Breakfall (16 page)

What he taught had no value.

What he had learned was a fraud.

Burrows-sensei would turn his face away from him for his loss of heart.

He’d lived a lie for so many years.

He was inept.

Worthless.

Incompetent.

Soiled.

Helpless tears wet the crisp cotton fabric of his pillow, and he let them.

H
E
PADDED
up the stairs. His socks slid on the dark wood, catlike and silent. Asbjorn followed the hallway past several doors: a bathroom with a claw-foot bathtub, a room whose shut door proclaimed “Girlz only—KEEP OUT!!!”, the spacious master suite, a study in black and white, the office….

The last door was shut, and Asbjorn knocked on it gently and listened for an answer. When none came, he grasped the glass doorknob and twisted it. The door swung in with a quiet creak, revealing a sunny yellow guest room. The large bed was in the middle, and on it rested the curled form of Sean Gallaway.

Asbjorn’s heart stopped at the sight. He never imagined Sean could look so small. His hair was splayed in a messy halo around his head. He did not move.

“Sean.” Asbjorn’s voice was quiet, soothing. “Hey, Sunshine.” He dared to sit on the edge of the bed, facing Sean’s curved back. “Sean. Sean, I’m so sorry. I’ve been an ass.”

He noticed Sean’s body tightening even more.

“I missed you. I tried texting you. All of this is my fault. This would never have happened to you if you’d been staying at my place.”

No response—but Sean didn’t tell him to leave, either. With careful slowness, Asbjorn crawled upon the bed. He slid his left arm underneath Sean and his pillow, draping his right over Sean’s arms, his touch feather-light. He barely allowed his chest to touch Sean’s back.

“I’m here for you, Sean. I’ll do anything I can to make this go away.”

Asbjorn was rewarded by Sean’s body relaxing just a little bit. They stayed that way for some time—uncounted minutes—and Sean relaxed some more, leaning his back into Asbjorn’s chest. Asbjorn pulled him in to spoon him from behind and felt Sean tense before he relaxed again, permitting the contact.

Asbjorn nuzzled his hair. “Your hair smells like bubble gum.”

“Heather’s shampoo.” Sean’s voice was cloggy with tears.

“Still sunshiny, though.” Asbjorn burrowed his nose through the overgrown strands to reach the neck right under the ear. He blew the wispy hair off the smooth skin. Then he kissed it.

I love you, Sean.

He felt the words but couldn’t make himself say them aloud. Instead he kissed Sean’s neck again. “Whatever it takes, I’ll be here for you.”

He felt Sean sigh, and his breathing soon became regular and even. Unwilling to disturb his sunshine, Asbjorn closed his eyes, inhaling Sean’s unique, soothing scent mixed with the pink bubblegum of Heather’s shampoo, and allowed himself to sink into the mattress.

A
QUIET
knock on the doorframe woke Asbjorn first.

Dr. Verbosa came in. “It’s just me,” she whispered, smiling. She shook out a large blanket and draped it over them.

As soon as Sean felt the contact, he woke. His flailing elbow struck Asbjorn’s healing ribs as Sean sprang to his feet.

He looked around as though expecting danger with every rushed breath.

“It’s just me, Sean.” Dr. Verbosa’s voice was calm and soothing. “I brought you a blanket.”

Sean forced a deep breath, a flush on his cheeks.

“Oh… I am sorry—that was silly of me. Just a bad dream….” He glanced away, embarrassed.

Dr. Verbosa looked at him with sympathy. “Since you’re up already, you may as well use the bathroom and get ready for bed. It’s almost midnight.”

When Sean left the room, she turned to Asbjorn. “You and Sean figure out your sleeping arrangements. If he’d like to be alone, you can use the futon in the office down the hall. I left some bedding there in case you need it.”

He stretched and groaned. “Thank you, Dr. Verbosa.”

“Call me Margaret.” She smiled. “How’s your rib?”

“Good. I just got elbowed and it wasn’t too bad.”

“About that….” Dr. Verbosa gave a delicate pause. “Sean probably had a flashback. They are not unusual, but they will go away in time.”

Asbjorn swung his legs off the bed and stood up, stretching his frame. “I know about flashbacks.” He met the woman’s eyes evenly. “There were guys in my unit who went through some bad shit. I won’t be overprotective. Don’t worry.”

She smiled as if relieved. “Ah. Yes. It’s best if he adjusts to everything being normal. I’m glad you’re aware of the process. Let me know if I can be of any help, Asbjorn.” To his surprise, Dr. Verbosa—Margaret—came close to him and reached up with her hand, stroking his jaw with maternal tenderness. “Nell brought me up to date on your situation. Don’t you dare think this is your fault. Sometimes, things just happen. We deal with them. End of story.”

She exited the room, leaving Asbjorn standing there like a pillar of salt.

T
HE
PILLOW
sat on Asbjorn’s face to keep the light out, but even so, he couldn’t fall asleep. Thoughts raced through his mind, searching old data, retrieving, and organizing. Old memories from his training surfaced—briefings on PTSD, on surviving trauma, flashbacks, capture by the enemy, torture survival—and those several men in his unit who suffered and lived to tell about it. His own scrapes clamored for attention, but he pushed them into the background.

This wasn’t about him. This was about Sean.

Then, of course, there was the matter of revenge. Revenge belonged to Sean, but that didn’t mean Asbjorn didn’t get to fantasize about the things he’d like to do to the sad, misshapen excuse of a man who did this to his… his what? Friend? Definitely friend.

Boyfriend? That was still up to Sean, although Asbjorn had strong doubts that Sean would want to enter into a relationship after what happened. As for the unworthy asshole sack of fucking monkey shit who did this to his sunshine—he’d get even. Somehow.

Asbjorn felt Sean stir next to him.

“Bjorn? Are you okay?”

So Sean wasn’t asleep, either.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You’re so tense.”

“Just thinking.”

Silence passed like a river over them.

“Asbjorn?”

“Yeah.”

“When you said you’d do anything, before… what did you mean by that?”

Asbjorn removed the pillow from his head and shoved it under his ear as he turned toward Sean. “I meant that I am really, truly sorry for snapping at you. I’m sorry I asked you to leave. Had I not done that, maybe things would have gone differently.”

Sean’s thoughtful eyes examined Asbjorn’s face, which Asbjorn knew was still yellow with old bruises. “I would have had to return to my room at some point, Bjorn. It was probably unavoidable, considering who the guy is.”

“You know who he is?” Asbjorn tensed.

“Not his name, no. But I know where I saw him before and what he wants.”

“Do the police know?”

“Yeah. I won’t let an asshole like that intimidate me.”

A slow, proud grin developed on Asbjorn’s face.

“Damn straight.” He gave Sean a thoughtful, intent look. “Sean. You know, with stuff like this, the more you talk about it, the faster you get it out of your system.”

He observed the way Sean’s jaw tightened. “Will you tell me what happened?”

Sean settled his head against Asbjorn’s shoulder, and Asbjorn felt him release a ragged sigh. There was silence for a while—a silence so long, Asbjorn thought Sean would never say a thing. Then Sean’s quiet, uncertain voice broke it. The story spilled out in halting fragments, and Asbjorn was silent and still, not saying a word for fear Sean might change his mind.

“It started weeks ago with this weird feeling that I was being followed—you know, every so often. Like there was a target on my back….”

S
EAN
DREADED
having to talk about it, but Asbjorn was next to him like a warm, comforting anchor to reality, centering him. Once he opened his mouth, the narrative spilled out all by itself. In some places, Sean fell silent before he plunged into reliving those parts again, and he was grateful for Asbjorn’s quiet support.

“I just feel so useless, Bjorn.”

“I know.”

“I feel like such a coward, y’know? Like I should have
done
something. And there I was, shaking like a leaf. Totally weak, useless—”

Asbjorn cut him off for the first time. “You did something. You kept your head about you and you survived. You collected data as best you could. You didn’t panic.”

Asbjorn pulled him in a little closer. “Sean, what do you know about the adrenaline response?”

“You mean the fight-or-flight reaction?”

“That one.”

“Uh, not much I guess. Why?”

“Because, my sunshine, that’s exactly what happened to you. You fought and used up your adrenaline, and when it became apparent that this particular battle wouldn’t go your way in the physical sense, your mind told you, very sensibly, to flee. Except you couldn’t. Your adrenaline surge wore off and your body reacted by shaking. That’s a perfectly normal physiological response and has absolutely nothing to do with courage or cowardice.”

Sean pondered Asbjorn’s words.

“How do you know that?”

Asbjorn sighed. “From the Navy. Everybody gets trained to know what to do in the event of capture or torture. It isn’t fun, but it’s useful to know what to expect. Everyone, and I mean everyone, has a limit. I do too.”

They remained silent while Sean mulled the new information over.

“You still haven’t told me what I can do to help, Sean.”

Sean flushed.

Asbjorn raised his eyebrows. “Wow. You really
are
my sunshine, lighting up like that. So, spill it. You want me to leave? Stay? Talk? Be quiet?”

Sean turned his face away from Asbjorn and studied a picture on the wall with sudden interest. Yet Asbjorn stayed still. The ball was in Sean’s court.

“You’ll hate me for it.” Sean’s voice was but a whisper.

“Try me.”

“I felt… I felt that you and I had something good going on.”

“Yeah.” Asbjorn whispered, and from his crestfallen look, Sean realized that Asbjorn had been steeling himself for a gentle rejection.

“Well, I fucking
refuse
to be that fragile, Asbjorn. There’s no way in hell I’ll let that asshole control my life and take that away from me.” He paused. “From us.” Sean took a hot, angry breath before he went on, keeping his voice quiet. “The worst part—the worst part is feeling the guy’s hands on me. It’s like he’s still around.”

“Hmmm…?” Asbjorn made an encouraging, noncommittal noise.

“I was wondering… I realize this is not, like, a totally ideal first time, if you were ever even interested in me that way….” Sean’s voice died away, but he didn’t avert his eyes from Asbjorn’s face.

“Go on,” Asbjorn whispered.

“I was wondering if you could take that part away.”

“W
HATEVER
IT
takes.”

Asbjorn raised himself on one elbow. His intent gaze met Sean’s frightened brown eyes. He descended toward the tense, shut lips slowly, his kiss gentle and chaste.

“But I am interested in you—
that way
.” Asbjorn thought he imagined Sean shiver in reaction, and he felt him tense.

“It’s me, Sean. Just me.” He ran his long fingers through the soft hair, caressing, stroking, placing gentle kisses on Sean’s mouth, his jaw, his swollen eye.

“It’s you… As… bjorn.” Sean’s voice came out in halting gasps.

“Only me, and only you.” Asbjorn ran his hand down Sean’s long, graceful neck, rubbing his shoulder on the way south, observing Sean’s expression with intent care. What Sean had requested was as unexpected as it was unusual. Sure, the two had been dancing around one another for some time now, but to just ask like that, openly, made Asbjorn wonder whether complying with Sean’s request was the right thing to do.

Suppose Sean backed out? Suppose he freaked out or he didn’t like it—the ensuing awkwardness might well mean the end of their fledgling relationship.

Yet if it helped Sean deal, then he would risk it.

Asbjorn’s brows were drawn in concentration as he studied Sean’s face. His hand ghosted over the well-formed chest and down to the waistband of the blue boxer shorts. He let his hands explore the exposed skin.

“Bjorn.” Sean’s eyes were shut, his face a mask of tense
concentration.

“Yeah. Just me.” Asbjorn chose to ignore the hated nickname, focusing on Sean instead, running his hand underneath the shorts and down Sean’s slender hip. He saw tears leak from under Sean’s eyelashes and bent down to kiss them off.

“Too much?”

“Don’t stop.”

Asbjorn stilled. “Are you absolutely sure, Sean?”

He felt the brown eyes on him. “I fucking refuse to have that asshole affect my life in any way.”

“Okay.”

Asbjorn let his hands explore Sean’s body, inch by inch, removing his shirt and his shorts, kissing all the right places. He cupped Sean’s hardening length in his hand when he felt him tense.

“You’re still sure about this?” Asbjorn furrowed his brow in concern.

“Yeah.”

“Take it slow, Sean. No need to get upset. I just want to help. I want to see you smile again.” His soothing voice beckoned Sean to open his eyes.

“Bjorn. I am in bed with a guy, and I’m naked. I think I’m a bit….”

“Outside your comfort zone?” Asbjorn asked, cracking a grin.

Sean nodded.

“Whatever you want, Sean.”

“I want to take your clothes off. It will make it more fair,” Sean whispered.

Moments later, their clothes were mingled in a heap by the foot of the bed. Asbjorn growled as Sean’s warm hands ran up his bare chest and down his back. He leaned over Sean, letting their lips brush, then press together in mutual exploration.

The little light was still on, the door was closed, and their eyes were open, taking in every detail. Asbjorn pressed down, caressing Sean’s lower lip with his tongue, flicking it against the corner of Sean’s mouth. Sean’s lips parted, and suddenly, Asbjorn was flipped onto his back and kissed with fierce and unequaled passion.