Date: Mon, 18 May 2020 19:40:17 -0400
From: Edem Stories <edemstories@gmail.com>
Subject: Green eyed Boy chapter 13

Green eyed Boy Part 13

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This story contains male on male sexual content both implied and explicit.
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			~~~~Patrick~~~~

My heart tore with every animal they pulled out of that trailer. How they
could handle them without being torn apart I was not sure. I did not know
if I could do such a thing as they did here. It was just all too good to be
true that Logans family was this loving. At least that his father
was. Charles seemed a sullen, silent cranky figure. Faye and Meg had not
really spoken more than a word my direction but then again both times I had
seen them so far, they were shoulder deep in some job. Logans `can I keep
him?' question to his dad, Pops, caught me a bit off-guard and before I
realized I said it the words were rolling out of my mouth.

"What do you mean? I'm the one who found you, so I should get to keep you
right?"

Mr. Divan just grinned toothily at both of us.

"Now, now, boys. I think we can safely say you can keep each other. Loggey
I'm going to be sleeping at the stable tonight. You said you two are
staying till tomorrow evening?"

"Yes dad."

Logan sighed at the nickname again and I could not help the smile I felt,
my arms going around him from behind and chin on his shoulder. It just
seemed so... right... and the fact no one here would yell or cuss us out
for it was beyond expectation. I was a little worried `Pop' would not like
me wallowing on Logan so, but he just gave a warm smile.

"Welcome to the glen Paddy. Fair warning, we're up with the rooster around
here."

"You have a rooster?"

I did not think I had ever seen a real one aside from an elementary school
field trip. Logan laughed.

"Not anymore. Fox got'm. but we do have hens running around. Ever had a
fresh egg for breakfast? After you do you'll never want store bought again
I swear."

"Can't say I have. I'll try anything once"

I just watched Pop meander off to the barn, worn blue jeans, grey button up
and salt and pepper high and tight hair though more salt than pepper. Logan
must have gotten his dark golden-brown locks from his mother. Who I
thankfully remembered not to ask about as I saw Pops still had a worn gold
ring around his finger. Logan leaned back against me and whispered
something.

"I didn't catch that Loggey?"

"Oh! Not you too! Alright Paddy. Two can play at that. I was asking if you
wanted to go inside though. I think we've missed supper."

I had to laugh at his dislike of the nickname and the one his dad had
tossed at me.

"I don't mind Paddy; I've been called so much worse. Patty, Patricia,
Pat-Pat. You name it. As for dinner. Yea, let's grab a bite and I could
stand a nap, or early bed... it's been a hell of a day Logan."

"I can well imagine. If you don't want me to, I won't tell dad what's going
on any more than he already knows about your family, which is just that you
aren't welcome back. But I'd rather tell him."

"I... Yea, you can tell him. I trust you. Your dad, pops... I wish my
family was like him."  We turned and headed for the weathered porch, Logan
putting an arm around my shoulders comfortingly and gave a sly smile.

"Trust me, we've had our ups and downs too Patrick, but we're family in the
end and love each other. That's what counts right?"

I could only nod, thinking that's how it was supposed to be at least. Logan
headed us for the kitchen, brushing a stack of books off into a basket to
clear the counter and thinking.

"You got me thinking about eggs now, Omelet?"

"Sounds good to me love. something light is best after today. Those horses?
You adopt a lot of them?"

"Yea, the farm was grandmothers, when mom inherited it she wanted to
rescue. Lucy was the first. We've had... sixty? I think. Come through here
now. Some we just get healthy then adopt out, others didn't make it. They
go out to the back woods; we just make sure they know they were cared
for. We've had three that stayed here, just too bad shape to get adopted
out even after care. Retirement is what dad called it. But others once they
are sound, able to be ridden and such, help keep this place afloat by doing
lessons and such."

He talked as he cooked, adding tomatoes, peppers, and diced ham to the
omelet. I felt useless just sitting back and watching but the tone in his
voice as he talked about this place made me wonder why he was starting his
own shop instead of working here.

"But you don't want to work here?"

"Pat? If anyone ever says they are into horses for the money they are lying
through their teeth. They are beautiful, stupidly smart animals who deserve
way better than they get in life but... they eat like crazy and there's
always a hay shortage going on somewhere. Their vet bills are obscene. Dad
barely stays afloat. There's been many times we've nearly lost everything
just to save one horse. I love them... I really do, just not sure I can
handle the heartbreak you know?"

I nodded silently at that and took the plate he handed me. Worn ceramic
with a few cracks running through its glazing. I had taken ceramics in high
school and immediately recognized a handmade piece but settled into a chair
while he sat on the kitchen counter and we ate in silence a moment.

"I don't think I could handle it. Seeing them like that all the time. But
to see them get better? It's got to be great. Did you ever decide what kind
of auto shop you want to open up Logan?"

"I don't know, I've had a lot of thoughts, motorcycles to cars or even
restoration but I'm not sure I would be any good compared to the stuff I've
seen come out of your sisters shop before. That still amazes me, I knew
your sister before I knew you, only thanks to my grandmother on dad's
side."

"I know that problem. I just know I needed to get out of that house. Small
business management seemed the way to go at the time."

I was having doubts, the classes were fairly easy so far except for
financing and excel but that was almost more the damned programs they made
us use. Inserting space 0 would get you an automatic incorrect whereas 0
was correct on some of them, while other similar answers would require the
space before or after. It drove half the class crazy on a good day. I just
was not sure that was what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I
traced the faint pattern in the glaze of the plate with a finger.

"Like those? My grans on mom's side made them. She was a ceramic artist
when she was young, still did it till she was ninety too. She had mom late
in life."

"oh? I used to take ceramics in high school. I can't remember the teachers
name but she was always encouraging me. Father broke every one of my pieces
though. Said it was a worthless waste of time just like me."

I felt the blood rush to my face and knew I was getting upset again,
closing my eyes, and looking up at the feel of hands taking the plate away
and then cupping my cheeks. Those bright green eyes seemed both full of
sorrow and anger somehow at the same time.

"You have never been, nor will you ever be a waste of time Patrick. Come
on, let's wash up and get some rest alright? I'll ask dad tomorrow about
where Nan's stuff is. Hell, it may still be in her studio for all I
know. It's on this property, out past the pasture."

"That's alright, I'd love to see it sometime, but I don't want to be a
bother. I keep breaking down like some kid with you Logan."

I did stand though and follow him to the bathroom. There was one attached
to his bedroom and thankfully this time, Lucy, Max, and Ruby were all
outside so when he locked the bedroom door and pulled the shutters closed
we were without audience. His room was only a little neater than the rest
of the house. A backpack tossed in a corner, riding trophies gathering dust
on a shelf along with several dozen books about motorcycles and antique
cars. The dresser had seen better days and held a picture taped to it of a
young Logan sitting in a woman's lap building a sandcastle together. One
look at her golden hair and bright green eyes told me that was his mother.

The attached bathroom was surprisingly decent sized. A tub with shower and
the plastic shielding. I hated those tracks that supported those
things. They always cut at your bare feet. The sink was a double with a
mirror that needed a good wiping down and toilet had a... blue fuzzy lid on
it.  Logan stripped down and I could not help but look him over.  His scars
were faint now from the accident and his body was just muscular enough
without being hard as a brick. I liked that he was just soft enough in
places to rest against but strong enough to handle the horses or bikes. He
gave me an expectant look and I stripped down too while the water was
turned on. Logan bending over was so damn tempting.

"You know you don't have to be such a tease, right?"

He shot a grin back at my quip and slapped his own ass before jumping into
the shower, giving a little yelp.

"Cold! Get in here Pat."

"Need to be warmed up?"

I had to offer and was a bit more careful getting into the shower with
him. Two showers in one day seemed a bit much but this was different than
earlier. I felt `here' and awake for the first time in a long time. Logan
grabbed a washcloth and soaped it up, starting to rinse himself under the
oversized showerhead, I snatched the cloth from him and started at his
back, running down the muscles and faint rolls at his sides. He had just
enough body hair to him that it defined his muscles under the wet skin. I
traced every one of them slowly and down to his crevice, being sure to
clean well between his cheeks as he leaned against the shower wall and
moaned a bit.  It was an encouraging sound and my heart fluttered at
hearing his breathlessness. I reached around and ran the cloth across his
cock and massaged his balls. Logan whispering back at me.

"That feels good, fuck me Patrick. Please?"

His hardened cock in hand I rubbed my own against his slick ass but pulled
away a moment.

"Logan? I've never bottomed, I don't want a screw though. Love me?"

I kissed his neck and my voice almost came out pleadingly, tasting the soap
and his skin, his hand coming back to my head and he groaned again, leaning
against me.

"Always Pat, turn around."

I slid a little, but the tubs rubber mat stopped me from falling as I
leaned on the shower wall uncertainly. Logan took the rag and swept it
across my body in slow lingering circles. His lips down my spine mingling
with the feel of the hot water spilling across us both. He moved the
showerhead a bit and began to slowly wash my ass and balls. Sliding a
finger against my tight hole making it hurt. I winced and groaned as he
penetrated and stopped.

"Shit you are tight. Don't tense up"

He was right, I had tensed and forced myself to relax, he thrust his finger
in deeper and I had never felt anything like that before as he stroked
inside me, finally withdrawing his fingers, and pressing his cockhead
against me. I was not sure how it was going to fit, for a moment it seemed
like it would not until a soft pop came and he pinched at my ass, bending
over and softly biting my back and shoulders distracting me as my breath
left me. I had my hands and forehead against the warming tiles of the wall
and could only gasp a single word.

"More"

I wanted to feel him fill me all the way, I wanted to know what it was like
and above all else, I wanted him in ways I never had wanted anyone
else. Logan complied and thrust slowly deeper, soon bracing one hand above
my head, the other around my waist stroking my own hard cock. He drove deep
and hard and the small bathroom was full of our smell, sweat, soap and sex,
the sound of our wet bodies slapping together and sliding on the tub and
shower until I could not stand the pounding of my prostate any longer and
felt white hot as six sticky ropes splashed against the wall. Moaning
Logan's name seemed to urge him to finish as well. His throbbing cock
filling my colon as he pushed balls deep into my spread ass, his chin
against my back.

"Oh God, Patrick... oh fuck."

"Didn't we just?"

I panted a bit, shaking as he released me and took a moment to lean his
shoulder against the wall. I looked up at him over my own and could only
admire the vision above me. He took the showerhead wand after a moment and
rinsed us both off and the tub before helping me out of the now cold
water. Stepping out himself we both toweled off and silently went to his
bed, only a double but we curled up against each other in the nude, him
spooning against my back and whispering in my ear.

"You are safe with me Patrick. I love you, and I won't let anyone hurt you
again."

My hand went to his on my chest and held it there. I knew it. I knew he
would do his best to keep that promise.

"I love you too Logan... we... we can switch rooms with Neil or Pete. I
know you won't let me fail, and I won't let you either."


			~~~~Logan~~~~

I had rarely slept better, Patrick in my arms and his dark hair tickling my
nose. The sun was barely up, and I was blinking awake. It took a moment to
realize his cellphone chirping had woken me. I reached to the bedside table
and grabbed it from alongside mine. The top message was from Ab saying to
call her, dated only a few minutes ago.

"Pat? Ab's needs you to call her"

Patrick grumbled and rolled over, burying his face into my chest and
mumbling out his four-digit code.

"you call her? If it's important I'll talk to her."

He was so not a morning person, but I found the way he curled up
adorable. Not that I dared call him adorable to his face. I entered the pin
and found his sister in the phone book. After a moment of ringing Abs
picked up.

"Conch's, you wreck'm I rebuild them."

"Hey Abigail? It's Logan. Patrick's phone said you needed to talk to him,
but he's sorts of out of it right now. Is it an emergency?"

"Logan? Right! Cute boy with the Indian chief. Call me Ab's or Abbie, nah
not an emergency but he said for me to call mom, her cellphones
disconnected and no one's answering the home number. Not surprised. Pats
not an early bird unless he has to be."  I had to think a moment and it
dawned on me why Meredith's phone was not working. Patrick must have
forgotten.

"Her cell accidently got smashed, I'll give you Harris's number. He helped
her move out from Daniel yesterday. Hang on."

I eyed Patrick who had one eye open but did not seem really awake. Kissing
his cheek, I scooted off the bed and pulled the blanket back over him,
getting a pair of jeans on and heading out of the room.

"Sorry, didn't want to wake Pat. First off, your moms alright, I think
she's had a hell of a wakeup call though. Daniel left a nasty message on
Patrick's phone, we think he used a burner, it said that Meredith had
committed suicide and it was Patrick's fault."

I was glad I did not have the phone close to my ear while I started making
some French toast for breakfast. Ab's devolved into cursing and yelling
about that asshole and how she was going to do certain anatomically
impossible things to him and his cohorts especially if they hurt her
mother. I heard someone else come into the room where Abs was and try to
calm her down some. I finally managed to interject.

"Abs, hey, don't do anything foolish, you have a business and all sorts of
other things going on I'm sure. Harris is doing his best to help your
mom. I've got Patrick at my dad's place today. And I'll get you my phone
number too. We'll be heading back to campus this afternoon. But I've
already told Patrick he's more than welcome to stay with me for the
holidays and winter break. I'll talk to my dad and see about inviting you
and Miss Aberg here too if you like for thanksgiving and Christmas."

"Go ahead."

Dad's voice made me jump, he was leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen
looking tired, holding a coffee cup. I nodded and relayed that to Abs.
"We'll think about its Logan. Thanks. And your bikes almost done. I just
need one more part to come in for the warbonnet. Just so you know,
Thanksgiving is Patrick's least favorite holiday so be careful. With Daniel
it was prime `jump down your throat and lecture you in front of family'
day. I've got shit to do but your right, that jackass isn't worth my
shop. Text me Harris's number later."

"I will Abs and thanks."

I hung up with her and plated the French toast for dad as he needed it
more. He just gave me a `spill it' look.

"How's the new horses dad?"

"They aren't out of the woods yet but getting there. Vet's already come and
gone this morning. Farrier is due about noon. Faye and meg are with
them. Now spill it."

I exhaled and told him everything Patrick had been going through, that vein
in dad's forehead seemed to turn a bit redder with each incident and each
new thing I had learned plus knowing how abuse was we both knew the
signs. Patrick's skittishness, his fear of disappointing, of not being man
enough. Daniel may not have ever hit him, but he had certainly worked hard
to break him down.

"Logan, you see that man at campus call security immediately and get
yourself and Patrick away. Don't go getting arrested. I don't want either
of you getting hurt or having that on your records. Now, what are your
plans this morning?"

We would talk a little longer before dad had to go back to the
stables. Patrick stumbled out half-dressed not long after and I presented
him with a fresh plate of French toast and bacon which he silently devoured
while I told him what Ab's had said.

"Guess I forgot that detail. Thanks Logan. So, what are we doing this
morning? Unless I slept the day away?"

"We, Lover, are going to go play in the woods. Knee high riding boots,
gloves, long sleeves, and jeans. I don't think there is any poison ivy out
there, but I would rather neither of us found out. Dad said we can look for
nan's shop, but we have to be careful and if the floors soft we are to stay
out of the building. It hasn't been used in fifteen or so years really but
just had a new roof on before she passed."

Patrick was giving me one of `those' looks of his. I had just gone into
unknown territory with him again. He really was sheltered sometimes but I
did not mind being the one to teach him things.

"Which part?"

"Huh?"

"Which part did I lose you on Pat? You kind of got this doggish tilt headed
thing going on when I lose you."

"All I know about poison ivy is shiny leaves of three? I think, and how is
a floor soft? Like carpeting?"

"Leaves of three let it be, yes. And it is often shiny but not always nor
is it always green either. But it's a vine on the ground or up tree
trunks. As for floors, well when you step on a soft floor it means the
floor is rotting and while it may -look- fine you can feel it bounce the
whole room from a single step. It feels like you may just go through the
floor. Nan's shop didn't have a cellar though so you would only fall a few
feet."

"That's comforting."

He shot me a look and finished his plate, putting it in the sink before we
headed back to my room. Once we were decked out and the back door was open
Max and Ruby came flying to meet us. I was amazed how quickly the dogs
loved up on Patrick and the fact he was not afraid of a pair of
roughhousing hundred plus pound rottweilers as well. He actually crouched
down and ruffed up their fur, getting licked in the face and loving on them
right back as their rear ends bounced back and forth trying to wag so
hard. Patrick finally stood and just looked at me.

"What's wrong Logan?"

"Not a damn thing Pat."

He gave me a lot to think about, seeing him so happy here, the way the
animals liked him instantly. It made me wonder if opening a mechanics shop
was the way to go really, or should I take this place over from dad? But
how would I keep it afloat when dad barely could? I started off for the
woods with Patrick beside me and the dogs bounding at either side of
us. More like crashing at either side of us as they plowed through and over
downed limbs, chased squirrels and weaved old fencepoles. I pointed out the
`back woods' pasture where an old concrete horse stood guard, age having
taken its ears and worn the details away.

"Nan's made that, it was of her first horse when she was a girl, things
gotta be almost fifty years old by now."

"Wow. How old do horses usually get anyhow?"

"I've heard of some living until they are forty but that's really old, most
are usually twenties to mid-thirties but if I recall there was one who
lived to be just over fifty."

I could not help the grin at his astounded expression. For some reason it
seemed a lot of people only thought horses lived to be ten to fifteen years
old.  I paid attention again to the trail we had found, it was overgrown
but there was still a rutted road to follow. I did point out a clump of
poison ivy and we managed to get the dogs to go around it rather than
through it. Not that it would hurt the dogs, but I'd rather not pet them
afterwards. Soon enough the old brick building appeared, the windows seemed
intact though the paint was flaking off in chunks. The bricks were
overgrown with mosses and lichen. A few saplings had taken root in the
gutters as well, though one gutter hung off the front and bent to the
ground thanks to a fallen tree branch. I had the key dad had scrounged up
for me and as the front porch and steps were stone that much was safe
enough.

"Here we are Patrick, Nan's shop. And if you like, dad said you can have or
use anything from it, the shop included though obviously it would need
repairs."