The Lovers in Rossford

[ChrisGibson]

SUNDAY CONTINUED


Lance Bishop was a tall, narrow, employee at the Abercrombie
and Fitch in the mall, and he looked like an employee of the
Abercrombie and Fitch at the mall: tight faded jeans, tight
faded shirt, too small hoodie. He stood at the entrance of
Dylan’s room and said, “What’s up?”
“My cousin just published her first book.”
“Cool,” Lance said. Jamming his hands in his pockets, he
slinked into the room and sat at the desk chair. “You gonna do
some of that too? Or keep playing trumpet?”
Dylan shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “Maybe. Probably
trumpet, though.”
Again, Lance said, “Cool.”
Dylan was about to say that Lance was a man of limited
words, but then Lance said, “It’s been a dull weekend.
Weekends are always boring when you go to your other
Dad’s.”
“It’s not like you couldn’t come over there.”

“I know,” Lance said. But this didn’t seem to effect
anything. Dylan wondered where half of his questions and
conversations went with Lance.
“Ruthven called last night.”
“Really?” Lance looked up.
That had pricked something.
“I didn’t talk to him,” Dylan said. “He called. It was for my
goddad really. So I just said I didn’t want to talk to him.”
“Well, good,” Lance said. Dylan wondered, if Lance weren’t
so good looking, then would it be so apparent how insecure he
was?
Lance sat with his legs wide apart and put his hands
together, cracking his knuckles. He furrowed his brow and
Dylan knew he was about to make a pronouncement.
“He never treated you very well. I don’t think you should
talk to him at all.”
And there was the pronouncement.
Lee came out of his office.
“Yes?” Tom looked up at him.
“Fuck it,” Lee said.
He came and sat down beside his partner.
“What did you have to say to me, Tommy?”
Tom smiled triumphantly at him, and then twisted around
and said, “Just that I really don’t like Lance, but not because
he’s bad.”
“No?”
“No,” Tom said. “Because he’s stupid. I think that Dylan
could do better.”
“He’s not Dylan’s boyfriend. Just because your son is gay
doesn’t mean every boy he knows is his love interest.”
“I know,” Tom said, though Lee wondered if he really did.
“But he could still do better… Whatever he is.”
“Um hum,” Lee nodded. He got up and went toward the
window.
“By the way, Tom.”
“Yes?”
“Ruthven called last night.”

Well, Lee thought, that would shut him up for a while.
Layla started out of her nap, and Will was chuckling as she
awoke.
“You!” she said, sitting up, and pulling his face to her,
kissed him.
“Is my breath too bad?”
“I should be asking the same thing,” Will said. “I should be
asking if I smell like the road?”
“The road? You only traveled from Chicago.”
“That’s enough road.”
“And did Milo get that popcorn from the gas station and lie
to Dena about it?”
“Not the gas station,” Will said, sitting on the bed beside
Layla, while she wrapped an arm around him and stroked his
hair back. “The Walgreens across from Loretto.”
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
“And Bren and Kenny?”
“They ought to come home.”
“Brendan doesn’t want to give up on Chicago.”
“He wouldn’t be giving up,” Will said.
“I agree. But Brendan doesn’t. He thinks he’s got to stay in
the big city. Conquer it or something like that.”
Will said: “I think it’ll make Kenny miserable.”
“Again, I agree.”
And then Will said, “But this isn’t supposed to be about
them. What about you? What’s your news?”
“You didn’t see it? It was on the desk.”
“On the desk?”
Will got up and left the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the
bed, Layla waited, eagerly. And then she heard a shout and a
few moments later Will came running into her room.
“Lay-Lah!”
“Yeah,” she nodded while he displayed the book.
He jumped on the bed with her and hugged her. They
rolled around. She said, “And it’s so glossy. Isn’t it? And it’s so
pretty.”
Will opened it up, stuck his face in and smiled at her over
the corners. “And it smells good!”

Layla nodded. She loved that her man loved the smell of a
new book.
Will kissed her. He kissed her again and then he put the
book down.
“Layla… I think we should…”
She smiled at him, pulling away.
“I think we should too. After—”
“After I shower?”
“After you shower.”
Layla remembered lying on the bed, watching Will come back
into the room, Will unwinding the towel from around his loins
and moving through the ritual of combing his hair, rubbing
down his flesh with oil, rolling deodorant under his arms. He
lay across the bed while she scribbled words, and then they
loved each other, and when it was done they didn’t hold onto
each other. They never did that. They lay side by side and Layla
closed her eyes savoring the memory of him, her clenching and
unclenching her hands and feet, squeezing that inside place.
She drifted off to sleep like that, and when she came to, Will
was still snoring beside her, his head turned away.
She climbed out of bed and wrapped herself in a robe. She
thought of putting real clothes on, but not right now. Layla
went downstairs and into the kitchen, enjoying the feeling of
being Mrs. Will, of having him back here. The phone rang and
she picked it up quickly.
“Layla?”
Out of the voices she knew, Layla had to check her mental
register to see whom it was.
“Meredith?’
“Yeah.”
“I heard you had some huge news.”
“What?” Layla had actually forgotten about the book. And
then she said, “Yeah.”
“I think that’s great, Layla. I think you’re my new hero. Not
that you weren’t before.”

“Well, of course,” Layla’s hip bumped the refrigerator door
shut after she pulled out a yogurt.
“But I have some news to run by you. I mean, I have
something important.”
“All right?” Layla said.
“I’ll tell you when I get there. It’s one of those ‘tell you
when I get there’ sort of things.”
“Yes,” Chay answered while he was washing the dishes.
Sheridan was on the bed with books and papers spread out,
and he put his pencil half down and said, “Yeah, what?”
Chay frowned.
“To your question. Earlier. Don’t you remember?”
“Huh?”
“Well, if you’re going to be that way, I think I’ll change my
mind.”
Sheridan was being that way. His head was full of French
and history and only now did he remember what Chay might
have been talking about.
“Is this about us?”
“Yes,” Chay said, shutting off the water.
Sheridan stopped for a moment. He smiled and said, “Is
this about us moving in together?”
“It was going to be,” Chay said, feigning injury. “But if you
don’t care as much as it seems you don’t care, all that packing I
was thinking about doing, I just might unthink.”
Sheridan jumped up and came across the room, catching
Chay’s wrists.
“Ouch! Abuse! Abuse!”
Sheridan kissed him tenderly on the lips and let him go.
“Don’t you even think about not packing. I’ll go home and
tell your folks myself. We’re gonna be roomies.”

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was an excellent portion! This Lance character seems like he might be trouble but I don't know really what to think of him yet. I am glad Chay and Sheridan are probably going to be roommates! Layla has come so far compared to where she started out! Great writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Layla has come a long way, and there will be more of her coming into her own as the story goes on. Sheridan and Chay do seem bound for glory and we'll see where all of that goes too. Why do you think Lance seems like he might be trouble?

 

[CharmedFan28]

Layla has come a long way, and there will be more of her coming into her own as the story goes on. Sheridan and Chay do seem bound for glory and we'll see where all of that goes too. Why do you think Lance seems like he might be trouble?

He just seems a bit bossy and controlling I guess. I don't know him that well yet so my opinion could change.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Or.... it might not.

 

[ChrisGibson]

SUNDAY CONTINUED


When Meredith reached the house, Layla was dressed, and she
thought about laying coffee out or some nonsense like that,
but they were old friends, so she just turned on the TV and
told her to help herself to the refrigerator.
“There is some Chinese food from a few nights before.”
Meredith came back with the last of the orange chicken,
and she was halfway through it before Layla said, “I trust you
didn’t just come here to eat up all my food. You had
something to say, right?”

“Right,” Meredith told her. “It’s Mathan,”
“He’s an axe murderer?”
“Not quite.”
“He’s a bigamist?”
“Not even that.”
“Alright?”
“He’s asked to marry me.”
“Well,” Layla sat up.
Then she said, “Why the delay?”
“Well, you and Will have been together so long, and…
You’re not married. So I thought I’d ask you first. I wanted to
know why you didn’t get married.”
“My mother always told me marriage was a compromise,”
Layla said without missing a beat. “She told me marriage was
about making do, looking the other way, putting up with,
doing what you didn’t want and I knew I didn’t want that. So I
just didn’t have it. Fenn and Todd looked happy and, of
course, they aren’t married. So I think part of me thought, well
that’s for me.”
Meredith nodded.
“I thought the same thing. But then Dad got married to
Nell, and it seems to work.”
“I know. My mom’s second marriage is pretty happy too.”
“And of course, with you, if you married Will, how would it
change things?”
“We keep steering away from that. I think we like how we
are. I think we don’t want to be everyone else. Everyone thinks
that’s the next step. You know me. High school, then college,
then work, that’s the next step.” Layla shook her head and
grinned, “I never believed in the next step. I believed in
creating my own way. I’ve always been afraid that if you keep
taking the next step then the next step, the one everyone else
decides for you, then one day you’ll just end up stepping
yourself into the grave.”
“That’s a good answer,” Meredith said.
“And then,” Layla admitted, “It could also be fear.”

“You’re the most fearless person I know.”
“Well, I’d like to think that’s true, but I think I just put on a
good face. Maybe we don’t get married because I’m afraid it
would change things. Make them dull. Make us dull.
“I don’t know,” Layla said.
“Maybe I don’t want to know.”



“You’re so quiet,” Brendan said.
“Am I?” Kenny was sitting on the sofa, sketching.
“Well, yeah.”
“I don’t think I am,” Kenny differed. “I think you’re just
used to having our friends around for the last few days.”
“You always get like this,” Brendan said after a while.
“When they leave.”
“Do I?”
“And you always answer everything with a question.”
Kenny gave a ghost of a smile and sat up.
“I guess,” he said. “It’s only… Don’t you miss it?”
“Rossford?”
“Yes. Home. Don’t you miss it? Don’t you miss our friends
and our family? What the hell are we doing here?”
“Making it. Trying to make it.”
“No, Bren, you’re trying to make it. You’re trying to be the
great attorney. I’m just your wife.”
Brendan looked at him.
“Are you trying to tell me you don’t want to be in Chicago
anymore?”
“I’m trying to tell you we’re not doing this for us, we’re
doing it for you.”
And then Kenny added, “And I don’t know why you think
Chicago is the place to make it. Lawyers are everywhere, and
here you’re competing with Harvard grads and stuff. Back in
Rossford: now, that’s the place.”
“So you’re saying I’m not good enough for Chicago.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Kenny sat up.
“Well, you know what?” Brendan said, “You may be right.”
“Bren.”
“No, I’m thirty. I’m an associate with scuffed shoes I have
to re-polish everyday. I see a hundred of me every minute.
Tons of gay boys with plum or lime green tight shirts, skinny
ties, dress slacks and fierce shoes, all trying to be the power
something. And they’re younger than me. Maybe they can’t tell
it at once, but I can. You’re not saying anything I haven’t
thought every day of my life here.”

“Bren,” Kenny stood up. “Bren I’m not saying that at all.”
He gripped Brendan’s shoulders. “I’m saying I want to go
home. I’m saying I love coming here to visit here, but I hate
living here. I’m saying I haven’t found my place, and I miss
Will and Milo, and all of our friends. And every time they leave
I feel so sad and so lonely and… if you think you won’t make
it as a lawyer, I know I won’t make it as a painter. I miss
making music with Milo or watching Layla write. I miss
home.”

Brendan, who was prepared to be angry, earlier, nodded his
head and turned away.
“Kenny, maybe you should go.”
The roar of the El at the Fullerton stop filled their ears, and
as it screeched around the block, Kenny looked at Brendan.
“I don’t mean it in a harsh way, and I don’t mean it cause
I’m angry. I mean it because everything you’re telling me is
everything I already know.
“I know,” Brendan said, “how you feel here. I know you
came here to support me. I thought I’d have a good place for
us. This is my dream, if it’s a dream at all, and… Is there a
reason why you can’t go home to Rossford and just come to
me every few days? Maybe on the weekend. Maybe…”
“The reason is a twenty dollar a day train habit,” Kenny
said. “The reason is because we can’t afford two places. The
reason is because I’m not going to be parted from you.”
Brendan nodded. “I think I’ve always hid from myself what
I know. How much you miss home.”
“I do,” Kenny said. “But I couldn’t go back to Rossford
without you. Thank you for offering, but we’re in this
together.”
Brendan’s phone buzzed and he reached into his pocket.
“Hello?” he started.
“Go to Bookmerchant Online,” Will charged.
“All right…?” Brendan said.
“Kenny, turn the computer on.”
Kenny nodded. He sat at the desk overlooking the street.
Below the neighborhood children were playing. A cyclist rode
by. It was a good city.
“Type in Layla Lawden.”
“Uh…” Brendan ran his tongue around in his mouth. “All
right.”
Brendan repeated the instructions to Kenny, and then a few
moments later, Kenny said, “What the fuh… Naw. No. Get
out!”
“What?” Brendan said, turning from the phone.
“Get over here!” Kenny told him.
Kenny scooted over so Brendan could sit down beside him,
and Brendan said, “Oh, my God! Oh… Get out! Oh… I’m all
the way here in Chicago trying to make it big, and Layla didn’t
even leave Rossford.”
“You wanna talk to her?” Will said.
“Sure thing. Yeah.”
There was a link where you could open up the book and
look through pages, and Kenny was busy at it now. Brendan
got up and went into the kitchen.
“Layla, I can’t believe this. I mean, I can. I mean… I’ll be
able to say I knew you when.”
“I guess you will,” Layla said, humbly.
“This is the news you had for Will, huh?”
“Better than the pregnancy scare?”
“I dunno,” Brendan said. “Everyone needs a good
pregnancy scare.”
And then he said in a lower voice, “Kenny’s excited for
you, and that’s a good thing because it’s the first time I’ve seen
him excited in awhile.”
“Really?”
“He’s lonely,” Brendan said. “He misses you. He wants to
be around other artists.”
“Well, he is in Chicago.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No,” Layla reflected. “Put him on the phone. I’ll talk to
him… And, I’m going to see what I can do.”
“See what you can do? Well,” Brendan thought it was best
to leave Layla’s plans to Layla. “Alright then. I’ll talk to you
soon. Kenny, get over here. It’s out poet laureate calling for
you.”



“And you haven’t answered yet?” Sheridan said.
“Well, it’s a big deal,” Mathan shrugged while Meredith
began to look nervous.
“You are a very understanding man,” Chay said.
“Yes,” Meredith agreed. “And that’s why I love him so
much. And that’s why if I don’t say yes today, I will say yes.”
Mathan gave his same gentle smile and Meredith said, “It’s
a huge step, and its going to be very expensive. So I just want
to do it right.”
“Really, I was just putting it out there,” Mathan said. “You
want to put it out there.”
Sheridan turned from his place on the sofa and looked at
his brother.
“Don’t start,” Will said.
“We’re happy the way we are,” Layla told Sheridan.
“I guess we all have news then,” Chay noted.
“Uh, Layla has a book and I’m only half engaged,”
Meredith said. “I’m not entirely sure what your news is.”
Chay looked at Sheridan, and Sheridan looked at him.
“Somebody say something,” Layla commanded.
“We’re moving in together,” said Sheridan. “We just
decided it. I mean, Chay just said yes.”
Everyone else began to put their hands together, to applaud
lightly, but it was Meredith who said, baldly, “What does that
mean?”
“It means we’re moving in together,” Chay said.
“But… are you… Are you finally officially a couple? I
mean, are you…?”
Sheridan put his hand on Chay’s knee and leaning across
him he told Meredith, “We’re us.”
Meredith nodded, and Sheridan thought she looked
unconvinced. But Layla murmured, “Well, hell that makes me
and Will as solid as the Rock of Gibralter.”
“I thought we were as solid as the Rock of Gibralter,” Will
said.

“I think people put too much on names,” Mathan said.
“Love is what matters. Isn’t it?”
“And me and Chay love each other,” Sheridan said. “That’s
what our friendship’s all about.”
His hip buzzed, and Sheridan touched it.
“A call?” Layla looked at him.
Sheridan shrugged. “I’ll worry about it later.”
“Worry about it now,” Chay told him.
He was never able to forget their friend Robin, and there
were too many people in their lives he cared about to not want
to be on call if something important was happening.
Sheridan nodded and Meredith noted that there was
something very obedient and husband like about his
compliance. When Sheridan pulled out the phone and looked
at the number he said, “It’s not one that I know.”
“Companies are even getting into your cell phones these
days,” Layla complained.
Sheridan nodded, but he was still frowning. Well, there was
a message and he supposed he’d check it when he got back
home. For now, it was still his home, and he would drop Chay
off at Noah and James’.

 

[CharmedFan28]

I wonder what the message Sheridan got is about? I love cliffhangers! I kind of hope Kenny and Brendan move back to Rossford but who knows what will happen. I also wonder if Meredith and Mathan will get married? So much going on and so much to find out! Great writing and I eagerly await the next part!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I didn't even mean for it to be a cliffhanger. That was just the cut off point for the night, but I'm kind of pleased about it. There will certainly be more tomorrow night. More of everybody. Cheers! Who do you think it might be?

 

[CharmedFan28]

Maybe Logan? I don't know for sure.

 

[ChrisGibson]

We will soon see, my friend. At least I think we will.

 

[ChrisGibson]

SUNDAY CONTINUED

Dylan Mesda had to admit that he felt more at home on
Vesailles Street. Tom’s and Lee’s was the place to come for
total quiet. Tom’s was the place to come to leave the nexus of
family life, but to really be at the center of home life was to be
on Versailles Street. The family was so huge and there were so
many branches. Dena was family, Milo was family and so was
Rob. And Meredith and Mathan, who was Lee’s cousin. Layla
was family and Maia and Tara and Melanie. Adele. They all
swirled into that house. Of course they came here too, but this
was more like the vacation away from home.
Lee walked into his room without knocking and said, “The
phone’s for you.”
“All right?”
More than anything, Lee was like the uncle you didn’t
refuse. Todd was the uncle who always listened.
“Hello?”
“We need to talk.”
Shit.
“Dill? Dylan?”
Dylan took a breath and then he said, “Yeah.”
“It’s Ruth.”
“I know who it is. Why are you calling?”
“Cause we need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. Maybe you need to talk, but I don’t need to
talk. I need you to… do whatever you want to do.”
“Dylan, com’on. I messed up. I’m sorry. I mess up all the
time. But… aren’t we best friends?”
“We were best friends. That’s in the past. You made that
totally clear.”
“Shit, Dill.”
Then Ruthven said, “But don’t you miss me?”
“I’ve got friends.”
“Who? That loser Lance?”
“Lance isn’t a loser. And he’s not my only friend.”
“No… but… You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah,” Ruthven said, sounding a little testy, “you do.”
Dylan felt more worked up than he knew, than he wanted
to be.
“I’m not ready to talk to you,” he said.
There was a pause over the phone, and then Ruthven said,
“Alright. I guess.”
“I mean, isn’t that fair? You didn’t want to talk to me.”
“That’s not true. I did.”
“But you weren’t ready to. And now you are. Well… why
don’t you let me be ready too? Alright?”
“All right, I guess.”
“Now… good night,” Dylan said, trying to sound as mature
as possible.
“Good night,” said Ruthven.
Dylan sat on the bed, upset at the call, feeling a lot like
someone who really didn’t know where they were, and then he
picked up the phone again.
“Hello?” Fenn’s voice came to him.
“Dad?”
“Son.”
“I need to talk to you.”
And then he heard Fenn settling down from whatever he
was doing, and he knew that he was talking to his father, who
would understand everything, and who would listen as long as
he needed to. And his heart was easier again, and he began to
unravel the phone call, and his feelings and why he couldn’t
stop being hurt and angry.



Outside the bungalow with the yard lights shining on its yellow
walls and the bushes, Sheridan parked the car and said, “So
when are you going to tell them?”
“Not tonight,” Chay said. “Com’on.”
“I know,” Sheridan said. “I’m just so excited. This is the
next step. We’re moving in together.”
“The next step to what?”
“Now you sound like Meredith.”
“I don’t know,” Chay said. “It’s just… We never defined
us, and I’ve always felt like that was just a way to give us the
excuse of sleeping with other people.”
“That’s because when we finally realized there was an us we
were sleeping with other people. You remember that?”
“I remember that, yes. I never really formally broke up with
Casey. I mean, Casey and Logan—their job was to have sex
with other people. Logan was an escort. So… I remember,
when we first realized how we felt about each other we weren’t
exclusive. and we never put a name on what we had. But you
have to know, things ended with Casey a long time ago, and I
haven’t been fooling around with anyone. You and I have had
an open relationship, but—”
“Not really,” Sheridan concluded.
“Right.”
“Well, I want us to keep progressing toward… whatever.
I…” he stopped. “There’s a lot for what Fenn and Todd used
to say. About bucking convention.”
“But they are conventional.”
“They are now. More or less. But, listen,” Sheridan said. “I
spent so many years of my life trying to be straight. Making
myself have sex with girls. Having lots of sex with girls. Putting
myself in real danger. When I think about what a slut I was…
And I was like that because I didn’t want to be who I was. I
just don’t want us to be in such a rush to act like straight
people that we put limits on us. You know?”
Chay nodded.
“Chay?”
“Huh?”
“You wanna make it formal? You wanna be my boyfriend
and we’ll be like husband and wife and all that? Or you still
want us to just be best friends? Best friends who sleep
together, but… who are open to other people?”
When Chay didn’t say anything, Sheridan said. “There’ve
been times, for both of us, when we went off with other folks.
When we were open and honest about it. I’m glad. You didn’t
just get up and leave Casey, and I think that was right. But if
you think the time is right for you and me to just be you and
me, I think that’s right too.”
Chay sighed. “We’re so young.
“No, you’re right. Let’s keep it like it is. For now. I don’t
feel like I’m making us solid when I say I want rules and
restrictions. I feel like I’m being greedy.”
Sheridan leaned in and kissed him, and when Chay came
into the kiss and his arms were around Sheridan’s neck and
they were pressing their bodies together in the car, he
remembered he’d always felt this way about Sheridan. He
remembered that first time, on a Christmas night, when they’d
stripped and made love. He remembered this morning. No, he
didn’t want to own him.
Chay parted from him, watching Sheridan, face red, mouth
opened.
“That’s why we need to hurry up and move in together,”
Sheridan said.
He leaned across Chay and opened the car door.
“Go on. I won’t drive off until you’re safe in the house.”
It was silly, but of course Sheridan wouldn’t. And Chay
realized he’d be pretty miffed if Sheridan did.
As Chay was walking away he heard the window roll down
and Sheridan call his name.
“Yeah?” he said, returning to Sheridan who was leaning
toward the window.
“I don’t think about any other guy but you. You know that,
right?”
Chay hadn’t known that. So he just said, “I love you,” and
walked to the porch.
When Sheridan got home that night, the first thing he did was
take a long shower. When he was in sleep pants and a tee shirt
and he smelled fresh and was feeling in love, he remembered
to check his messages.
He called the last number and waited. He’d probably just
get an answering machine, and then they’d play phone tag for a
few days. But the phone picked up.
“Sheridan?” the voice said.
“Uh… yeah…?”
“Oh, my God, you don’t even know me,” the man’s voice
chided.
But when he paid attention, Sheridan did know him. The
recognition made him tremble and remember really falling in
love, becoming himself. It made him remember the violence of
killing for love, and the tenderness of being opened up, of one
hundred seventy pounds laying across his body and a thick
penis entering him.
“Logan?” he croaked, his penis stretching out and
hardening.
“Sher,” Logan said tenderly.
“What… How are you?”
“I’m back in town. I wanted to know how you were,”
Logan said. “I wanted to see you.”




“I love you too,” Fenn said, and yawned as he hung up the
phone. When Fenn yawned he looked at Todd who was
looking at him.
“What?”
“I was just thinking,” Todd said, turning off the lamp on
his night stand, and snuggling up to Fenn. “I have the best
husband in the world.”
“You know I feel weird when you call me your husband.”
“Would you rather be the wife?”
Fenn kissed Todd on his head and said, “I’d rather be
Fenn.”

“I hope,” Todd said, as Fenn turned off his light, “that
when Maia gets that age—and she almost is—I’m half as good
a father to her as you are to Dylan.”
“Well, you do have the benefit of being Maia’s actual
father.”
“You think that makes a difference?” Todd said turning on
his side, and turning Fenn with him. “If you do you’re dumber
than I thought.”
“No,” Fenn said. “No, I don’t think it makes a difference
and I know it doesn’t to Dylan. The funny thing is, I always
thought it would make a difference to me. I always thought I
would be a terrible parent and I feel as if that boy came from
me. I’m almost sure he did. It’s so strange. I don’t think any
mother could love him more. That’s what I feel like. Like his
mother. I think this is what he thinks I am. And good thing,
given what his real mother is like. Here again, gone again. I’m
glad I took care of her as best I could.”
“I’m totally in love with you when you talk like this,” Todd
said. And, business like, he inquired: “You wanna fuck?”
“I’m tired,” Fenn told him. “But I feel like I could
overcome it for a little something.”
There was a thump downstairs.
“What the hell is that?” Fenn’s eyes flew open.
Todd sat up.
The thump came again.
“I don’t believe this,” Todd moaned pushing back the
covers and going to the door for his housecoat.
“It’s eleven o’clock, I’m going with you,” Fenn insisted.
Together they went down the steps, Fenn behind Todd in
the threadbare black housecoat Todd had bought him twelve
years ago. The living room lamp was still on, and Fenn
muttered, “I wish Bren and Kenny still lived here.”
Todd put his eye to the keyhole and Fenn tried not to shout
out a warning. Years ago a former gang member on the West
End had gotten a knock on the door in the middle of the night.
When he put his eye to the keyhole, someone had shot him in
the brain. There was no reason for any of this to happen now
or here, but it still went through Fenn’s head.
“Who is it?” Fenn demanded.
However, when Todd turned to him with a mystified grin,
the actual visitor was as much of a surprise as a bullet, and by
the time he unlocked the door and opened it, Todd’s answer
was unnecessary.
“Fenn, he’s back. It’s Bryant Babcock!”

 

[CharmedFan28]

So I was right Logan is back in the story! I don't know what is going to happen between him, Sheridan and Chay but it will be interesting whatever it is! Also Bryant is back! I look forward to reading what he has been up to. Poor Dylan, he seems to be having a rough time at the moment. I hope he can pull through. Excellent writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

There's so much that hasn't been revealed yet, but times are about to get very interesting for everyone.

 

[ChrisGibson]

SUNDAY

CONCLUDED



“So you were the first people I came to see,” Bryant spread his
hands out from where he sat on the sofa in the living room.
“At eleven o’clock at night,” Fenn noted as he moved
about the room, lighting jar candles.
“I could leave.”
“Well, you’re here now,” Fenn yawned.
“I think what Fenn meant,” Todd said as his partner lit the
candles around the large icon of Mary, “is that we were
wondering if you were all right.”
“No,” Fenn objected, blowing out the stick, “that’s not
what I meant.”
“I just got in,” Bryant said. “And the first thing I thought
about was coming to see you guys.”
Fenn sat at the edge of the sofa.
“We didn’t even know you were coming. I mean coming to
Rossford.”
“Bryant talked about that already,” Todd reminded him.
“He talked about it, yes,” Fenn said. “But he didn’t say
anything about … Did you get the job?”
“I am the head of the music department at Loretto
College.”
“Good for you, man,” Todd said.
“Why are you back?” Fenn asked.
“Fenn!”
“Fenn’s just being practical,” Bryant said.
“Damn right. There are a ton of places he could go. He
comes back here? To the scene of the crime.”
“Which crime?”
“I was thinking of the more recent one committed by Chad
North. And Chad North is gone by the way,” Fenn told him.
“I know,” Bryant said.
“And so’s your brother.”
“Yes.”
Bryant’s face had grown thinner, and there was grey at his
temples. Fenn didn’t say, “And your uncle’s dead,” but Frank
Slaughter had passed a year ago, the last time they’d seen
Bryant.
“But I don’t really have anywhere else to go,” Bryant told
them. “This town is the most family I have. And Shelley’s
having her first kid.”
“Right,” Todd remembered.
“Imagine that. Shelley Anderson. I mean, not Shelley
Anderson yet. She and Matty have decided to be
untraditional—”
“Also known as fucking around,” Fenn said.
“But that means that my new nephew is Paul and Claire’s
nephew—”
“You’re sure it’s a boy?” Todd said.
Fenn looked at him as if he were missing the point, and
Bryant said, “Yup. A boy. And that boy is the cousin of
Claire’s kids and Claire’s kids are Fenn’s cousins and…Well, it
really does mean you all are the closest family I have.”
Fenn said nothing about the Babcocks and Slaughters back
home in Pennsylvania. Bryant never liked going back there,
and the happiest he had been was when Sean and Shelley lived
here in Rossford, and Frank was pastor at Saint Agatha’s. Chad
had been living with him for seven years and everything
seemed so stable then.
“Well, of course you’re family,” Todd said. “Now, I just
have to find a way you’re related to me.”
“Through me, dummy,” Fenn said. He yawned and
knuckled his eyes. “Whoever thought you’d be related to
Bryant Babcock? And through me at that?
“I’m going to bed. No ass for you tonight, Mr. Meradan.
Bryant, where are you staying?”
“I got a hotel room out near the airport.”
“You mean where all the strippers and junkies are? That’s a
dicey idea.”
“It’s a cheap room and I can’t move into the house—”
“You got a house?” Todd said.
Bryant nodded. “But I can’t move in for a few days.”
“Well, you might as well stay here,” Fenn said.
With that Fenn trudged up the steps and Todd told Bryant,
“That’s as close to a gracious invitation as you’re going to get.”




Outside, Brendan heard one of the late night El trains rattle by.
The other day there had been a power out, and one had been
stuck in the sky. Brendan said a Hail Mary for the people in
there and when that didn’t work a few Our Fathers, and then
he crossed himself when it started up again. Poor people. He’d
heard of folks getting stuck in the subway, and last year one of
the tunnels had caught fire. The CTA was a pretty safe way to
travel, but there could be flukes every now and then, and as an
El rider and a believer, Brendan Miller felt it was his duty to
help out, in a heavenly way, anyone he could who was in a
position he hoped he would never be in himself.
From where he sat under the desk light, Brendan could hear
the shower water running, and he put down the files for the
case that would take the majority of this coming week and
looked across the darkness of the room to where light from
the other side limned the bathroom door. He gazed on it,
thinking of the one on the other side and how much he loved
him, how Kenny had followed him this far. He thought of this
week where he would spend more time with this case than with
his lover.

The water had stopped running and Brendan’s eyes
returned to his work.

He remembered the first time he and Layla had gone to see
her sister, when Caroline was reading his cards and she said, “I
see a handsome man beside you, and he has always loved you.
He is part of you.” He remembered the day they’d come to this
apartment, the two of them, struggling to bring the refrigerator
up the steps, beads of sweat forming on Kenny’s brow, the
smell of his sweat through his tee shirt. For some reason the
smell of Kenny reminded him of Kenny’s love.
The door opened and Kenny came out, his body
highlighted by the light of bathroom. He was only in the white
briefs that shaped the bulge of his sex and the round firmness
of his ass; Brendan sat up and gestured to him.
“Come here,” he said tenderly.
And tenderly Kenny came. He stood before Brendan, and
Brendan swiveled to meet Kenneth McGrath. He pulled at the
band of his underwear.
“Goddamn,” he murmured, tenderly. “Goddamn.”
Brendan leaned forward and took him in his mouth. His
tongue touched the tip of his penis and circled the head. It
went down and up the shaft and all around. It tapped at his
balls before Brendan’s mouth formed a vacuum. If he could
have he would have taken all of Kenny in, and his mouth
moved under the instruction of Kenny’s moans his hands went
to Kenny’s back, down to the underwear band, pulling it down,
holding the firm softness of Kenny’s ass, kneading as his
mouth lapped.
Brendan held Kenny by his hips, looked up and said,
“Com’on.”
The pulsing light of the rattling train was the only way Brendan
could see as he knelt on the side of the bed, the bases of his
hand touching the pillows while he fucked his lover who was
on hands and knees. Brendan wanted to be as deep inside of
him as he’d wanted Kenny to be inside of him, and Kenny was
so tight. He was such a deep country to enter. If only he could
go deeper and deeper, if he only he could never stop.
In the frantic darkness, his hands guided Kenny to turn
around, to kneel. He plunged his face into the soft cheeks, his
tongue entered Kenneth, lapping him, touching new nerves.
Here was a new way to enter the old lover. To gasps and
shouts he thrust his tongue deep in Kenny’s ass. Kenny’s
hands grasped the bedposts, his head arched up and he cried
out. When Brendan had exhausted himself with his tongue, he
used his finger, and then another, and gently he turned him
over, and with the help of oil he entered at last Brendan used
his penis, wet and dripping with desire now. He pushed deeper
and deeper, going into tighter and tighter country. He fucked
him.

Bren came silently, his body seizing over and over again. It
had been a while since they’d done this. It seemed like it
wouldn’t end. Kenny moved away from him but held him
while it was coming to an end. Then Kenny leaned beside
him, and Brendan helped him to his orgasm. His hands went
down Kenny’s stomach, went between his legs, tenderly, gently
stroked him in the way of a lover for years who knew that flesh
so well, gently, with kisses, with tenderness he brought Kenny
to the point of shouting and watched his body, watched the arc
of his semen spurt in the night, watched it like it was his own,
sighed for the pleasure of it and covered the last of Kenny’s
moans with a kiss on the mouth.
“You’ve still got work to do,” Kenny said in the darkness.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I knew you weren’t.”
“How’d you know?”
“I know you, Brendan Miller. I’ve known you for years.”
Brendan blinked at the ceiling. His left arm was twined with
Kenny’s right, the side of Kenny’s body was pressed to his.
He’d always been the thin one, and Kenny had always had that
athlete’s body, the sturdy flesh on beautiful thighs and
rounded, dimpled buttocks, even his curly hair, well rounded,
athletic hair, rugby playing hair.
“Well, then do you know what I’m about to say, now?”
“Do I want to hear this?”
“You’re going back to Rossford,” Brendan turned to him.
“What?”
“We haven’t had sex in two weeks. I thought about it. I’ve
been working on this case, and I have to go right back to it. I
thought, when you were in that shower and I was looking at
my case, I’m going to be on it longer than I’m going to be with
you. It’s just ridiculous. You’re going back home. You can
come to me, or I can come to you on the weekends. We can
do that. This isn’t fair.”
“What does fair have to do with anything?” Kenny said.
“The only time we had a fair relationship was when we weren’t
with each other. No…”
“Kenny.”
Kenny lay back in bed pulling the covers over him.
“No,” Kenny said.
“There have been times,” he told Brendan, “when I let you
have the illusion of running things And you may be a great
attorney and everything. But this time I put my foot down. We
stay together. Some people are okay single, but we’re no good
apart. We’ll work out something, but whatever we work out
involves us being together.”
And then Kenny pulled the covers over his head.
“And now I’m going to bed.”
When Brendan sat upright, his fingers linked, he heard
Kenny say, “And you can go back to work.”
Brendan raised an eyebrow, looked at the form of Kenny
covered in a blanket, and then climbed out of bed, reaching for
his underwear and trousers.

And that was that.

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was an excellent portion! It is good to see Bryant back and seemingly in a good place with himself. I don't know if this living in separate places most of the time is going to work for Brendan and Kenny is going to work but I guess ill just have to wait and see. I hope they stay together. Great writing and I look forward to more soon!

 

[ChrisGibson]

Bryant is back! Five years have passed and he's absorbed a lot of shit. New adventures are on the way for him and we'll see how he gets through them or grows. He's one of my favorite characters, such a history! Brendan and Kenny do seem to be about to go through something and I am of a mind that living in two different places isn't a great idea, but then so is Kenny. Lots of stuff is about to happen, and we're only in chapter two. What's your favorite plotline? If you have one.

 

[CharmedFan28]

I have always had a soft spot for Brendan so I would say that I like all the plotline's but the story of him and Kenny is my favourite. Of the younger characters I like Sheridan's plotline.

 

[ChrisGibson]

Matt, I read your message, but just now. You are in luck tonight, for we're serving up a big ass weekend portion, and its all Sheridan. Consume in moderation, The Old's Friday portion will be posted a later too.

THREE

FRIDAYS



The TGI Fridays on the Strip was open all night, and the
whole time Sheridan drove up Birmingham to the east where
Rossford and Willmington met at the Strip, he wondered if he
was really doing this, or if Logan would really be there. He
wondered how wise it was to go and see him. But what could
happen? And if Logan was going to be here from now on, then
he’d better meet him as soon as possible and nip it in the bud.
This was the newest part of Rossford. When Sheridan was a
baby there hadn’t been anything out here but a sprawl of old
houses owned by Potawatomi families, and farm space from
here to Willmington. But both cities had spread out over the
years and met together in the stretch of Old Navys, shopping
malls, Borders and Barnes and Nobles that touched the
highway heading for Gary and Chicago. A little off of
Birmingham, he knew, was Casey’s house, where his first job
had been, where he had met Logan, and now here he was,
sitting at the red light, crossing Main, turning into the TGI
Friday’s lot. He monitored his footsteps as he went across the
parking lot. Was he running? Was he skipping? He entered and
waited for the waitress, and then realized Logan would already
have a table. He scanned the booths and looked over the
partitions for him and started, heart in throat, knees nearly

turning into jelly at the sight of him, at his backward baseball
cap, at his shoulders under the jacket. Logan was tapping his
foot, his thigh moving frantically like it always did. Logan
didn’t see him. Sheridan could have gone back. He should have
gone back.
How strange, when he was younger he hadn’t felt this way.
He headed over before the approaching waitress could ask if
he needed a table. As he did when nervous, Sheridan gauged
his balance. Was he walking steadily, walking strange? He set
his shoulders straight. He wanted to look good to Logan. He
was about to call to him, to say the right cool word, and then
Logan saw him. His face broke out into a smile.
He called out, “Sheridan!” and then Sheridan was at the
table again, in the presence of Logan Banford.
“In the flesh!” Logan marveled. “I’m so glad you came. I
was afraid you wouldn’t.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I think maybe I was wondering if you were real
or not. You know? The mind plays tricks when you haven’t
been with someone in a while. It’s hard to believe it was real.”
“Yeah,” Sheridan said. And then, “Yes.” Because he did
know.
“Well, what should we order?”
“I don’t know. Actually, I’m not hungry,” Sheridan said. “I
ate already.”
“I’m starved,” Logan said.
He ordered the appetizers and said, “You’re going to split
them with me, right?”
“Well, yeah,” Sheridan said.
“You’ve got to. I can’t eat all of this by myself.”
Logan ordered fish tacos for appetizers, where Sheridan
thought they should be a whole meal, and then, but for the one
Sheridan took, Logan ate them all. He downed a large Coke
before the meal, and then started in on a big burger and
Sheridan thought, wistfully, how nice it must be to exercise so
much he could eat like this.
“My dad eats like this too,” Logan said.
“And what does he look like?”
“He looks like a whale,” Logan said, swallowing a fry.
“Goddamn that fat old fuck.”

“I never met him.”
“Well, there’s a reason for that. Most people who date porn
stars don’t meet their families.”
Then Logan said, “Is that why we didn’t last?”
“Because I didn’t meet your family?”
“No,” Logan said, scratching that idea out in the air with
one of his fries. He looked at the fry, considered it, and
jammed it in his mouth. “I mean because I was in porn.”
“I knew all that.”
“And escorting.”
“Well, you know I knew that.”
“I know you knew it,” Logan said. “But on some level, did
it matter? Was it what ended us?”
“I just thought we drifted apart. I just thought we drifted
into being friends.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” Logan said. Then,
“Goddamn, I wanna milkshake.”
Sheridan stared at him.
“Look, I had to do this long stint. I mean real modeling,
nothing pornographic.” Logan considered that. “That’s a lie. It
was semi pornographic. Anyway, I’ve been on protein drinks
and rabbit food, and I’m going back to that shit tomorrow. But
every once in a while I need this. Just some real trashy
fattening food.”
“Logan!”
Logan blinked at him.
“You’re my friend, and I’m glad to see you and… hell, you
look better than ever. You really do. I’m jealous of whoever
you’re with now. But…. Why’d you call me at almost
midnight? Hell, it is midnight.”
“Because I’m not with anyone,” Logan said.
Sheridan waited for him to continue.
“And all I think about is the last time I really was, and how
much I miss you and how good we were together. And how
much we shared. We really were good. And how good you
were and how… You’re the most real guy I’ve ever known.
And how much you loved me—you did love me, right?”
“Of course!”
“Right,” Logan went on. “And no one ever loved me like
that, and I don’t think anyone can. And I loved you. I mean I

do love you. I mean it’s like a part of me has been wanting to
give myself away and with you I did. And without you there
isn’t anyone else to do that for. I mean there’s fucking and
tricking and doing films, but you know it’s not the same.”
Sheridan put up a hand to stop Logan.
“What?”
“Logan, my eyes hurt,” he said. “And I’m yawning. It’s past
one, and I’ve got class at ten. This is all very sweet. I mean, it
makes me feel good. But I don’t know what the fuck you’re
trying to say.”
“Sheridan!” Logan sounded a bit surprised, or maybe a bit
hurt. “I’m trying to say I want you back.”
“Sheridan! Sheridan!” Logan hollered as he chased him to his
car.
“You need to go back and pay for that food,” Sheridan
shouted, waving his hand as if to defend himself.
“Sheridan, listen!”
“You know what,” Sheridan reached into his pocket. “I’ll
pay for it. Here!”
His hands trembled a little as he took out his credit card.
“Just take this,” he waved it at Logan. “Take it and pay for
everything. But,” he was doing a strange bit of gymnastics,
running from Logan, sticking the card in his hand, and then
running back. “I have to go.”
“Sheridan!”
There was hardness in Logan’s voice and he caught
Sheridan’s wrist.
“Let me go,” Sheridan said, miserably.
“I just need you to listen to me.”
“I have listened to you, Logan. And you’re saying
something I don’t want to hear. Just let me go. Please.”
“Can’t we talk?”
“We are talking. And those people are going to come out
here and wonder why the meal isn’t paid for.”
“I’m going to go pay for it,” Logan said, letting him go.
“But you have to promise to stay here. And then we’ll talk.”
Sheridan stood there.
“And then we’ll talk,” Logan repeated. “Now take back
your card,” he said, and headed back into the restaurant.


When he was gone, in the space where he stood alone near his
car, Sheridan wondered if he’d ever planned to run away. It
was chilly now and the air smelled like rain. He looked up.
Above the Strip the sky was purple. It was better to run away.
If he had any sense he’d run away. Ahead of him was Main
Street. That belonged to Rossford. On west side of this
shopping center, when you drove out, was Park, and there
were farm fields, and that was Wallington. Over the TGI
Friday’s was the parking lot to Applebees or something like
that, and behind him was a taco place. Over from it Bixby
bisected Main and Park and that’s where two of the hotels
were.
Logan came out now and he said, “I was afraid you might
run off. I thought I might have to chase you down.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Only a little,” Sheridan noted that Logan had popped in a
breath mint.
“Well,” Sheridan said, “now we’re talking.”
“Not here,” Logan said. “Not in a parking lot.”
“In another restaurant?”
“Well that would be stupid,” Logan told him. “Otherwise
we could have just stayed here. I’m staying over there,”
Logan pointed to the hotel on Bixby, the one Sheridan had
just been examining. It was a modern three story building with
friendly lights.
“Come on,” Logan told him.
Sheridan nodded.
“I’ll drive,” Logan said.
To keep some measure of control, Sheridan told him, “You
can drive yourself. I’ll follow.”
“How is Chay?”
“He’s fine.”
“I always thought the two of you would have something
going by now,” Logan said.
“We do.”
“Then you’re a couple?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what are you?”

“We’re friends,” Sheridan said. “But we’re close.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
Sheridan laughed what he meant to be a derisive laugh.
“What?” said Logan.
“You do porn. You have sex with people on camera for a
living, and you tell me you don’t know what I mean.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Nothing, only… you make it sound like you’re so
conventional, like you need this straight up answer and… I
don’t know.”
“A straight up answer is good, Sheridan,” Logan said,
standing up, “when I’m trying to figure out if I have a chance
with you.”
He added, “I don’t think I ever did wrong by you. Did I?”
“No,” Sheridan said. Then he added, “And it’s not about
that.”
“Then what’s it about?”
Sheridan didn’t speak for a while, and when he did, he
spoke to the floor.
“That guy,” he said. “That guy that Lee hid.”
Sheridan’s face became very serious. He looked a little
afraid. Here was something they had together.
“I killed him,” Sheridan said.
“You didn’t mean to,” Logan whispered, touching his wrist,
gently. “And you did it for me.”
Sheridan snapped out of it.
“That’s my point!
“I did it for you. I did all sorts of things for you. With you
there is no… control. And there isn’t any promise, either.
There’s no promise of sanity. I don’t know what’s going to
happen.”
“It’s about control?”
“It’s about… sanity. It’s about… There’s no future with us.
How can there be a future with us?”
“You don’t even want a future. If you did, you and Chay
would be definite by now. Not this middle of the line crap.
You were free when I left, and you’re still free. But you’re not
really free at all. You’re just like me. You’re drifting.”
“I am not—” Sheridan insisted, “just like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan asked him, calmly.
“Do you mean cause you don’t fuck people for money? Cause
you’ve never been a prostitute?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It is. A little. I think it is. Till you’ve actually been what I
am, even when you sort of worship it, you’re glad you never
were it.”
“This isn’t even about you,” Sheridan tried to make his
voice cold.
“No, it’s about you becoming me.”
“Shut up!” Sheridan said, suddenly irked. “Shut the fuck up.
With all of this self help guru bullshit. With all of this shit you
heard in California. All of this ‘you’re me and I’m you’ and—”
“Kiss me, Sher.”
Sheridan looked at him, his face fierce more with shock
than anything else.
“Kiss me,” Logan repeated.
And when Sheridan didn’t, Logan leaned over, bent down
and took Sheridan’s face in his hands. He kissed him, his lips
tugging at Sheridan’s, his tongue pressing into Sheridan’s
mouth, Sheridan’s mouth opening, Logan’s lips tugging on his
bottom one.
“Kiss me,” he repeated. “It’s just kissing,” Logan told him,
gently, and brought him to the bed.
Beneath him, Logan’s hands reached up and pressed against
the back of his head, and hooking into his hair, they kissed.
Sheridan was pulled down by the greed of Logan’s desire,
heated by the warmth of Logan’s body beneath him. Logan
reached under Sheridan’s shirt, his large hands going all over
his chest, kneading his nipples. Logan’s mouth met his again
and again and then he began to pull up his shirt now, and
Sheridan got rid of it. He helped Logan out of his as well and
began kissing his throat and his chest, taking his nipples in his
mouth. He was over Logan like a tent and he felt Logan’s
hands in his jeans, Logan’s hand undoing his belt. He felt
Logan’s hands going into his pants, tugging down his
underwear, and then the tenderness of Logan’s hands on his
ass.

Now Logan was leaning forward, holding his penis
tenderly, his mouth on it, lapping it, licking it, circling it
carefully, pulling on it, making it grow to that amazing length,
to shine and swell like only a lover could. His hands went
down to Logan’s hair and he closed his eyes, rearing his head
back while Logan’s mouth nursed him. But no sooner was he
lost in this then Logan’s hands were pulling his face down,
kissing him, and he was kissing him back and then Logan
tugged off his jeans and his underwear and opened Sheridan’s
legs to suck him, licking him, pulling, tugging, his tongue like a
cat lapping down shaft and around balls then up again.
Sheridan moaned, wailed and trembled, no longer trying to be
in control, or thinking about what would come next.
Logan stood up, and like a presentation, he dropped his
jeans and his underwear and there he was, his penis thick and
up like a flagpole, like a soldier. It bobbed high as he leaned in,
and when he did, Sheridan leaned up, caught him, and pulled
his nakedness to him. He hugged Logan and kissed him
fiercely. Logan situated himself astride him till Sheridan could
feel with his penis the roundness of Logan’s ass and the cleft
of it, until he was rubbing up against it.
“I don’t have a condom,” Sheridan said.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Sheridan looked at him and Logan laughed. “No, I don’t go
bare for other folks. That’s why I’m saying don’t worry about
it.”
So Sheridan didn’t worry about it. Logan’s hands took the
thickness of Sheridan and pulled it into him. He let Logan
lower himself onto him, and he was swallowed into that
amazing tightness and that great heat. As Logan lowered
himself both of their eyes rounded, both their breaths caught
and their bodies stilled. As he was pulled into Logan, Logan’s
mouth lowered on his lips, pulling in his breath as well.
And then they began rocking. Logan, knees pressed to the
bed, pinning Sheridan in, his hands on his chest, began taking
Sheridan in, and Sheridan, jerked and tugged inside of Logan,
raised his hands to hold Logan’s hips, his chest, his face.
Slowly, then more quickly, both of their eyes opening, only to
close, faces lifted to the ceiling, they began to move. Sheridan
began to cry out, to wail with the force of Logan fucking him.
Part of him wondered if he could be heard on the other side of

the door and Logan forced the sound from him, as Logan, lips
parted, bounced up and down and their bodies clapped
together. The sound was pulled from Sheridan, a shaking wail,
and he didn’t care. He just wanted this. On the edge of poetry
or reason or justification was fucking, and this, that the two of
them were doing, was all that mattered.
Sheridan didn’t know where he was when he woke up. He was
so comfortable, and Logan’s body pressed to his, his arms
around him, the smell of him was so good. Quickly, memory
filtered back to him, and as it returned he tried to block it out.
He tried to block out the pressure in his bladder.
He looked at the clock. It was dark, but it was six in the
morning. Of course it was. He hadn’t come to Logan until
nearly one. He disentangled himself from Logan and went to
the bathroom. When he came out, Logan was sitting up.
“I have to get dressed,” Sheridan said. “I have to go.”
“No you don’t,” Logan told him. “Stay with me.”
“I’ve got classes at nine.”
“Forget class.”
Sheridan wanted to say something sharp, something like,
how could Logan possibly appreciate class and college? But
instead he just said, “I’m going to class. I’m going to be there
at nine.”
“Alright,” Logan said, shrugging. “But right now it’s barely
six. There’s more time for us. You’re only a half hour away
from Loretto. It’s Loretto, right?”
“Right,” Sheridan said.
“Stay with me?” Logan said. “A little longer? Let’s eat
something, stretch a bit and then make love a little longer. It’s
been so long.”
It couldn’t have been that long for Logan, and Sheridan
pushed out of his head the fact that he’d just had sex with
Chay yesterday. But he understood what Logan meant, so he
said, “Alright.”
“Good,” Logan told him. “I’ll throw some clothes on.”
Logan came out of bed, but Sheridan didn’t want him to
put clothes on now. Despite his reserve, it was just like last
night. Their bodies snapped together like magnets. They were

linking and kissing and Logan felt so good, and Sheridan felt so
sexy, so loved, so special when Logan was attending to him
this way. With Chay he was, for lack of a better word, the man.
But with Logan he always felt like he was the one who would
be picked up and carried over the threshold, the treasured
girlfriend, and it made him feel so good. With Logan he
thought, this is what it really feels like to be gay. This is what
men wish they could feel like, this being kissed and cherished
by another man, this being a grown man’s sweetheart.
“Then you’ll stay a little longer?” Logan said. He sat on the
edge of the bed, his arms around Sheridan’s waist, and he had
been sucking on him, kissing on his stomach, sucking him
again.
Sheridan’s voice was light. He felt like he would fly away.
“Yes,” he said.
“Good,” Logan pressed his face into Sheridan’s stomach.
He said with an earnest intensity, “I want to fuck you so bad.”
Sheridan’s trembled from his bowels to his toes.
“Yes,” he said.
Logan released him, lightly.
“I’ll go down and get some condoms,” Logan said. “I
always want to use a condom with you. Don’t want you to ever
have to worry. I’ll be right back.”
Sheridan lay on the bed, pulling the sheet over himself,
watching Logan dress. Logan winked at him and then shut the
door behind him.
For a moment he was so sad. He and Chay never used
condoms because they didn’t have to. He wanted, once, for
Logan to fuck him with nothing between them. He wanted
nothing between them. And what was this? He wanted to
know, for once, what something was.
But then practicality made him put that idea away, and he
went to the hotel room looking for something, a hose, or a hot
water bottle, to do a quick clean up job. Logan wasn’t going to
short change him, all of the things anyone had ever seen Logan
do in a video, he was going to do to him when he got back,
and that required a certain level of… Sheridan sighed thinking
of the word… maintenance.
The door opened softly as Sheridan finished cleaning the
bathroom after cleaning himself, and he came out. When he
saw Logan and Logan saw him, they went straight toward each
other.

“Shower with me,” Logan said. “Let’s wash each other.”
The first time they’d done that had been when Sheridan
saved him after that man had attempted to rape and kill Logan,
so long ago. That time it had been sweet in its tenderness.
Now it was sweet in its fierceness and there was as much
tasting and kissing and biting as there was scrubbing and then,
still kissing and only half dry, Logan led him back to the bed
and they didn’t stop until eight o’clock, until it was time for
Sheridan to go to class. All of those times with girls, Sheridan
had been trying to make himself something, and in those few
times with guys he didn’t really know, there had been some
holding back. But with Chay, and with Logan right now, there
was this complete openness where everything was possible and
every desire was entertained and every wish was granted. When
it was over that last time, they lay exhausted, splayed on their
sides, heaving, fingers linking, bodies perspiring. But it wasn’t
for the first time. They’d taken several rests.

“And now you need to get dressed,” Logan prompted.
When he was dressed, Sheridan stood at the door with
Logan, whose hands were jammed into his pocket.
“We didn’t take care of anything,” Sheridan said.
“I think we took care of a lot.”
“Logan.”
Logan grinned and kissed him.
“We were supposed to talk. We were supposed to rationally
hammer out something.”
“Did you really think that was going to happen when you
came back here?”
“Did you bring me back here just to fuck?”
“Yes,” Logan said, straight faced. “Because I had to travel
three thousand miles and call you up just to get laid.”
Sheridan just looked at him.
“Look, Sheridan. I’m not a long term planning person. I
asked you to come back so you’d stay with me cause I didn’t
want you to leave. I was so glad to see you.”
“But we haven’t taken care of anything—”
“This is bullshit, Sheridan.”
“What?”

“It is. All of this… we need to talk and shit. Like we were
going to sit around and discuss and make plans. I said I wanted
you back. I want us to be a couple. Us makes you and me. You
were here and me was here, and we were fucking all night. And
you love me and I love you. What else is there?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“There’s… there’s a lot more.”
“Like what?”
“Like… a lot. Like commitment and… I dunno. A lot.”
Logan, who usually acknowledged that Sheridan was the
smarter one, just looked at Sheridan like he was pitifully stupid,
and shook his head.
“What?”
“I tell you what,” Logan said, opening the door, and
pushing Sheridan gently out, “why don’t you tell me all of the
other important stuff when you come back tonight?”
“What? I’m not coming back. I have things to do. I—”
“I’ll see you tonight,” Logan told him, and turning his back,
he closed the door and left Sheridan standing there looking at a
peephole.

 

[CharmedFan28]

That was an interesting Sheridan centric portion. I don't know what to make of Logan, he seems a bit all over the place compared to the last time he was in the story. I hope he doesn't screw things up between Sheridan and Chay but they seem to have a pretty open relationship so he probably wont. Who knows. Great writing and I look forward to more in a few days!

 

[ChrisGibson]

I have posted two days of material in one night, intentionally, seeing as I don't post on Friday, and there is a large posting for the Old, so it is easy to miss things if you read everything right away. But, since you have two days for another post, feel free to go back and reread. Signs are left everywhere. Because I myself have not had a chance to reread, I am curious and not at all sarcastic when I ask what seems scattered about Logan?