by Emrys Apollo
COMING HOME
Lucas Wendell is trying to focus on something else, trying to grip his own soul and haul it out to some old memory, tainted by time and gone sour since but still clear-an image of his life before.
But he's here, in this life in this dank room. “Take it, come on,” someone mumbles, yanking Lucas’ head up a bit. “Take it like a good boy.”
Finally the man is stumbling back, yanking his pants up with one hand. He moves across the room to grab a beer, his belt rattling. Lucas cracks his jaw and wipes his mouth, thinks about being anywhere, anywhere else.
***
Roy sits in the main room on one of the red leather couches, flipping through a book of photos.
“I'm not a big fan of you having my information.”
The woman raises her chin, crossing her arms over her chest. “We have to protect our specialists, sir. We run background checks on everyone, we are a clean establishment and only allow upstanding citizens to take our people out. We want to make sure they come back.”
“I have to find the right one-” he says, but his voice cuts away when he hears a door slam down the hall to their right.
Lucas is wearing combat boots, skin-tight black jeans, a leather jacket pulled over a white t-shirt. He's holding a still-lit cigarette between his pointer finger and his thumb, and he takes a long drag as he enters the room, his eyes cutting between them.
Roy looks him up and down once as he heads over to the ashtray on the main counter, stubbing the cigarette out as his smoke wafts in the air. He starts heading towards the back hallway, and Roy seeks out the woman's eyes, a grin spreading across his face.
“Him.”
The woman’s eyes widen.
“Trick?” She looks at him with surprise.
“Yes, him.”
He slams the book closed, puts it on the couch beside him. “Final answer.” He gets up and approaches him, watches as Lucas squares off and eyes him close. “You available?”
Lucas clears his throat, eyes cutting over to the woman before he looks back at Roy again. “Guess I am.”
Roy peers over at the woman, pulling out a ledger from behind her desk. “Let's start with the weekend, see how this goes?”
“Give him an hour,” she says, scribbling something down, “and then come back around to fetch him. Friday night to Sunday evening, as of now?”
“As of now,” Roy says, nodding. He turns back towards Lucas, extending his hand. “Royce Bright.”
Lucas raises an eyebrow, a smile playing at his lips. “Trick,” he says, simply, grasping Roy's hand in his own. It's soft but he has a firm grip, and his fingers linger before they fall away.
“Trick,” Roy says, grinning still. “I’m going to find out your real name yet, Trick.”
Lucas brings his finger to his brow and gives Roy a kind of salute, starting down the back hallway. “We'll see about that.”
Roy watches him go, his hips slipping from side to side, and then follows him.
***
Sheila's got his hair piled up on top of his head and he's leaning on the doorframe, eyeing Lucas as he laces up his shoes. Penny, one of the blondes from upstairs, is laying against Lucas’ pillows and nudges him with her foot.
“You got a real high bidder this time,” she drawls, and he gets up as she's about to prod him again. “
Jack moves into the room, watches as Lucas pulls his shirt on. “You need to get a little color in those cheeks,” he says, reaching out to touch him.
“Come on, Jack,” Lucas says, knocking his hand away.
Jack looks at Penny who raises her eyebrows, giggling.
“Don't think this one is going to be like that Callister,” Jack says, moving to sit next to Penny on the bed. “Are you still seeing him?”
“Saw him today,” Lucas says, sitting back and running his hand through his hair. “This one though.”
“What was his name?” Penny asks, motioning towards him with her chin.
“Royce,” Lucas says, shaking his head. He crosses his arms over his chest. “He shook my hand.”
***
Roy's actually anxious. The car turns the corner, rolls up alongside the building just as Lucas is shutting the door. Roy heaves a sigh and gets out, walking around to meet him.
“Glad you wore the leather jacket,” Roy says, an easy smile hanging on his lips.
“Thought you liked it,” Lucas says. He slides up close, rests a hand on Roy's hip and cocks his head, his eyes tracing over Roy's lips. They linger there, and then cut up to his eyes. “Are we heading to your place?”
“Thought we might go get something to eat first,” Roy says, tilting his head the same way.
Lucas puts on an easy smile to match and nods, bending to get into the car. Roy bites his lip, following him and shutting the door.
“Where were you thinking? Something fancy?” Lucas leans his elbow on the window.
“Your pick,” Roy says. “Wherever you want.”
Lucas raises his eyebrows, and Roy nods. Lucas clears his throat and directs his attention to the driver. “Go to Aina's,” he says, a bit of a glint in his eye. “On fourth.”
***
Roy with his suits and his slick hair, his shiny shoes, Lucas was sure he would stick out like a sore thumb at the greasy burger joint. But he orders easy, sits back and fits in so well that it's almost annoying. They're sitting in a booth in the corner, and Lucas picks at the plastic peeling off the table.
“Let me try for this real name,” Roy says, taking a bite out of an onion ring.
“You want something to scream later?” Lucas says, leaning in.
“Maybe,” Roy says, grinning.
“Trick is good, for now,” Lucas says, leaning back again. “Like the way it sounds on your tongue.”
A waiter interrupts, sits down a burger in front of Roy and a milkshake in front of Lucas.
“Who are you?” Lucas asks, sticking a straw into his glass and stirring it around. “What do you do?”
“Well, like I said, Royce Bright. Roy. I own a line of hotels and that's why I'm in town, visiting one of our more profitable locations to pass on their procedures to everybody else. I’m here for a week and I wanted some company.”
“Why me?” Lucas says, popping a cherry into his mouth.
Roy grins, running his finger along the edge of his plate. “I liked the way you moved. Like hearing your voice even more now. Just like you all together. It isn’t anything complicated.”
“Mmm,” Lucas hums, sipping the vanilla. “You want more than just dinner, huh?”
“That I do,” Roy says, nodding. “But I like to do a little wine and dine, first. Or - “ he peeks at the menu. “Vodka, I guess. Whatever floats your boat.”
Lucas snorts, smirking.
***
Lucas looks even better out of his clothes than in them, skin smooth as silk as he crawls across Roy's bed, bare ass in the air. He arches his back and the light catches a few bruises on his hips, deep purple. Roy is standing at the foot of the bed, naked himself, and he narrows his eyes, tracing his hand over the darkened skin.
Lucas hisses a bit, looking over his shoulder.
“Did you fall or something?” Roy asks.
“I like it rough sometimes,” Lucas says, looking at him from under long lashes. “You’re going to take me for a ride, huh?”
“Maybe, if you drop this character for a bit.” Roy smoothes a hand up the length of his spine, back down again over the curve of his ass.
“Come on, then. Come on.” Lucas turns back towards the wall, sort of hangs his head.
Roy's eyebrows furrow and he gets up onto the bed, urges him down. “Don't want to do it like that,” Roy whispers. He runs his hand over Lucas’ stomach, the other pressing i
nto his shoulder as he turns him over onto his back.
“Missionary man, huh?” Lucas whispers.
“Just want to see your face,” Roy says. Lucas narrows his eyes but Roy doesn't see, is popping the cap off the lube and slicking his fingers up. He bows over Lucas from between his legs and slips one finger in, earning a groan in response. He ruts around, pushing in and out, and then adds another.
“What are you doing?” Lucas breathes, blinking up at him.
Roy shakes his head, still working the other man open. “This is how it's done, right? Last I checked?”
“I just…” he stops talking when Roy adds a third finger, and when he's sure Lucas is ready he pulls his hand back and lines up. He pushes in slow and listens to Lucas’ breath catch in his throat as he grapples for purchase on Roy's shoulders.
Normal guys are quick shots - they take him from behind, use him rough and dirty and half the time he's lucky if he even comes at all. They yank him around, don't even let him get out half the things he's supposed to say before they're reaching around and holding his mouth shut.
But Roy's different. Roy touches him like he knows he's got a heartbeat, knows he's living and breathing and might get something out of this too. And Lucas is electrified, every inch of him leaning into Roy's hands, Roy's touch, the way he's moving inside of him.
“Wrap your legs around my hips,” Roy says, already sweating, and when Lucas doesn't respond he reaches down and does it for him, hitching each leg up one at a time. He thrusts into him quick and deep, and Lucas gasps, arching his neck back.
“Oh,” Lucas breathes.
“You like that?” Roy whispers, still moving against him. “Feel good?”
Lucas falters for a minute, isn't used to being asked, and that simple question turns him on even more. “Don't stop,” he moans.
Roy thinks, for a second, that even though he's only known him for a couple hours, that he sounds different. The character's been abandoned, dust in the wind, and it seems like he's finally broken through the wall built up around the other man, if only for a moment. He leans down to nip at Lucas’ neck, sucks at his ear lobe and feels himself getting closer and closer with every desperate sound the other man makes.
Lucas digs his nails into Roy's skin, reaches up to grip the back of his neck as their pace quickens. His legs are locked tight around Roy's waist and he moans loud and long when he feels Roy's breath hot on his neck.
“Oh,” Roy groans. “Oh god, you feel so good.”
“Oh God - “ Lucas gasps. He clamps his eyes shut and comes harder than he remembers coming in the last couple years, sticky and warm between them.
Roy fucks him through it, deep heavy thrusts that rattle the bed frame, and he comes apart with a shout, humping sloppy as Lucas presses back into the sheets.
Lucas can't think for a moment, can't close his mouth or open his eyes, can vaguely hear Roy saying “hey, hey” but all he can feel is his heart going a mile a minute, and he's brushing against the short hair at the base of Roy's neck without even realizing it.
“You alright?” Roy asks, touching his face lightly.
“That was one damn ride,” Lucas breathes, finally opening up to look at him.
Roy's grinning down at him. He pulls out and urges Lucas into his side, and cuddles up behind him, tangling their legs up together and throwing an arm around his waist. Lucas is stiff as a board for a moment and looks around at the hotel walls, the stupid generic paintings of boats on the sea and fields full of flowers. And then he realizes, realizes as he feels Roy's lips on the back of his neck, that he was here the whole time; completely present, completely in the moment, completely unwilling to even think about being anywhere else.
He shifts away a bit, tries not to make it obvious, but Roy moves with him. “Want me to suck your dick?” Lucas mutters, not bothering to try and look at him.
Roy scoffs, and Lucas can feel him smile against his neck. “As nice as that image is,” Roy breathes, “don't think I could quite get it up. And I'm heading to sleep. You ain't tired?”
“Don't sleep much,” Lucas says, cracking his jaw.
“Well these sheets are couple thousand thread count,” Roy says. “I think you might feel the difference.” He reaches down, grasps for the blanket and pulls it over them.
Lucas feels his heart in his throat as he closes his eyes.
***
“Hey. Hey, Trick. Wake up.”
Lucas rubs his eyes and Roy comes into view. He's already dressed, business suit and all, and he smiles as he straightens back up. “Mmm,” Lucas hums, turning over onto his back. “You going somewhere?”
Roy runs a hand through his hair. “I have a string of conferences, people flying in, I’m not going to be back around till six.” He pulls his wallet out of his pocket, gathers up about seven one hundred dollar bills. He lays them down on the bedside table, patting them with his hand.
“That part of my fee?” Lucas asks, nodding toward the bills.
“No. This is just some spending money,” Roy says. “I want you to do whatever you want all day, stay here, go out, long as you come back for dinner tonight. They got this nice Italian restaurant downstairs that I want to take you to.” He fishes a key out of his pocket, sits it down on top of the money. “This is a key to the room. Remember, we're in the penthouse suite. You have to use that key in the elevator to even get up here.”
Lucas sits up a bit, leaning on his elbows. “You’re not worried about leaving me here?”
“No,” Roy says, heading around to the other side of the bed. “Only worried about you missing me too much.” He grins when he says it, watching Lucas’ face.
Lucas snorts, reaching down to scratch an itch on his hip through the sheets. “You want a quick one before you go?”
“I wish,” Roy says, picking up his briefcase. “I'm already late.” He sits Lucas’ jeans on the side of the bed and opens the door.
“Have fun,” Roy calls to Lucas, nodding his head. “Just make sure you're back here by six.”
“Alright,” Lucas calls.
A woman who introduces herself as Tania, Roy’s assistant, leads him to the car.
***
He feels very out of place walking these streets in his leather jacket and ripped jeans. He knows he brought extra clothes, but nothing he has looks like these polo shirts and pleated pants and business suits.
He steps into a car dealership and roams around a red corvette, taking in the sleek style of it. He hasn't ever seen one in real life, especially one this color, and as he's reaching out to touch it a salesman approaches him.
“Would be paying in cash, would we?” he asks, raising his chin.
“Excuse me?” Lucas says, not bothering to look at him.
“We prefer to have patrons who are willing to buy,” the man says quickly.
“Oh, I'm willing,” Lucas says, reaching out to finger the door handle before the salesman clears his throat.
“Able. Able to buy.”
Lucas looks over at him, at his stiff collar and upturned nose. He sighs, doesn't even get to touch the car, let alone sit in it, and he heads towards the exit.
He passes a jewelry store that he doesn't even bother venturing into. He only stands outside and looks through the display windows; a sapphire that's worth more than he could make in three years, even if he let Callister push him around to his heart's content every single day. He catches sight of a watch, silver with blue-green hands, and it's more than seven hundred dollars but he stares at it all the same. He wonders how quick some of the others would try to steal it if he ever brought something like that home.
The money burns a hole in his pocket and he's almost afraid to spend it. He only treats himself to lunch, filet mignon that he takes in a to-go box and eats on the stairs across the street with a plastic knife and fork.
He realizes he's lost about an hour after he eats, doesn't recognize any of the street names or any of the fancy clothing shops. He doesn't know Roy's number,
doesn't even remember the name of the hotel, and he's just about to sit down on the curb with his head in his hands when a car speeds around the corner and stops right alongside him.
The window rolls down and Tania's behind the wheel. She tips her sunglasses up into her hair and her lips twitch up at the corners as she looks at him, raising her eyebrows. “You ready to head back?”
Lucas braces his hands on his lips, chuckling a bit. “Were you following me?”
“No,” she says. “Just thought you might need a ride back.”
“Well you thought right,” Lucas says, getting into the car.
***
Lucas gets a shower when they get back to the penthouse, and when he gets back out Tania has a suit laid out for him on the bed.
“Cashmere pinstripe,” Tania says. She's folding more clothes , loading them into Lucas’ suitcase. “Roy wanted you to have something nice.”
Lucas takes the sleeve between his fingers, feels the fabric. It's soft to the touch, a deep purple between the white stripes. He looks up at Tania, unable to hide his shock for a moment. “He wants me to wear this?”
“You don't like it?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowed.
“No, I do - “ he fingers one of the buttons, tilting his head to the side.
“It'll look good, I'm sure. Go on, put it on. I'm sure he's on his way.”
Lucas picks the suit up by the hanger, walks it into the bathroom. He shuts the door, lets his towel fall to the ground. He pulls the pants on, buttons up the white shirt, pulls the jacket over his shoulders. He paces around in the bathroom, his bare feet padding on the tile, and finally he peers up at himself in the mirror. He stares for a minute, tries to fix his posture, tries to hold his chin a little higher. He smooths his hair down, cocks his head to the side, like he's looking into a different life, where he stepped left instead of right, gained instead of lost. He draws in a breath and he goes back out into the bedroom.
“I don't have any shoes...” he says, coming to stand awkward in front of her.
A grin spreads across her face and she stands up, approaching him. She slides her hand up and down his arms, and turns around to pull a purple tie out of a bag. “He's going to be very happy with you. And I've got you shoes.”