Blondie wouldn’t be stopped. He hoisted me over the fences, chanting, “Just let me get you warm, big man.”
He pulled some high-tech shit on the bronze locks of the double doors, making me wonder why he hadn’t done the same on the gates instead of heaving me over.
Forty thousand and some odd hectares of former Fort Knox land had been left to Mother Nature after the mass destruction of the Purge, yet the interior of the last intact building—the Gold Depository—was Company clean. This one building, which had safe-housed the first of the Company’s bullion and the last of the former United States of America, sat pristine and polished like a lopped-off pyramid amid a scavenged wasteland.
All but a few halos were turned off, and those few stabbed my body just the same as the deep brown of his eyes—soft, teasing, and laughing—until they’d become mere slits at the end.
The half-light of the stormy night shaded into the stronghold, lending to its eery atmosphere. I had my own specter keeping me company in the empty tomb.
The rain pounded outside.
Echoes of our boots resonated on marble floors, then silenced.
My heart rate resumed, raced. The way it had with the bass music my last time at the Amphitheater, my first time with Blondie.
I found a corner and sat, shuddering from cold and adrenaline, memories and fear.
A fireplace would have been handy, but I figured there wasn’t one. That didn’t stop Blondie as he went to work on a stack of Territory newspapers piled on a lone titanium desk. The broadsheets were from before the world went completely digitized. They were crumbling, unread, out of place.
I focused on the innocuous details: Blondie busting the dry slats of a wooden chair across his knee. The way he huffed his hair out of his eyes, eyes that searched for me.
Clapping his hands together, he bounced on his heels and tried to strike a light. “Gonna get you warm, Caspar.”
I tried to ignore the pain driving me down with the same piercing pressure as the sleet outside until my neck was squished into the corner and my knees were at my chest.
I couldn’t get warm.
I’d never get warm.
On the desk, newspaper relics curled in on themselves. I hadn’t seen a broadsheet for such a long time; they’d been banned since the Plague. Lunging for one, I pulled it across my lap, tail ends of phrases coming away in my hands. Plague! Viral contagion. Stay inside. Breeders unite!
Rubbing my hand over pages, underlining hateful words, I concentrated on the black mark of ink on my palm and the pads of my fingers spreading to join the stain in my soul.
Blondie blew into the fire he built in the middle of the barren floor, the stigma spreading—sparks, ash, scattered words. When the newspapers burst into flame, a batch of burning headlines caught my eyes: Thousands Dead. Don’t Be One of Them. Embrace the Straight.
I’d represented all of that knowing I was not a single part convinced, simply because I was weak enough to need some semblance of family after mine died. My stomach churned. The only thing to force down was my empty gut, and I kept swallowing the burning acid.
Blondie wisped his fingertips over my face and hauled me onto his lap. “What’s goin’ on?”
My throat was dry. “You said your Leon.”
“Did I? I don’t recall.”
“That day, when Leon was taken to the brig in Alpha, right after I was assigned to you, that’s when you said it.”
“It’s just a figure of speech. I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.” He turned a confused expression on me.
The slush of foul weather outside and the fire hissing at our feet were the only sounds around us until I made myself speak. “What you said, what you implied was belonging with someone, caring for someone. Before you, I’d spent too much time alone, making sure none of that shit happened to me again.” The fort surrounding us made all the memories rush back at me. “I was in Epsilon, at a training camp. I’d never wanted to return to that Territory. In my head, Erica lived on, but once there I couldn’t escape the fact she was dead. Then I met someone.”
His jaw tightened; the comforting caress of his hands up and down my arms ceased.
“I never had Leon, never wanted him that way. He wasn’t mine, but Alejandro was.”
Blondie dipped his eyes, but not before I saw the pain scuttling across the deep blue of his irises. “Alejandro?”
The possessive, painful feelings dredged up from my past bore down on me. “My Alejandro. My lover. My first love.”
He took his hands from me, first from my shoulders, then from my chest where breaths cranked out of me. His hands slipping down my thighs, he stood up and withdrew to the opposite wall. A look of twisted hurt made mealtime of his handsome face.
“You wanted to know this,” I said.
He shook his head, planting his feet in front of himself. His hair streamed wetly down to his shoulders, his big body steaming from the fierce fire beside him. “Don’t think I do anymore.”
I wouldn’t be shut down. “Alejandro was beautiful and brave in a way I’d never seen. He had no allegiance. Not him.” I spared a look at Blondie. I wished I hadn’t. He looked as sick as I felt.
Yet I couldn’t stop my smile. “He wasn’t a Corpsman. He had ties only to himself and then me. He was half rebel, half Freelander, and completely mine.”
“Caspar, please don’t—”
I couldn’t stop my confession, no matter his plea. “I met him during my off time. He lived on the edge of poverty, same as Leon and Evangeline. But hardship didn’t touch him. He was tall, true, and hard bargaining. I’d been in need of a pick-me-up.” I curled my fist in a stroking motion. “My hand wasn’t cutting it anymore. I just went trawling for a toy, a cock sleeve or something. Hell, I didn’t know. It was my first time going to one of those gigs. I never imagined I’d come away with a man.” I chuckled. “He overheard me haggling and stopped me from taking out my money, saying, ‘Think we can get you something better than that, Papi?’
“One look and I was a goner. His eyes dark brown, his skin deeply tanned, he damn near glowed. I was a couple years older, but when he invited me back to his place, I felt so fucking unschooled.
“It was a squat, pretty much like mine but overflowing with stuff. Every corner, every table piled with crap—and a lot of damn tables. I was always knocking into one of them, making a mess of his collections of old photographs and his formations of film canisters and ancient cameras. He’d always grin and say, ‘No mas.’
“A photographer, he used cameras going by the names of Pentax and—he really laughed when he showed me these others—Canon. His thing wasn’t landscapes but men. Pornography, the Company labeled his artwork. That first day he kissed me stupid, then asked to take my picture—not to sell, but to keep. I was so fucking into him, I said yes. Being with Alejandro, naked while he snapped my shots, was one of the most erotic experiences of my life.”
I closed my eyes but didn’t miss Blondie’s agitated groan. I wouldn’t torture him. I wouldn’t tell him all of it. I thought of lying with Alejandro in my arms, his short black hair silky against my chest, his head always resting over my heart so when he talked to me in low Spanish words, they were imparted on my skin, seeping into my spirit.
“Man, I was such a fucking romantic with him.” A short laugh escaped me. “Sappy as hell.” The time I made him stay still for hours so I could map his body, his muscles, his scent like those spices, Blondie’s spices. When I was done loving him, I’d washed and covered him carefully before bringing us the forbidden street food he loved, little cakes called magdalenas, empanadas, olives, tapas of all kinds. I fed him one by one.
Rubbing my hand down my face, I stayed in that memory, just for a minute. It was better than the ones to come. “We laughed so much, pretending the risk to our lives didn’t exist. We loved so hard. He called me dulce.” I’d blushed all the way to my hairline when he told me what that meant; for him I was sweet.
I risked a glance at Blondie. He was rigid, his lips clamped together, breathing fast through his nostrils. “We wanted more. I wanted more. I was green back then. It’s unbelievable, the shit I pulled to see him, how fast I fell in love with Alejandro.”
At Blondie’s choking noise, I threw out my hand. “Come here.”
“No.” He backed further against the wall. “No. I’m all right, Caspar. It’s okay.”
Obviously it wasn’t fucking hunky-dory, but I couldn’t stop the onslaught. “I had more freedom of movement in those days. For almost a year and a half, I took every detail I could to Epsilon; Command helpfully chalked it up to administrative closure with my family’s deaths. It wasn’t ideal, seeing him only every few months, and we didn’t dare communicate by any other means. Shit. I was pretty sure I’d go knocking on his door one day and he’d be gone.” I shook my head, a head swarming with happy memories.
“He was always waiting.” His bronzed skin, his bright smile, his arms around me as soon as the door shut. “He wasn’t perfect, though, not by a long shot. Some of the stunts he pulled plain pissed me off. Like taking a gamble with his life every time he did his illegal wheeling and dealing. Not that he had a choice. No way was he Corps or CO material.”
I pushed a finger against the grin working at my lips. “The other things, they were irritating but so endearing. All his goddamn crap, all over his tiny two-roomer. You know how I like my shit, Nathaniel.”
His head popped up when his given name slipped through my lips. Rocking forward, he nearly reached out to me, nodding. “Neat. Spare. Tidy.”
Yeah, he knows me.
“Alejandro was anything but. Dishes, pictures, books, up to my eyeballs, his rooms full of so much stuff that one time I just blew. Alejandro came right back at me. Man, he had a hot temper. ‘What you wan’ me to do? Throw eet out? Like thees’ He started to rip through a photograph, and I just laughed and stopped him. All it took was one touch to cool his anger, to heat him in another way.
“I was being careful. Yeah.” I snorted. “I’m still trying to convince myself of that one. It didn’t ring true then, and it sure as hell doesn’t now.” My voice grew harsh. “Just because I wore civilian clothes so I wouldn’t be recognized, what the fuck kind of half-assed precaution was that? Someone caught on. Two men spending a lot of alone time hit a homophobic radar. Probably should’ve been thankful it hadn’t happened sooner.”
His lips pursed, Blondie’s face leeched of all color.
“Mi corazón, Alejandro called me.” On my heels in front of Blondie, I gave it all up. “The hard rap on his door was so loud, he pushed me off his lap. He punched me, mouthing, ‘Get the fuck out, malparido!’
“Not corazón, not his heart, but malparido, bastard.” I retched on the huge dry sobs clogging my throat. “He threw me out the back door. Cholo. Gringo.”
Blondie squatted down with me. “You don’t have to say it, honey.”
“Yeah, I do.” My heart was breaking, but I had to get it all out. “I hid across the street. He was taken into custody, cursing all the way, earning Christ only knows what torture for his hot Spanish temper. I should never have left him! I should’ve given myself up.”
I punched the wall until the skin on my knuckles broke and blood joined the stains inside me, fighting off Blondie’s arms. “No one’s ever taking the fall for me again. No one.”
That tic in Blondie’s jaw twitched like he was about to argue with me. I shouldn’t have let Alejandro do it, and no way hell would I ever let Blondie. A man could live with only so many hateful regrets.
I cut him off before he could even start. “I don’t know what they did to him. I only knew what was gonna happen when I saw it on my D-P the next morning.” Gripping Blondie’s face in my hands, I asked, “Don’t you see? He turned himself in. For me!
“This place”—I slashed through the air—“out there.” I pointed beyond the walls to the courtyard. “Those spotlights and speakers and the setup. It’s exactly like the Quad in Epsilon Territory.”
He pushed himself right against me, taking me in his arms. “Stop. Please stop, Caspar.”
“I can’t. I can’t. Not until it’s over.” I shivered inside my clothes, wishing there was enough heat to reach my bones, to deliver me from this pain. “When the curfew was lifted, hundreds of people crushed into the square, hungry for a spectacle, anything to break up the daily grind. Street vendors brought their wares and fare; there was the stink of meat and the smell of too many bodies. It was downright festive like the CO meant it to be.”
I still tasted the stench behind my teeth. “Sensationalism at its best, right? The big wide-screen D-Ps panning the mob, focusing on raised fists and shouting mouths.”
Blondie brought me between his legs, holding me close.
“Yeah, they wanted to make an example of him. They did it well. Alejandro was marched through the throng, and at one point he was so close I could’ve touched him.” Openly crying, I dug around for my voice. “I could’ve touched him one last time.”
Next to me, Blondie cursed, quiet and fierce.
“He forewent the trial. For me. I will not be put in that spot again, so don’t you goddamn ask me to love you. Don’t protect me. Stupid fucking—” Heaving into Blondie’s neck, I bit out, “Alejandro. Before they covered his face in the black hood, his goddamn beautiful face, his eyes found mine, his mouth moved. ‘Caspar, te amo, mi corazón.’”
Blondie’s face was stormy as the night outside. I figured I looked the same, with a healthy dose of guilt mixed in. The kind that always kept me company.
“When the countdown began—a countdown for fuck’s sake—the whole crowd chimed in. The speakers weren’t even necessary because everyone was just so fucking keen to see him do the hanging dance.” The words were forced from me, heinous things hollowing me out, leaving me the shell I’d been before I started this journey with Blondie.
“His nose covered, finally his lips. His head held so high.” Tears wet my face. “The last thing I did for Alejandro was bear witness to his execution.”
I’d watched his murder until his feet stopped twitching. Until he stilled, his voice never to be heard again, his heart no longer beating in time with mine. Trembling all over, I put the lid back on all the visions that had made my sleep a recipe for night terrors unless I was wrapped around Blondie.
Some cruelties couldn’t bear the light of day.
Drops of sleet had melted on Blondie’s face, glistening in his stubble, reflecting the orange firelight. But his eyes held no life. They were bleak blue stones. He was gonna talk, and I didn’t want to hear it, whatever he had to say. Not yet.
“He’s the reason I opted out of life. Want to know the most fucked-up thing? Alejandro would’ve loved the commune, man. That was his scene. He should’ve been there, not me. He’s the reason I started getting it.”
His hand slid up my arm to my shoulder; his fingertips ghosted my chin and fell away. “He must’ve been a good man for you to love him so much.” He struggled, his face torqued in torment. “I…ah, damn it all. I envy your love for him.”
I studied my palms, the smearing black ink surface damage only. I took a hit of air, then another. The dark blemish in my heart lifted, taking with it the hidden scars that had numbed my emotions for so long. I felt lighter for telling someone about Alejandro, for letting go of our brutal fate, for remembering the moments when we were so right together.
I drew Blondie to me, my arm around his back. His shoulders shook, his whole body was quaking. “Hey.”
He didn’t respond, his face turned in the opposite direction.
“Hey, baby.” I touched his cheek.
He jerked away.
“Nathaniel, what’s wrong?”
He staggered to his feet. Face red, he admitted, “Jesus Christ, Caspar. You still love him.” He raked his hair forward. “That’s why you couldn’t say it to me the other night. You love Alejandro.”
With his hair pulled over his face, he tried to close a curtain between me and his emotions.
Not gonna happen, baby.
I laughed in a way I’d forgotten. Loud and from my stomach that was suddenly unknotted. “You’re really a stupid shit sometimes, aren’t you?”
He sputtered, “Cannon—”
Stalking forward, I was filled with intent. “Caspar. My name’s Caspar.”
The kiss I gave him shot straight to my toes and right through the roof of my head. Deep into his mouth, my tongue was all over his. I tried not to whine when he slicked the insides of my lips.
He pushed me back, pivoting away.
Like that was gonna put me off. His heartbeat sped beneath my forearms crossing over his chest from behind. His damp tendrils brushing my neck, I sniffed at his throat, licked a throbbing vein. “’Course I love him. I always will.” Still as a tree caught in that breathless moment between standing and falling, he made no noise. “He taught me to love.”
His attempts to wrangle away stopped when I nuzzled his jaw. “Losing him, that’s why I couldn’t feel anymore. That’s why I didn’t want to love you.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t. You know, you’re not as smart as you think.”
Swiveling in my arms, his eyelashes swept across flushed cheeks. “Caspar…”
I pulled his hand to my heart, where the beats thundered for him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t love another. I love you, Nathaniel.”
He froze for maybe an instant, but it felt like hours. Maybe I’d misheard him the other night. Was I a fling to him? Had I gotten this all messed up in my head? Aw shit. “Think you could say something here?”
His lips were parted, his hair messy, his expression challenging.
Here we go.
I grinned.
“You just told me not to ask you to love me, you fuck.”
“Yeah, I’m not so good with words.” I uncurled his fingers from the fist balled at his hip. “Not real good with emotions, either.” I pulled; he pulled away harder.
So not happening.
He strained from me. “You’re just figuring that out?”
I kissed the corner of his lips. “Nah. Just thought you should know, babe.”
He yanked again to free his hand. “What are ya’ sayin’?”
I’m not going anywhere, baby.
“I might be a big dumb asshole.” I shrugged when he muttered something that sounded like agreement under his breath. “But I love you, Nathaniel. Blondie. And I’m pretty sure you love me, too.” When he opened that luscious mouth again, it was to bend down and slam it onto mine. His kiss was better than words. Breaking away for a second, he skipped his lips to my ear. “I never thought I’d hear you say that, Caspar.”
“Get used to it.”
That quiet unsure interlude lasted another few seconds, and then we were all about the kissing. Wild kisses where our noses bumped, our teeth scraped against tongues, and our mouths bruised. Blinded by those intense kisses and his intimate moans, I thrust my hands between us and scrabbled with the button of my pants.
The wet cloth was a bitch to work with. Stuck to my groin, suctioned onto my thighs.
Elegantly stripping down in front of me, he raised an eyebrow as I hopped on one foot. “Need a hand there, big man?”
“Fuck you.” My boots banged against the wall when I threw them, echoing across the empty room.
“Please do.”
I couldn’t get at him fast enough. Tackling him to the floor, I strained above him, so erect my cock danced against his in midair.
“I’m gonna make love to you, Blondie.”
“Oh, are ya?” That damned arched eyebrow of his daring me.
“Damn right,” I growled, rolling him onto his hands and knees.
He moved so sensually, his ass raised in my hands, my cock dividing his tight buttocks and running along the seam. I drew my hand up the musculature of his back, rubbing his shoulders, using them for leverage while I rode outside on the crease of his ass.
I needed lube, wanted him sleek and ready, and to hear that wet slurp when I entered him. With a kiss to his spine, I whispered, “Just getting us wet, sweetheart.”
“Mmm,” he hummed, my fingertip dipping inside.
Adding more drops, I massaged my fingers together inside him and gasped when he squeezed around me. “So good, baby. You’re gonna take me so good tonight.”
Sucking in a breath when I massaged his swollen gland, he exhaled with a hiss, “Yes, I’m ready for you.”
“Yeah, you are.” I breathed into his ear. “But I gotta make this hard cock nice and slick for you.”
“Fuck.”
“Soon. And once I start, I’m not gonna stop.” I smiled while he squirmed beneath me, making sure he heard the cap opening and the slippery sounds of me jerking off behind him, my harsh breaths on his neck.
He arched below me and I patted his ass with my cock. I leaned over and interlaced our fingers. “I’m right here with you, babe.”
“Okay,” he rasped.
Not good enough.
I flipped him onto his back and cupped his face. “Nathaniel, I am right here, only with you.” I watched his eyes as they opened and blinked slowly. “Every time we’ve been together, it’s been you.”
His hands wandered from my hair to my ass to my thighs; then he opened the taut curves of his bottom to me.
Teasing his rosy star with the crown of my cock, I vowed, “I love you, Nathaniel fucking Blondie Rice.”
He rose to capture my lips. “You say the sweetest things.”
I slapped his sweet ass. “Now you say it.”
“Already did.” He smirked.
Painting his ass in precome and wedging a finger deep inside, I demanded, “Again. Before I make love to you.”
“Ahhh, I love you, Caspar! You cocky motherfucker.”
I took my time reacquainting myself inside his warm clasp. “So tight, babe. Gonna have my tongue inside you tonight, too.”
Fully sheathed, I stopped. His was a burning grip surrounding my dick and making my nads tingle. With every thrust, I bit him lightly. Nipping his shoulder, his wide ribs, the underside of his biceps. I pinched his nipples and his hole seized around me.
I thrust to the hilt, circling my hips inside his warmth, waiting for his welcome gasp before pulling out all the way. Watching his bottom close, I opened it again, spellbound by the sight of him spreading around the head of my cock and sucking me in. Over and over again until my preejaculate squished in his ass and foamed at my base and a sheen of sweat covered our muscles.
He was shaking and gritting his teeth, thrashing with each thrust. “Feel so good like this.”
Lowering until I was completely on top of him, I held his head off the floor and kissed him with slow, soft tastes. “You make me good.”
Faster, harder, I drove him across the floor until he braced his hands against the wall, shoving back onto my cock and wrenching grunts from me. His gorgeous dick rammed into my stomach every time his ass hit my hips. His pubes rasped my groin, and mine scoured his full pink balls.
“You gonna come like this?” I spoke in a rumble that came from so deep within me.
He didn’t answer, frantically forcing his body up to mine. I slowed down.
“Ahh, Jesus! Don’t stop. Faster. Fuck me fast, honey!”
I pounded into him and held still. “Answer me.”
“Yes!” That affirmative led to a litany of others when I resumed a furious pace. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I found his mouth and sucked on his lips. His shaft grew, his testicles compacting, and I followed suit, my orgasm called by his. Eruptions of come coiled between us. We were sticky all over with seed and sweat. After I licked him clean, he kissed me, making his body the bed I fell asleep on, his arms and legs the blanket keeping me warm.
Sometime during the night the sleet tapered off and with its diminishing patters we stopped worrying. We started feeling safe for the first time since we’d left Chitamauga. We talked in whispers about our future but not how we were gonna make it happen. We traded hopes about how our lives were going to be when we returned to the commune, with friends and family. I didn’t believe it for a second, but I could do that make-believe thing, for one night, for him.
“After I find Liz.”
“After we find Liz.” He pulled me into a sleepy embrace.