Special Needs (14 page)

“Yeah, I get that.” Ryan nodded. “Maybe I’ll be up for it in a few weeks.”

“After a few dates?” Joe flashed him a smile.

“Exactly.” Ryan was embarrassed, but relieved at the same time that Joe had no hard feelings.

“Is your friend helping you get those?” Joe nodded towards the bar, but Ryan didn’t follow his gaze.

“I sure hope so, ‘cause I’m a bit of a blunderer at it.”

“He’s like your pimp and a chaperon at the same time.”

“Sure looks like it.” This time, Ryan looked to his caretaker, trying not to laugh. Liam emptied an orange shot glass and looked straight at them with a silly grin.

“I think I’ll give you guys some privacy. He’s gonna fall to the floor if he doesn’t sit.” Joe shook his head and grabbed Ryan’s hand once more. “See you around.”

“It's been great to meet you!” Ryan held it for a bit too long, enjoying how rough Joe’s skin felt.

“Have a great time.” Joe nodded at Liam and went back to his own group of friends.

Ryan took a deep breath and looked down at the smoke and fire curling around his fingers. So he panicked, but didn’t feel particularly bad about it. There was no point in forcing things like that.

“And?” Liam dropped on the stool, spilling some vodka on his jeans in the process. He put all six shots he was holding on the table and licked each of his wet fingers clean. They were now probably totally germ free anyway.

Ryan quickly grabbed one of the glasses and drank the alcohol. The heat instantly lit up his throat, but he just closed his eyes for a moment, before looking back at Liam. “I chickened out.”

His caretaker pouted and brushed his long hair back. “Oh?”

“Don’t look at me like that. He liked me, we flirted...” Ryan decided it was time for the second shot.

“But?” Liam downed his in one go.

“Don’t push me! I just didn’t feel like having a one time fuck in the play room. Or maybe I should have...” Ryan bit on his thumb, looking back at Joe, who was drinking beer with his friends. Fuck, he actually rejected his first chance to have sex in ages. What was wrong with him?

Liam rolled his eyes. “Hey, it’s your ass we’re talking about. I’m not gonna tell you what to do.”

Ryan sighed. He didn’t want his first time to be all candles and incense sticks but he didn’t want it to be a quick thing with a stranger in a club dark room either. “Whatever.”

“But hey, you actually flirted. That’s a step forward.” Liam gave him a drunken grin and slapped his hand against Ryan’s shoulder.

“I tell you Liam. I was the Master of Flirt,” he said and emptied the third shot to accentuate just how badass he was.

“What did you talk about?”

“Ah, stuff. He told me he was a ranger.”

“Like a Texas Ranger?” Liam eyed Joe’s broad back with a curious half-smile.

“No! Like a Forest Service ranger. And no, I still have no idea what they do.” He chuckled. “He only told me he hunts men and it went from there. You already had more drinks right? These are mine?” He took the fourth glass.

Liam grumbled, but Ryan decided to ignore him.

“Thanks.” He felt dizzy and exhilarated, still remembering the arousing touch creeping up his thigh. After three shots, the vodka didn’t even burn his tongue anymore. Through the tipsy haze, he watched Liam drink the remaining alcohol.

“I think you’re done for today, Ryan.”

“Oh yeah?” He stuck out his tongue at Liam. “Or I’m just getting started.”

“No.” Liam draped an arm over his shoulders. “You’re not getting drunk with me at a gay S&M party, you bastard.”

Ryan laughed out loud. He couldn’t help imagining Liam crawling under the table in fear, which was so not going to happen. “It’s not like I could overpower you and chain you to the wall.” But if Liam meant that he wanted to go home, he didn't mind. It wouldn’t mean the night was over, especially with Liam around. He couldn’t remember having... a
friend
like this. Sure, he paid Liam for helping him out, but the guy did loads of things out of his own initiative and seemed to genuinely like him.

“No, but these bikers in the corner could.” Liam snorted and laid his head on Ryan’s shoulder. “And I’m not that horny.”

“Don’t be afraid of a few bikers. I’d save you. If they attack, I’d make the sacrifice and offer myself up instead.” Ryan chuckled, oddly comfortable with the dry hair tickling his neck.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you, little slut?” Liam grinned at him, still slouched on Ryan, who held in the sudden urge to kiss him. They both had far too much vodka.

“No, that would be a huge favor, but somebody has to do it, right? Those cocks won’t suck themselves!” He laughed so hard he had to cover his mouth.

“We could do it fifty-fifty.”

“What?” Ryan frowned at him.

“Well...” Liam smiled from his position on Ryan’s arm. He looked too cute with his eyes slightly hazy. “I can’t let you take all ten for the team.”

“So thoughtful.” Ryan couldn’t stop sniggering.

“Unless that’s what you want. A bunch of daddies cumming all over your twinkie self.” Liam sounded as if his tongue was swollen.

Ryan felt his chest flutter when he imagined that. In his fantasies, he wanted that and a million other filthy things, but faced with the possibility, he was realizing that maybe he wasn’t cut out to actually just go for it with strangers.

It was well past midnight and they were going through a six pack of beer bought at a nearby gas station. The parking lot was almost empty as it only allowed overnight stay at the owner's own responsibility. That didn't matter though as Ryan and Liam were there to look after the car. They completely forgot they had to go back home, but with the beer bottles emptying one after another, they weren't getting any more sober either.

“I’m actually thinking now, that that Joe guy... he could have been a werewolf.” Ryan looked up at the full moon, bright and round on the clear sky. It looked like a giant cheesecake.

“Yeah?” asked Liam without even a trace of disbelief. “Why do you think that?” He was laying flat on the asphalt next to their car, using one arm as a pillow.

“Well, he had a wolf tattoo for a start.” Ryan took a sip from his bottle. “He said he worked in the forest. Convenient, right? And on top of that he was a biker. A
biker
. They’re always bikers.”

“Yeah?” Liam smiled at the sky. He looked good with his hair all messy. “What are vamps then?”

“They’re fucking ballet dancers and shit,” Ryan trailed off, wishing he could lay beside him. Hugged by those strong arms, even with Liam’s hands still icy from holding the beer. He could warm them up all right.

“Really?” Liam scowled, slowly sitting up and blinking time after time, as if he was trying to focus. “Retarded.”

“I don’t make up the rules, Liam,” Ryan said in a serious tone and finished his drink.

“Fuck the rules!” Liam got to his wobbly feet and looked around the empty parking lot.

“Yeah? I know! I want a ballet dancing werewolf!” Ryan laughed, suppressing the need to pull him into a hug.

“Shit, now I need to find my tutu.” Liam jogged in place, his hair out of order after resting on the ground.

“Who needs a tutu? Go naked. Fuck the rules!” Ryan shook his head and threw his bottle across the parking lot, but the sound of a car alarm going off, made them both freeze.

“Fuck!” they said in unison, like some vulgar choir.

“Was that... a car window?” Liam slowly turned towards Ryan flinching at the beeping alarm.

“Fuck!” he squealed and started wheeling out of the parking lot. “Come on Liam! The cops will find us!” He had to lift his hands when Liam pushed the chair forward, speeding him up. Too bad he was tripping all the time, his own feet becoming his enemy.

“Shit...”

“Quick! I’ll hold on!” Ryan grabbed the edge of the seat of the wheelchair and hoped for the best. This was one of the rare moments when he wished he got a fancy mobility scooter instead of a customized wheelchair. “No! Someone'll see us!” Every bump in the sidewalk sent him wobbling as Liam pushed the chair down the empty street. They were approaching a slope on the road and instead of trying to slow down, Liam sped up with a low grunt.

“Geronimo!”

Ryan’s eyes went wide and he screamed his head off as Liam hopped on the back of the wheelchair, giving them even more speed. The breeze of warm air was tousling his hair in every possible direction and his heart pounded as if he was an Olympic bobsledder. It was awesome. It was friggin’ awesome!

As soon as those thoughts crossed his mind, the wheelchair tilted forward, making his stomach come up to his throat. His scream only became louder, mixing with the police siren behind them.

And just like that, they got to the end of the slope and it was over. When the wheelchair hit a curb with the combined force of their weight and speed, it tilted forward, and then to the side. Ryan wasn’t even sure what happened, though he could swear Liam fell face-forward over the wheelchair. He was surprised to find himself laying on the street, dizzy and disoriented. The skin on his hands stung bad enough to be rubbed raw on the asphalt.

“Oh fuck... shit.” Liam was laying a few feet away, his forearm shining red in the dim lamplight.

Ryan moaned, turning to his back and looking at him. The braces were holding his legs in an awkward, bent position, making the joints by his groin throb with the strain. “Fuck... are you all right?” His head was spinning so bad when he watched his caretaker try to stand up only to fall back on his ass.

“I guess.” Liam suddenly shot Ryan a worried look. “Oh Christ... Ryan!” He crawled over and reached out to tentatively stroke his arm. His eyes were wide open, and he looked at Ryan as if he had just been told his mother died.

The police car lazily rolled over and stopped by the sidewalk next to them.

“I think I’m okay,” Ryan muttered, looking at the side of his forearm, which shone with blood, but it was only a shallow wound.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” All of a sudden, Liam didn’t seem all that drunk. He turned Ryan to his back, carefully feeling down his body, fingers digging between Ryan’s ribs.

One of the policemen approached them, while the other just leaned against the side of the car and lit up a cigarette.

“Seriously?” sighed the one who walked up to them.

“I’m sorry, officer.” Ryan muttered, hanging his head down in shame.

“What if you broke a bone in your leg?” Liam's chest was heaving. He didn’t seem to have noticed the cop. “You wouldn’t feel it.”

Ryan looked down at his legs, breathless with fear, and for a moment he forgot that actually, he
would
feel it.

The policeman watched them in silence, with a deep frown on his face. If they weren’t involved in this, Ryan would probably consider the situation hilarious

Liam flinched. “It was an accident, mister officer.” He put his warm arm around Ryan, who cautiously tried to sit up.

“Why were you running then? And I understand you’re both drunk?” The cop shook his head. “Are you all right?” He reached out to Ryan, but then recoiled his hand.

“Is it illegal do drunk-drive a wheelchair?” Liam closed Ryan in a protective embrace. He was breathing fast, more tense than Ryan had ever seen him, though he believed he wouldn't seem so to the cop, especially with all the alcohol he had drunk.

The other cop snorted with laughter, and the one next to them, shook his head. “Maybe it isn’t, but throwing things at cars is. You're lucky nothing happened. Let me see your IDs. Can the boy get back into the wheelchair?” he asked Liam, as if Ryan wouldn’t be able to comprehend his words. That was when they both looked at the chair, which was laying on its side, the top wheel still slowly turning in the air, the other bent at an awkward angle.

“Shit.” Liam’s face fell.

“Just let it go, Mike. It’s not worth the hassle, we’re almost finished anyway.” The smoking policeman waved at his partner.

“Yes officer, we’re so sorry... it got out of hand,” Ryan whined, hoping they could talk their way out of this one. But looking back at the wheelchair got him nervous. He would have to spend money he didn’t have to get it repaired.