself, 'That shit's for pussies. You want real football food, eat like a man and have a brisket.' Did you not?" His jaw tightened, and I could see the back of his neck turn bright red. Instead of replying, he shot off, somehow managing not to flatten a little girl whose mother screamed and snatched her up, flipping Logan's back off. He turned the corner somewhere around the book aisle, disappearing from sight. Why was he acting like this? Things seemed to have been going well. We'd been much more relaxed without my mother calling twenty times a day, and I just kept falling. Yeah, that kind of falling. We kissed a lot and did a fair amount of groping, though I'd yet to touch him... down... there. He's an obnoxious son of a bitch, but he's been that way since I met him. It's just been getting worse. A lot worse. He does still have some sweet moments, though. Ugh. I sound like a girl. Bacon, we need more bacon. I wound up and down the aisles grabbing stuff we actually needed, coming to a stop when I finally reached Logan. He was blocking half the aisle, reading some flashy covered book upside-down. It was almost convincing. I sighed. "Logan, I need to grab my prescription. You wanna wait here or come with me?" He just waved a hand for me to walk by. God I wanted to throttle him. I steered noisily by him, making sure to hit his wheel as I passed. I picked up my prescription, then went to wait in line. Somehow right as I was about to dig through my wallet and get my card, Logan comes out of nowhere, shoving people out of his way and scowling ferociously at me. He throws his credit card at the cashier, growls, then grabs half the bags onto his lap and rolls away. What? I apologize to the people in line and grab the remaining bags. What was going on in that thick country head of his? I put everything in the backseat after checking for any Oscar fluids, then slowly climbed into the cab. "Okay, what was that abo—" "Just shut the fuck up, boy!" Logan thundered. I stared at him in shock; he'd never spoken to me that way. My hands trembled, and I clenched them between my legs. He glanced at me and rubbed a hand over his eyes before grinding his teeth and slamming the same hand against the dash. "Stop starin' at me!" My head snapped around like it was on a string. I watched the stores and houses go by, thoughts tumbling through my head. Maybe something had happened with his family? Would he have told me about something like that? Probably not. I was just the kid who lived downstairs, he called me that often enough. I should probably apologize, I hadn't had any right to ask him anything. It was his truck, his house, his rules. My chest hurt. I could feel the air in my lungs choke up, and I forced myself to breathe out slowly so that I wouldn't wheeze. I squeezed my legs tighter as I felt the trembling in my hands get worse. I needed to get my meds, but I wasn't about to reach for it when he could see. He'd probably just call me crazy again. I pressed myself as far up against the door as I could and waited for us to get home. Finally we pulled into the drive. As soon as Logan threw it in park I was out the door, grabbing groceries and letting the dogs out while he was slowly lifted down. All the bags except my prescription went on the counter, and then I was heading for the stairs. Right before I touched the banister, I paused. I turned back towards the front door and waited, head down. I heard Logan come through, still growling. I took a hesitant step forward and his growling stopped. "Whatchya want." He was still pissed, voice was deep with aggravation. My hands trembled again. "S-so-sorry." I did an about-face and raced for the stairs, not daring to look him in the eye. ****** I stayed huddled downstairs for the remainder of the day, writing my cover letter and application for the local middle school I was hoping to get hired at. I had wanted to bring it up to have Logan look it over once I was done, but that wasn't going to happen now. Tears jumped back into my eyes as I thought about him. What had I done? I set my laptop aside, no longer able to concentrate on listing out all of my references. What had I done wrong? Maybe he was frustrated with the new side of my personality. I couldn't help it though, I'd become comfortable with him, comfortable enough that I talked back and joked with him. I hardly ever needed my meds anymore, though I still took my regulars out of habit. Today was the first day in nearly two weeks where I'd actually needed them. My hands trembled as I remembered the car ride home. He'd never yelled at me like that, not even when I accidentally spilled a plate of burritos all over him and his wheelchair. Maybe something had happened with his family and he was just taking it out on me. But then wouldn't he be flying down to Conroe instead of dealing with it way up here? His family was close knit, if something happened, they dealt with it together. It had to be something I had done. I couldn't pin anything down, though. I flopped backwards on the bed, trying not to cry. He'd laugh at me if he knew; say I was a pussy boy. "Fuck me." Bailey was happily romping around with Oscar upstairs, so I was left pitifully alone to my thoughts. Suddenly I heard muffled yelling coming from upstairs. I listened harder; it sounded like Logan was ordering Mason around, though I doubted if even Mason would listen to him while he was in that mood. The yelling stopped and the sharp clicking of paws ventured closer, and then I heard the soft thumps of a dog running down the stairs. The thumps stopped outside my door and loud whining began. I ignored it. When he started pawing at the wood, I gave up and yanked the door open. Mason sat and whined at me from the other side. I reached for his head to give him a pat, but he jerked back and whined at me again. "What's wrong, Mace?" I asked in confusion. He howled and ran halfway up the stairs. "Oh hell no, I'm not going up there." I walked back into my room and shut the door. The whining started up again until a shout from Logan shut him up. There was another thump, and mason started whining softly. The other dogs started pitching in, Bailey yipping frantically while Oscar barked. I peeked my head outside my door to see what was going on, and saw Logan hanging onto to the banister and sliding himself down the stairs step by step. "Logan!" He looked up at my exclamation and I dashed back into my room and slammed the door. He still looked angry, though it might have just been concentration that was furrowing his brows. But still, why the fuck was he coming down here? And like that? Why... And I'd just left him there, no wonder he didn't like me anymore. I opened the door and hesitantly walked out. The look that came over his face was the last one I'd expected. Relief. "What are you doing, Logan? You're gonna hurt yourself." I walked up the steps and made to grab his arm, but he caught my hand and held it tightly. "Please sit down, Ry. Just here." "Why?" Instead of answering, he tugged sharply on my hand, toppling me to my knees beside him. I jerked my hand away from him and leaned as far back from him as I could. "Logan, stop! Just tell me what's going on." He grabbed for my hand again, frowning when I slid down a few steps and out of his reach. "Fine, fine. Jeez, kid, why d'ya have to want explanations for everything?" Really. After what he'd put me through this morning and for the last two weeks, he thought I wouldn't want a reason for all of his histrionics? "You've been acting like a jackass for weeks, Logan. I deserve some kind of explanation." He groaned and covered his face with his hands. He was silent for a few more moments, but eventually brought his hands down and looked at me. "Why won't you sleep with me?" I sputtered, "What does that have to do with anything? This is about you being an ass, not where I sleep!" "Actually it does, Ry. I didn't mean to get so swole up about it, but you kept denying me, and I..." He slammed his head back against the wall, causing the dogs to yip at us from where they were watching us intently at the top of the stairs. "Logan don't. What do you mean? If you're getting that pissed just because won't let you have my ass, then you're different than I thought you were." "What? No! Ry, not sex. I could wait years for that, but I want you next to me at night, like we do on the couch. I wanna be able to talk to you about your weird ass dreams before you've forgot them, and to be able to not worry about getting' up on time just so I can see you when you first get upstairs. And..." he paused again and hung his head. "And I want to make sure that you'll still want me after you've seen my legs." The Curative Pt. 02 "Why wouldn't I" I asked him, honestly confused. He laughed harshly and held out his hand for one of mine. I gave it to him and he pressed it hard against his calf. "Feel that, Ry? There's nothing there except bone and what little muscle I have left. I ain't a virgin, but no guy's stuck around long after he's seen my legs. I thought that's why you didn't want to sleep with me, that were scared of seeing my legs. God knows I'm terrified of the first time you get a real look at 'em, but I wanna get it over with." Was he serious? That's why he'd been acting so ridiculously? "Logan! Jesus, I don't care what your legs look like. That hasn't crossed my mind at all; they're you, that's all I care about. I didn't want to sleep with you because I basically am a virgin." "What do you mean basically? I figured you for innocent—" "What?" "--but what do you mean basically?" "How did you 'figure' me for innocent?" "I've only just taught you how to speak properly, I can't imagine you doing too well with anybody else, Ry." He stated like it was obvious. "But fuckin' tell me what you mean by basically." "You taught me?" I asked, incredulous. He threw his hands up in the air and glared at me. "Yes, boy, I did. Now, basically. Basically. What, you like toys or somethin'? I wouldn't mind playing around with a few if that's what you like." I blushed furiously. "No! I had sex once! That's what basically means." His face darkened and he slid down a step so that he was closer to me. "Once. When was that? Who was he?" "Uh, some guy that I met right after I moved to Colorado? We were taking the same class, and I did it mostly to spite my parents, I guess. It isn't exactly a memory I treasure, so that's why I said basically." Logan's mouth set into a harsh line and he spoke, his voice gruff and deeper than I'd ever heard it. "Did he hurt you?" "No, not really. It was just my first time, and he didn't really know what to do any better than I did. It was mostly just embarrassing for the both of us." His shoulders relaxed a touch and he leaned towards me, "Nobody else?" "Nobody else, promise. What, are you jealous?" He scoffed, "I'm from Texas, boy." "Does that mean you do or don't get jealous?" He scoffed again and reached up for the banister, hauling himself up a step. "So you sleepin' with me tonight? No sex, just talkin' and sleepin'." I searched his face for a moment, then decided what the hell. If it would put him in a better mood, I could buck up and make him happy. It wasn't like I didn't want to, I was just being chicken . "Yeah, I'll sleep with you." He smirked and reached out a hand for me. "Good, now help me up these goddamn stairs." I put my hand in his and leaned towards him, meaning to sling his arm around my shoulders, but he grabbed the back of my neck and crushed his lips to mine in a fierce kiss. "That's for bein' a good boy." I laughed and punched him in the stomach, "I'd have thought you liked your boys a little naughty, Logan, but if you like 'em behaved and proper, I guess that's what I'll do." His face turned red and the hand on my neck tightened reflexively. "Fuck Ry, if I had you upstairs..." I grinned and pressed another kiss to his lips.