Page 11 of Capturing Perfection

Clay looked deep into Logan’s blue eyes. The few simple words spoken aloud between them meant more than he could have imagined, especially now that he knew how hard it was for Logan. He tried to assess if Logan wanted to say something further or was going to leave the topic of his therapy alone.

Logan walked around the edge of the island and stood behind Clay. “Clay?” He placed a hand on Clay’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You can ask.”

Clay fiddled with the foil edging over the clear plastic lid of the carryout containers. Just what questions was he supposed to ask? Was Logan permitting him to question his therapy session, or was it time to ask harder questions about their friendship? It had to be the therapy thing, right? If Clay were talking with a boyfriend, he’d have felt justified. The emotional wellbeing of a partner would have a direct effect on their relationship, but he and Logan weren’t a couple. They could never share in that kind of relationship.

Aside from the fact that Logan was straight, he’d been so traumatized by his father that accepting any kind of caring from another man was difficult. Clay counted his blessings that he and Logan had become as close as they had when they were teenagers. He knew the statistics. He saw the result of child abuse daily. Had Logan formed any close friendships while in the service? Was there a best friend somewhere desperate to know if Logan was okay, just as Clay had for all those years? Or had Logan existed as an isolated entity in a great war machine? Several of Clay's co-workers were former military, and they often talked about the brotherhood of their respective branches. Maybe Logan had replaced Clay? Maybe Clay was being selfish by keeping Logan here? Clay wasn't strong enough to ask those questions yet.

Logan was a stronger man than Clay could ever hope to become. He knew his feelings for Logan would never change, but he’d made a vow years ago to never cross that line. He'd told himself that it was his job was to help Logan heal. Help him transition to this new stage of his life. Support him as he worked to overcome the demons that plagued his dreams. Clay didn't think he had it in him to ask the harder questions tonight. He supposed he could stick with the 'how was your day?' topic, even if that was a bit of a minefield.

But Logan said it was all right…

Clay turned, his body almost brushing against Logan’s. The man stood so close. His hands longed to wrap themselves around Logan’s waist. Instead, he shoved them in the pockets of his slacks and asked, “How did it go?”

“It was hard. Harder than I expected, but I think I chose the right doctor. I think he can help. Eventually.”

“Good. If you want to tell me anything, I’ll listen, but I won’t pry. I won’t push you.”

Logan smiled. “I know.”

Clay sucked in a breath as Logan reached out for the counter, temporarily caging him between his arms. Seconds passed, and Clay would have sworn Logan’s body leaned closer toward him. He closed his eyes briefly to savor the illicit closeness, but they flew open when the heat from Logan’s body evaporated. He watched as Logan carried his plate and a beer, which had been sitting on the counter behind him, into the living room. Clay heard the TV click on and the opening theme song for their favorite show, sing out from the speakers of the flat screen. He tried to calm his racing heart with a deep breath, and when that didn’t work, he slugged back several large gulps of beer. He’d intended for this night to be one of leisure, but he was anything but relaxed.

Late that night, Clay lay in bed, tension rolling through him. Logan had seemed to appreciate the effort Clay had made that evening, but he couldn’t stop thinking about that moment in the kitchen when their bodies had brushed. He couldn’t explain why that moment differed from thousands they’d shared over their lifetime. He and Logan had always horsed around as kids. Mock wrestling fights had frequently smashed their bodies together. Even after he’d discovered his attraction to Logan, he’d never felt the sexual tension they’d shared only hours ago. Why was tonight different?

Clay wrapped his hand around his cock. Languidly, he stroked it as it hardened. He knew a good orgasm would eradicate the tension in his body and tried to picture his last boyfriend. Light brown hair and green eyes had topped a lean swimmer’s body.

Clay’s cock was fully hard now. Reaching into his bedside drawer, he removed the bottle of lube. A little slick would help the cause. After squeezing out some of the cool liquid, he took himself in hand once again.

Keeping the image of J.D. in his mind, he stroked up and down. As he drifted further into the fantasy, instead of imagining his tongue licking down the flat planes of J.D.’s stomach, it traced the ridges of a well-muscled abdomen. Instead of a pair of long, thin arms wrapped around his neck, a pair of powerful hands clutched at his back. His hand sped up, and he groaned as his thumb swiped over the leaking head of his cock.

Clay lifted his hips into his fist as he imagined thrusting into the tightest, most welcoming ass he could ever imagine. His eyes remained tightly closed as he chased the explosion just beyond the bend. In his imagination, he ran his hands up and down the muscular body beneath him. Thick arms and legs wrapped around him as they twisted on the sheets.

His opponent flipped him with a move too swift to counter, and as his eyes traveled up the torso of the man now riding him, he gasped. He’d only seen the same small birthmark above the left pec on one man. His eyes flew up to the face of his lover. Instead of J.D.'s green gaze staring down at him, it was a pair of laser blue orbs that captured him. The challenge was evident, the dare to succumb to his long denied passions swimming in their fiery depths, but it was the love broadcasting from every pore of Logan’s body that sent Clay over the edge.

His cock erupted, and he tried to temper the cry of Logan’s name as he climaxed. Wave after wave of elation swamped him. Finally, after years of denial and avoidance, he experienced pleasure with the man of his dreams.

When the euphoria faded, he came crashing down as he realized that the man would forever remain tucked away in the far corners of his mind. He knew now, as he knew then, that the one thing he and Logan could never share was a passionate love. He drifted to sleep, both hoping and fearing that more visions of the man he loved filled his dreams.

Chapter Six

"Today, I'd like to explore the impact of your childhood and how it shaped your view of relationships, both romantic and casual."

Logan stared at the tablet stationed behind Matt's chair that captioned their words. After the first few sessions, they'd come up with a system so that Logan could read the text and look Matt in the eye. It helped foster a more cohesive dialogue between them while still adapting to Logan's communication needs. His eyes scanned the words again, his heart racing like a drum solo, a cold sweat slicking his brow as he confirmed his initial understanding.

He slid his hands up and down his thighs. "I guess there's not really an option to say 'no', right?"

"You always have a choice, Logan. It's never my intent to remove your autonomy in these sessions."

"But then I'm not maximizing this opportunity to heal."

Matt didn't speak, but his facial expression said enough. Logan inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Okay. Where do you want to start?"

"You've shared about your experience of transitioning into the foster care system and the day you met Clay."

Logan smiled. Not at the memory of those early days, but at the tiny flashback in his mind of the first time he'd met Clay's gray gaze, and the teen had smiled at him.

"But let's take a step back and talk about why you entered the system."

"You mean the sexual, emotional, or physical abuse?"

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