About Naughty: New Legs, New Year, a Hammer story
by Sean Michael
24 pages / 5700 words
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Jeremy should be happy -- he and Simon (who first appear in the Hammer novel, Forged) had a great Christmas and are looking forward to New Year's Eve. He's got new legs, though, and he doesn't like them at all. Can Simon convince him to focus on the positive, and help him do it, too?
Sample
Jeremy looked at Evan. "I don't like them. They make
me hurt."
Evan stared right back. "They're new. They're lighter. The old
prosthetics were hurting your back."
"I don't like you." That wasn't true, exactly, but it felt good to growl
it. "Aren't we supposed to be on therapy vacation?" Christmas was only
just over. Only just.
Evan snorted. "There is never therapy vacation."
The front door opened and Simon came in along with a blast of cold air,
his arms full of bags; Jeremy would bet money the man already had ninety
percent of next year's Christmas shopping done.
"Hey, Beautiful. Tell this sorry son of a bitch to go away and bring me
my old legs back."
"No. You have to get used to the new ones, Jeremy. Doctor's orders."
"Hi, Evan." Simon smiled at the man and then gave him a wink. "You
should have come shopping with me."
"Yeah. No shit. I'm not doing this again until next year. Take these
things and bring me my old legs." He didn't want to get growly, but
shit. He knew Dr. Whitehead worried about a slipped disc or something,
but he liked the old ones. These were too light, too different, rubbing.
He didn't feel as stable.
Simon frowned. "Jeremy. Stop snapping at the poor man. You'll get used
to them. And I can keep you busy from fretting until you do." The words
were so prim, but he could see the heat in Simon's eyes.
He met Simon's eyes, eyebrow cocking. "You're supposed to be on my side.
We're supposed to go out on New Year's Eve."
"Then you have something to work toward." Simon came up to him, put a
hand on his shoulder and met his eyes head on. "You want to tell me
what's really wrong?"
"No." He tried not to sound shocked, but he was. Evan was here.
One of Simon's eyebrows went up. "Maybe later, hmm?"
"Look, Jeremy, I know you're sore. I know you'd just gotten used to the
other pair, but your back, man. You need it." Evan squeezed his
shoulder. "I'll call you tomorrow, see how you're feeling."
"I'll be sore and pissy."
Simon smiled. "He'll be sore, but not pissy."
Evan nodded. "Have a good week. If you need, I can come the day after
tomorrow..."
"I won't." He growled and spun off, heading for the kitchen and a beer.
Maybe two beers.
"Thank you for coming, Evan. He'll call if he needs you." The front door
closed and a moment later he felt Simon's eyes on him.
Jeremy finished his first beer, grabbed a second, before acknowledging
Simon's presence. "You want one?"
"No." Simon came over and touched his chest. "I want to know what's
wrong."