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    Rosenkrantz
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Curative - 6. Chapter 6

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 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.”

“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 you 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 me by 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 eyes burned and the hand on my neck tightened reflexively. “Fuck Ry, if I had you upstairs…”

I grinned and pressed another kiss to his lips.

"Then we better get you up there, shouldn't we?"

Copyright © 2013 Rosenkrantz; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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On 04/11/2013 08:12 AM, layla said:
The interactions between these two are wonderful, I have really been enjoying this story and seeing the misunderstandings between the two as well as their resolutions to it. I can see them inching towards a relationship, each with their own fears and concerns to work through. It will be fun seeing how it all plays out.
Thanks! It's just as fun for me, since they kind of take over my brain as I write and just use my fingers to badger with each other(:
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