Sawdust and Berries

Chapter 2-3

Early the next morning, Liam entered Time Out again.

Skyler was on the phone and gestured for him to sit. Liam discreetly scanned the premises—no blue hair in sight. He picked up a magazine and pretended to read it.

Soon, Skyler came around the desk to offer a cup of coffee. She wore a green vinyl dress today. “You left pretty fast last time, I didn’t have a chance to—”

“I was in a hurry. I’m sorry.”

“You’re back for more, huh? Didn’t I tell you? Kieran’s great. He’s a healer.” She was gushing a little. “You know, he can stop a migraine by touching your forehead. And oh, one time, this guy, this weird customer, he had a massive nose bleed, and Kieran concentrated and it stopped.”

“Wow.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah, wow is right. Kieran is amazing. He’s been working here since he was seventeen years old. He was emancipated. Isn’t that something?”

Emancipated.

Liam had heard that word before, but he wasn’t sure what it meant exactly. He decided to play it safe. He smiled and nodded, before taking a long sip of the bitter coffee.

“That means Kieran was granted full legal rights to his life before the age of eighteen.”

The door swung hard against the wall, and again, Kieran breezed in with a powerful draft of hot air. At the sight of him, Liam’s heartbeat accelerated. His saliva stuck in his throat.

Kieran looked over and smiled, dropping his backpack by the front desk. “Man,” he said, pulling his T-shirt off to reveal a sculpted torso under a tight yellow tank. “It’s so hot out there. I spent half the night in the shower.”

Liam shifted in his seat.

Kieran wore black skater pants ripped at the knee. The pants hung loosely on his narrow hips, leaving his flat stomach a bit exposed. Liam caught sight of a tattoo of some root, some plant, running down Kieran’s white skin below the navel.

Catching his stare, Kieran looked up from his phone, ducking his head playfully. There was a mesmerizing orange glow in his amber eyes. “Mr. Stokes. Nice to see you again. You ready for me?”

The pleasant wickedness on Kieran’s face paralyzed Liam. “Uh, yeah. If you are.”

“Oh, I was born ready.” Kieran laughed a dorky laugh. He pointed to the back, inviting Liam to follow him.

As they walked down the hall, Liam tried to keep his eyes off Kieran’s round ass. From where he was, he could smell Kieran’s shampoo.

It smelled like an afternoon of picking wild berries.

In the backroom, Kieran handed him a towel and left the room. “I’ll be back in a few.”

When Kieran had left, Liam shook his head at himself. “Emancipated,” he repeated the word.

Time for a shot of honesty, please.

Aside from online gay porn and pay-per-view movies, Liam had kept his s****l orientation safely secured away, bound and restricted, and under high surveillance. Now, if he was going to eventually do anything about it, it was going to be with a foreigner on a twenty-four-hour round trip to Montreal. The man would be old enough to shave and would have to suffer from short term memory loss.

“Are you decent?” Kieran asked at the door.

Decent.

That word, more than any other, weighed on Liam’s conscience.

He peeled off his clothes with effort, wrapped the towel around his waist, and stretched out on the massage table. “I am now.”

Kieran entered, getting right down to business. He popped a CD into the player, lit a scented candle, and dimmed the lights. Kieran went through these motions as if he were turning on a computer.

From the table, Liam watched him pour heated oil into his palms. His young fingers seemed to have a life of their own. Their movements were brisk and powerful, yet Liam knew the touch of them would be so sweet. “How have you been feeling since Tuesday morning?” Kieran asked.

Liam got a whiff of that wild berry scent again.

Confused.

Dying to see your eyes.

“Better,” Liam said instead.

“Cool. These things take time. But if you come often for a few weeks like I suggested, you’ll see a difference. Then we’ll space the sessions out gradually. I read your questionnaire and everything seems all right. Your insurance will cover this.” While he spoke, Kieran had begun digging into Liam’s flesh, just below the shoulder blades, and with every decisive probe, Liam’s senses were sharpening. Then Kieran leaned over him, his hands slowly moving up to Liam’s lower neck. “Thing is, if this doesn’t work within a few weeks, I’ll suggest seeing a physiotherapist.” He massaged Liam’s with the edge of his palms, releasing the tension there. “But I think it’s mainly tension we’re dealing with here.”

Through the open window, Liam could hear the world going about its usual business. Boulevard Saint-Denis bustled with the morning traffic, but he couldn’t relate to it. The penetrating herbal scent filling the air had become a dense foliage in which he hid. The glow of the candle was the tail light of the last car on earth as it drove away. Kieran’s breathing was the tropical wind through the leaves. They were in a space that couldn’t be reached. For the first time since he was a boy, Liam inhabited his body. He could feel it around his mind. An armor of synapses. He knew he’d denied his body for too long. Had misused and abused it with his restraint.

But under Kieran’s hands, it was awakening.

There was a gentle rap at the door and Kieran’s fingers left his skin. “Yeah?” Kieran left the table and went to the door.

Liam shivered a few times and listened to Kieran and a woman whisper about the morning schedule. Outside, there was some angry honking. Curses were being tossed out of car windows. Liam closed his eyes, hoping to find that perfect space again. But it was impossible.

There was only the feel of the Egyptian cotton on his hips.

“I’m sorry about that,” Kieran said, shutting the door behind him. He leaned over him once more and Liam couldn’t help staring at Kieran’s hard stomach through half-shut lids.

Kieran wore a white leather belt and the buckle was one word: Independent.

“Do you want me to talk to you during our sessions, or do you prefer silence? Last time, you passed out before I could even ask you.”

“You can talk to me as much as you like. It’s okay.”

Kieran’s breath smelled like watermelon bubble gum. How delicious his mouth would taste. He leaned in closer, using his weight to apply more pressure on Liam’s shoulders. “You’re not gonna do that today. Trust me.” There was a hint of pleasure in his musical voice.

Liam tensed up. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not gonna go so easy on you.” Kieran poured more hot oil into his hands. “I’m gonna have to go deeper to work on this adhesion. We’ll try it for half an hour and see how much you can take. Then I’ll finish off with a gentler massage. Like the one I gave you last time. Sound good?” Kieran’s knuckles were already kneading into his aching muscles. “You’re gonna feel some pain, but you need to tell me when it gets too uncomfortable.”

It had been less than three minutes, but Liam was sorer than a boxer after a nasty match. When Kieran’s energetic hands rippled down the small of his back, the pain dispersed in every possible direction and Liam groaned. “Oh, s**t, that hurts.”

Kieran paused. “You’re wound up so tight.” Kieran’s breath was short from the effort. “I’m gonna apply some pressure on your lower back, using my forearms, so I need you to relax, all right? This isn’t gonna hurt. I promise.” Kieran set his hands on his skin again. “See, that’s better,” he whispered. “I already feel the difference under my fingers.”

The subtle sensuality in Kieran’s voice and the way his fingers caressed the back of his neck, caused Liam’s c**k to harden under the towel. He shifted, grateful to be on his stomach. All he wanted was some mindless chatter, anything to keep his hungry body in line. “So, how long have you been massaging people?”

That sounded so wrong.

“I’ve been a licensed massage therapist for four years.”

Liam picked up on the pride in Kieran’s voice. “You started young.”

“I’ve been on my own for a while. I guess I’m precocious.” Kieran’s warm fingers were crawling up Liam’s spine, like well-trained soldiers.

Liam felt the hardcore resistance giving way under them. When Kieran reached his shoulder blades, Liam couldn’t help moaning with pleasure.

“That feels good, huh?” Kieran was now rolling his thumbs up Liam’s deltoids.

Liam was going to fall asleep again. His eyes were getting heavy.

“You can sleep if you like,” Kieran whispered. “You look like you need it.”

“I’ve been struggling with insomnia lately.” Liam’s voice was thick with drowsiness.

“After this, you’re gonna sleep like a baby.” Kieran was tunneling his fingers into Liam’s hair, massaging his scalp, sending blissful chills down Liam’s back. “Maybe you could ask your wife to massage your head like this a bit. People underestimate how pleasurable it is.”

Liam’s heart gave a thud against the table. “I don’t have a wife.”

“Oh.”

“I have a dog,” he added spontaneously.

Kieran laughed, but his fingers never stopped sliding in and out of Liam’s hair. “A dog, huh? What kind?” He pinched Liam’s earlobes between his thumb and index, rubbing them carefully.

“An old German Shepherd.”

“Nice. What’s his name?”

Liam’s eyes were shut tight and he could smell Kieran’s skin and clothes.

“Are you sleeping?”

Liam opened his eyes. “His name is Faulkner.”

Kieran’s fingers paused. “Like the writer?”

“My own strange homage to him.”

“Cool. I wouldn’t have pinned you as the type of guy to name his dog after a writer.”

“No? Why not?”

“I guess because you work in construction and—”

“And all we do is eat salami sandwiches, drink diet Coke, and yell obscenities at the girls.”

Kieran’s fingertips now merely grazed Liam’s skin, teasing him.

And what would you do if he slipped his hand into that towel?

“You’re right,” Kieran said, after a moment. “That’s a prejudice. But few people surprise me.”

“Well, you’re lucky. People shock the hell out of me most of the time.”

Kieran giggled. “I see.”