Page 33 of Steam

“Thank God,” he says, “because I don’t think I can make small talk with another moron this week and live with myself afterwards.”

The kid turns away again, slinking into the living room and plopping down hard onto Logan’s couch. He bends down and begins unlacing his sneakers, a pale stretch of soft-looking skin exposed between the waistband of his pants and the bottom of his shirt.

“You’d think it would be the fucking that wears on you but really, in the end, it’s all of the horrible conversation,” he says.

“Excuse me—Henry, right?” Logan says. “I’m not trying to be rude but I don’t think you’ll be staying.”

Henry rights himself and throws one arm over the back of the couch, staring at Logan over his shoulder.

“Why’s that?” he says. “Don’t tell me you paid $500 and then nut after thirty seconds, Logan.”

“No,” Logan says, frowning. “You’re just not what I’m looking for.”

Henry laughs at that, turning back and continuing to unlace his shoes.

“I beg to differ, Logan,” he says. “I’ve got what everyone in Reno’s looking for.”

“Tell Eric he can keep his money,” Logan says. “He’s still downstairs, right?”

“Yeah,” Henry says. “He stays downstairs the whole first session. For our safety.”

“Your safety isn’t gonna be an issue,” Logan says, walking around now so that he’s facing the escort. “You can head out now. I’m sure you’ll still get paid. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“No dice, Logan,” Henry says, finally kicking off the sneakers and pulling off the short black socks underneath. “You’re the most interesting person I’ve seen all week—and I’ve had a boring week.”

“You can’t just stay here,” Logan says, incredulous. “I’m telling you, I want you to leave. You’re not what I’m looking for.”

“You’d better call the cops then, Logan,” the kid says with a mean smirk.

Still at the edge of the couch, Henry strips off his shirt without unbuttoning it, blousing it out dramatically in front of him before neatly folding it and placing it on top of his shoes and socks. The kid’s like a freight train—refusing to slow down.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Logan asks.

The expanses of naked skin under Henry’s shirt are a dramatic shade of pale. He has neat, understated muscles and what seems like not an ounce of fat on his torso.

He’s a lot prettier with fewer clothes, Logan realizes in spite of his growing frustration.

“You’re a real charmer, Logan, anybody ever told you that?” Henry says, smiling up at him from the couch with a look that’s infuriatingly casual. “I can see why you ended up calling Eric instead of looking for a real date.”

“Jesus Christ,” Logan says. “Aren’t you supposed to be nice to your clients? And stop taking off your clothes. And stop saying my name every sentence.”

“What do you want me to call you then?” Henry says, smiling wider now. He sits back to regard Logan from the couch, folding his arms across his chest.

“Big man? Boss? Daddy?”

Logan rolls his eyes and crosses the room, picking up Henry’s jacket and, returning to stand in front of the couch, rudely tossing the jacket down onto him. Maybe, he thinks, being impolite is the only way he’ll get the kid to leave.

Without missing a beat, Henry stands—and for a moment, Logan thinks he’s going to put his jacket on, pick up his stuff, and be on his way. Instead, he snakes an arm around Logan’s hip and presses his smaller body up against him.

“Glad to see you’ve got a little life in there after all,” he says, his voice lower, gentle now. “Come on, Logan: I can be whatever you want me to be.”

Logan sighs as Henry squeezes against him. He’s warm, shorter than Logan. Up close, Logan can see freckles that are almost invisible in constellations across his shoulders, and his long, brown eyelashes.

“Who were you looking for when you called Eric, huh?” Henry says, his voice sickeningly sweet, one hand slipping up beneath the back hem of Logan’s shirt. The hand is confident and warm on his back. “Is he your co worker? Huh, boss?... Do you need a baby boy, daddy?”

“This is ridiculous,” Logan says, starting to pry Henry off of him. “I said you can go home—I’m not going to make a problem for you with Eric. He seemed like a reasonable guy.”

The tone shifts abruptly, Henry’s voice going electric.

---