Microsoft Word - Talkers_Redemption_Lane.docx

quickly, but
    he usually thought right, and so many times Talker needed
    someone who thought right to keep him from running off and doing
    something stupid that he thought up too quickly.
    “I don’t want to hurt you.” Talker was devastated by the thought.
    He didn’t want Brian to have to ever face the consequences for
    something he himself had done. Brian had taken such good care of
    him. Talker wouldn’t hurt him for the world.
    Brian shrugged now, although it obviously cost him. “No
    worries. Just… just, you know. Talk to the shrink, okay?”
    Tate turned back to Dr. Sutherland with haunted eyes. “Okay.
    You wanted to know about The Worst. Date. Ever. It sucked, okay?”

    “TATE?” Brian’s voice called Talker out of his reverie. “Tate? Tate…
    baby… Talker!”
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    Talker’s shoulders jerked so hard that his tendons actually
    snapped against the side of his neck and he had to suppress a
    grimace of pain.
    “Sorry, Brian, I was thinking.”
    Brian’s arms came up around his waist, and Talker realized
    that he’d spaced out, right in front of the coatroom where he
    worked, and he leaned his head up against Brian’s, feeling his
    warmth and easing up a bit on the embarrassment. Brian moved his
    head gingerly, trying to avoid the glued spikes of hair that Tate wore
    Mohawked down the center of his head, and Tate wished for a
    second that he would let his hair grow out. Brian kept complaining
    that the ’hawk was going to put an eye out.
    “I know you were, baby,” Brian said, making Talker focus on the
    moment. “What about?”
    Tate managed to give him a weak smile. “Last week’s session.”
    Brian closed his eyes, and Talker turned his head tightly, so he
    could take a moment to wonder at the blond tips of his lover’s
    eyelashes.
    “It was rough,” Brian said softly. “It’s gonna be rough until we
    hash it all out, then it’ll be better, okay?”
    Talker’s throat got tight, and he nodded jerkily. “Waiting for it to
    get better.”
    Brian’s lips feathered along the right side of Talker’s face. The
    side of the scars. Talker had tattooed over them, and it had hurt like
    a son-of-a-bitch, but he hadn’t cared. Every moment it hurt, Tate
    had told himself that this way, the world would get to see him the
    way he wanted to be seen, not the way that his cruel old man or
    drunk old lady had tried to make sure he was seen. There was one
    person in the world Talker trusted to touch him, touch his face and
    his body on the right side, and that was Brian. Except for… for…
    Talker’s Redemption | Amy Lane
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    The Worst. Date. Ever., right? Because Trevor hadn’t been “allowed,”
    right? Tate had told him the date was over, right? Right?
    But Talker hadn’t been able to say that to Brian or to Dr.
    Sutherland, not at first, and maybe that’s why his mind had been
    yanked back to their session like some sort of hideous time-
    travelling neural retriever that kept returning home to the one place
    that really beat the hell out of it.
    “It’ll get better,” Brian murmured. “I promise, baby. That’s what
    I’m here for, to make it all better.”
    Oh, Brian, you do. You do. You make it better every time you
    touch me.
    Talker put his hand over the sturdy hand that rested on his own
    flawed shoulder and shuddered. “I just don’t see…,” he muttered and
    then tried to focus on the song that had been playing in his head all
    day. It didn’t come, and he twitched a little.
    “Don’t see what?” Oh God, Brian’s arms came up and wrapped
    around Talker’s chest, and he just felt so good. His shoulders were
    so wide, Tate didn’t see how anything could ever hurt him if Brian
    stood between him and the world.
    “Why it just can’t be us. Why do I have to spill my guts in front
    of old-hippie-shrinkoid….”
    “That’s not nice!” Brian must have really liked Sutherland,
    because he didn’t often defend members of the human race.
    “Yeah, whatever. Why do I have to spill my guts for Doc
    Sutherland? You know the truth. You can help me…. Why can’t we
    be enough?”
    There was a sigh in his ear, and those strong, strong,
    gorgeous arms tightened around him to the point of making it hard
    to breathe, and then they relaxed.
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    “I’m not enough, Talker,” Brian said at last. “Don’t you deserve
    more than just me?”
    Talker sniffed, appalled at the thought. “You’re more