Special Needs by K.A. Merikan

really wanted to make up for the way he acted earlier that day. Liam deserved it.
    He wheeled back into his room and looked around to check if everything looked decent. The sad thing was that he couldn’t think of anything he could possibly give Liam as a peace offering. The sound of heavy footsteps on the staircase made Ryan jumpy, and he was relieved to hear a knock on the door.
    When Liam entered the room, he was shirtless and barefoot, still in his beach shorts. His sandy hair was falling around his face in thick, wet strands, and it was hard not to stare at the biomechanical tattoos on his pecs. He gave Ryan a polite smile and held the door for him. His usual playfulness was gone. It was making Ryan more than uncomfortable.
    “I saw you there on the beach and sort of... wished I was there. Let's just go to the pier, and we can chat.” He wheeled out into the corridor, followed by a sigh that made him cringe.
    “Yeah, let’s do that,” muttered Liam.
    Ryan swallowed, suddenly overcome by the feeling that it had been a horrible idea. “You can go back surfing if you want. I’ll just sit around on the pier. That’s no problem,” he blurted out, daring to look up at Liam, whose face was painfully neutral. Ryan forced himself to take a deep breath and held out his hands towards the other man.
    Liam picked him up without a word, but didn't try to shake or tickle him as he often did, settling on a firm hold.
    “Do you want a snack?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence.
    “No, thanks.” Ryan was tensing up with every second, to the point when even the joints of his immobilized legs felt uncomfortable. How was he supposed to start this conversation? Fuck. Being so close to Liam got his stomach fluttering, and he let his head drop to his shoulder, breathing in the intoxicating concoction of Liam and the salty ocean breeze, still so fresh on the naked skin. His belly knotted as he took in the heat radiating from that strong body, eyes fixing on the stubbly jaw line. Liam was never completely smooth, he claimed his skin was too sensitive for a close shave. Ryan would gladly soothe it with his tongue, tasting the salt and spice straight from the other man's neck and cheek. But of course, he didn’t.
    Several minutes later, when they strolled down the flat, wheel-chair accessible track to the pier, the overall mood hadn't gotten any better. Liam walked by his side, hands deep in his pockets until they reached the short pier. It even had a railing to prevent a wheelchair from falling into the water and usually, coming here had a calming effect on Ryan's nerves. Not today though. The uncomfortable silence was gnawing at his insides like a hungering parasite. Liam leaned over the railing and opened a crumpled pack of smokes. He took out a cigarette, along with a thin lighter and soon, the salty breeze mingled with bitter fumes of tobacco. If Ryan didn’t know any better, he’d assume it was Liam’s equivalent of showing him the middle finger.
    “Sooo...” Ryan cleared his throat, watching the quiet water below the pier. “I thought... maybe we should talk a bit about today.” It took a lot of effort to come up with even this useless conversation starter.
    “It wasn’t a mistake.” Liam inhaled some smoke and closed his eyes for a moment. Despite the easygoing poise, Ryan couldn't help but notice Liam's moves were more tense than usual.
    “Hm? What do you mean?” He took the chance to quickly slide his gaze up Liam’s half naked body. So many tattoos. If only he could follow the ghastly stairs on Liam's side, all the way up to a white door underneath his armpit. And those challenging words below his collar bones, ‘You will be surfed’ . Ryan wouldn't even dare to dream of them coming true.
    “That you shouldn’t make a fuss over one rejection.” Liam cocked an eyebrow at him, practically forcing air into Ryan's lungs with the stare alone.
    “I know. I threw a fit like a whiny little bitch.