The Ties That Bind

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The Ties That Bind Page 12

by J. L. Langley, Jet Mykles, Jet Mykles


  Mac laid a hand on Val's shoulder and squeezed. “I know you will. You're very sensible and focused on your goals. And I know you'll make the right decision."

  Val stepped out into the hallway and paused as the door clicked shut behind him.

  Mac was right. He was sensible. And most of the time he did make good decisions. As for keeping his focus, of that he wasn't so sure.

  * * * *

  "You do know I could lose my freakin’ work study if anybody finds out I did this for you.” Eddie's fingers flew over the computer keyboard as he logged in to the university's student database.

  Perched on the end of his housemate's bed, Val watched as Eddie signed on. “I swear I won't tell anyone.” He crossed his heart. “Scout's honor."

  "They don't let gay guys in the boy scouts, man."

  "I was ten."

  "You didn't know you were gay when you were ten?” Eddie squinted at the screen.

  "Did you know you were straight when you were ten?"

  "Hell, yeah. I tongue-kissed Caitlin O'Connell behind the swing set when I was six."

  "Perv."

  "I was an early bloomer. What can I say?” He hit a few more keys. “What did you say his name is?"

  "Dylan. He's a transfer.” Val leaned back on one elbow.

  Of course he knew it was wrong, checking up on Dylan like this. Not only morally and ethically wrong, but Eddie was right, they could get in a lot of legal trouble if anyone found out they'd been rummaging around in the student database. Still, Dylan was so secretive, avoiding Val's questions, never answering directly when he answered at all, not letting Val walk him home. How else was he supposed to find out about the guy? And he needed to find out, especially if he was basing his future plans on their relationship.

  Val paused. Could he even call it a relationship after so short a time?

  "What's his last name?” Eddie scrolled through the list of new students.

  "I don't know."

  Turning all the way around in his chair, Eddie looked at Val. “You've been fucking for how long now and you don't know his last name? Man, you really are a slut.” Eddie grinned. “You got a sister?"

  "Sorry, no sister.” Val sat up. “But I always thought you were kind of cute...” He winked.

  Eddie's eyes went huge and he scrunched up his face but his grin never wavered. “Oh man, you so did not just say that to me."

  Val laughed and Eddie joined him.

  "Okay,” Eddie turned back to the computer screen. “Let's find out about this guy you're so hot for.” His fingers danced over the keys. “Nobody with the first name Dylan who transferred in this semester. Where did you say he went to school before?"

  Val told him.

  "I never heard of that school. Where is it?"

  "I don't know. Can you search for it?"

  More typing. “I'm not finding anything, man. Could his last name be Dylan? You know, like Bob?"

  "Maybe."

  Val fought down his growing apprehension. He knew Dylan was a student. They had a class together. Just because they couldn't find him in the database...

  "There's nobody in the freshman class with the last name Dylan. Let me try the sophomores.” They sat in silence, the only sound the tapping of keys. “Dude, I'm not finding anything. Is he maybe an upper classman? Do you know his major? What dorm he's in? Anything like that?"

  "He's undeclared. I don't know what dorm he lives in."

  Or even if he lives in the dorm at all.

  "What class did you say you have with him?"

  "Gods and Monsters. It's a lit class."

  There was more typing then silence.

  "Huh."

  "What?” Val leaned forward and peered at the screen over Eddie's shoulder.

  "I can't get into the class list. I keep getting an error. That's really weird.” He twisted around in his seat. “I can try again later, if you want. But for right now I don't think I can help you, man."

  "Would you? Try again later, I mean?” Val got to his feet.

  Shoving back his chair, Eddie stood too. “Sure. It's probably just some glitch in the system. It would also help if you could get a little bit more information. A last name, a major, a dorm."

  "Yeah. Okay. I'll see what I can do."

  "Dude, you know you really should be more...” He made some vague gesture with his hand.

  "Selective?” Val suggested.

  "No. Not selective. Just maybe you should know the guy a little better before—"

  "Thanks, mom.” Val grinned. “I'll try to be less slutty in the future."

  In his room, Val got his books together and shoved them in his backpack. He would go to the library and work for a few hours, maybe get a jump on his reading or work on his thesis. Yeah, that's what he would do.

  But his feet didn't take him to the library. Instead Val found himself standing in front of the building that housed the classics department. Since evening classes were still in session, the building was brightly lit and students milled around or sat quietly studying in the various alcoves designed for that purpose.

  Val pulled out his student ID and showed it to the girl at the desk. She glanced at it and nodded.

  "Have a good evening."

  "You too.” Val stuffed the ID back in his pocket and hurried down the hall. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and made it to the classics department without seeing anyone he knew.

  The door to Mac's office was closed, as he'd expected. Even though he knew Mac was in class at that hour, and would probably remain there for several hours more, Val knocked anyway. No answer.

  Heart pounding, he reached into his pocket and took out the key Mac had given him at the beginning of the prior semester when they'd started working together on the translation.

  "This way,” Mac had said, “you can drop off assignments without me having to be here. And you'll also have access to my personal reference books."

  Of course this was strictly against university policy and the administration would have a fit if they ever found out. So he and Mac had agreed to keep the key as their own little secret.

  Val fitted the key into the lock and tried to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was betraying Mac's trust by letting himself in when he had no business here. The act was inexcusable. But he had to know. As he pushed open the door, Val promised himself that he would be quick and he wouldn't look at anything but the class list for Gods and Monsters, and once done, he would get the hell out of there. And he would never do anything like this again.

  Inside the office was dark, the only light came from the streetlights; thin bars of illumination that slanted through the nearly closed blinds.

  Val walked to the desk and opened the top drawer where he knew Mac kept his attendance folders, one for day classes and one for evening. Removing the day folder, he set it on the desk and flipped it open.

  "You won't find me in there, Valentine."

  Val yelped and stumbled backward, nearly falling over the desk chair. It tumbled back with a crash, wheels spinning in the air.

  Dylan stood in front of the desk, face half illuminated and half in shadow. He reached across the surface and closed the folder, the expression in his beautiful eyes unspeakably sad.

  Val pressed a hand to his racing heart. “What the hell are you doing in here?"

  "I guess I could ask you the same question.” Reaching across the desk, Dylan picked up the folder.

  "Hey, give me that. You're not supposed to be looking at that."

  "Oh, you mean like you are?” He tossed the folder back onto the desk. “Why did you have to do it, Val? Why couldn't you just..."

  "I don't know what you're talking about.” Because he didn't want to look into Dylan's eyes any longer, Val turned and righted the desk chair.

  "C'mon, Valentine, we both know you came in here to check up on me, to try to find out more about me. Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone?"

  Shit.

  How had
he known? And what was the point in denying it anyway? Not that he'd wanted a confrontation, but at least now he might get some answers.

  "I don't know anything about you, Dylan. Hell, I don't even know if that's your real name. And how the fuck did you get in here anyway?"

  Dylan laughed. “You're really something. Of all the questions you have, how did I get in here is the first thing you ask me? Of course, not everyone gets a key to their prof's office, so I guess it's a valid question. What do you think Mac would say if he knew you came here and went through his desk?"

  Val felt his cheeks go hot. “I hope he won't find out.” He glanced at the closed door. “We better get out of here before—"

  "Relax. He won't be back for a while yet. We have some time to talk."

  "How do you know?"

  "We'll get to that. Why don't you start with asking me my real name?"

  "So Dylan's not your real name.” Val's heart sank. “Why'd you lie to me?"

  "I never lied to you, Valentine. You called me Dylan. I just let it go. People have called me a lot of things over the years. Dylan's as good as any. So it wasn't technically a lie.” He propped one hip on the corner of the desk. “What else?"

  "Who the fuck are you then?"

  "I'm Eros."

  "Excuse me?"

  "C'mon, man, you're a classicist. Eros. God of love between men. Born out of chaos. Maker of matches for mortals and immortals alike. You know, Eros."

  "Nice try, dude. And a pretty creative line, too.” Val laughed. He had to, the whole thing was just too absurd to do otherwise. “Are you sure you're not a classics major? Oh wait, I forgot, you're not even a student here. You're just some—"

  "I told you, I'm fucking Eros.” He slammed his fist down on the desk. A framed photograph fell over, the glass cracked.

  "And I'm the freakin’ Queen of England. Right. At least if you're going to lie, don't treat me like a moron.” Val stood the picture back up. “Or maybe you're just a lunatic."

  "Or a psychopath. Isn't that what Mac calls me, Eros the psychopath? Is that what you think too, Val? That I'm the Eros of disaster, death and madness? That's your thesis topic, isn't it?"

  Val said nothing. A thread of unease slid through him. What if Dylan really was mentally unbalanced? What if this wasn't just a big joke? Val eyed the telephone. Would he have time to call campus security? And if he did call, how would he explain his presence in Mac's office?

  "Stop looking at the phone like that. You're not in any danger from me.” He reached across the desk and touched Val's cheek. “I'd never hurt you, Valentine."

  It took all Val's strength not to lean into that touch, but somehow he managed. Hell, maybe he was the lunatic.

  "How did you know my thesis topic? I never told you that. Are you a stalker or something?"

  Dylan shook his head. “Not a stalker. I told you, I'm Eros."

  "This is nuts.” Val raked shaky fingers through his hair.

  "You got that right.” Dylan sighed. He straightened and walked to the window and peered out between the blinds. “I should have left well enough alone. I should never have tried to..."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You and MacDonnough. The two of you are meant for each other. I should never have interfered with that."

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  Dylan turned from the window. “C'mon, Val. Don't try to tell me you didn't spend your entire freshman year beating off to thoughts of Mac bending you over that desk and fucking you till your brains ran out your ears."

  Val's jaw dropped. How the hell had Dylan known that?

  In his freshman year he'd had a major crush on Mac. It was true. And that particular sex on the desk scenario had been one of his favorite jacking off fantasies.

  "Don't know what to say to that, do you?” Dylan smiled. “That's all right. You haven't had that little fantasy for a while now, have you? Guess maybe you grew out of your crush on the teacher. Mac still has them about you though, did you know that?"

  "I don't think I want to hear this.” Val stepped around the desk and picked up his backpack.

  "I think you need to hear it.” Dylan stopped him before he got halfway to the door. “You're trying to decide about Greece. Well, I think you need all the facts before you do."

  "How did you know—"

  "I'm a fucking god. I just know stuff.” He pointed to a chair. “Sit. And listen."

  Dropping his books at his feet, Val sat. He would listen to what Dylan had to say then he would get the hell out of there.

  Dylan sat across from him. He scrubbed his hands over his face. His beautiful eyes held a haunted expression. “Mac's been dying to fuck you for years, Val. Almost since the day he met you. But he's an honorable man, for the most part, and he wouldn't ever violate the student-teacher relationship like that. But now you're graduating and that barrier won't be there anymore.” Dylan sighed. “He's planning on getting you to Greece, then making his move."

  "You're lying."

  "I'm not."

  "That's why he asked me? Because he wants to fuck me?"

  "Yeah. It's not the only reason. He really does think a lot of you. But yeah, he definitely wants to fuck you."

  "What does all this have to do with you?"

  Dylan shrugged. “I guess I want to know if it's what you want. It's not just the sex, he's half in love with you.” Dylan's smile was sad. “Do you want to be in love with him, Val? Because I can make that happen."

  Val stared at the one who, he suspected, had stolen his heart. The man who, despite his wild assertions about Eros and his disturbingly intimate knowledge of Val's life, was still the single person he most wanted to be with, in bed and out. “How can you do that?"

  "It's what I do, man. You know, gold-tipped arrows and all that. I can make your match. It's what I came for. Then I saw you, met you..."

  "Fucked me."

  "Yeah, that too. But it's more than that. I'm sort of hooked on you, Valentine. It's why I'm still here. Why I haven't done my job and made your match. As long as you didn't know, I could hang around and keep you for myself a little while longer. Now that you do..."

  "Now that I do what?"

  "Now that you know who I am and what I'm doing here, it's time to choose. Do you want to be in love with Mac? Do you want him to fall in love with you? Greece is a very romantic place. Chances are even if I do nothing, the two of you will have a long, hot summer together. Is that what you want, Valentine?"

  Why can't I have you instead? Val swallowed the question.

  "This is crazy.” He got to his feet. “Dude, I think you need medication or something.” He picked up his backpack and started for the door.

  Suddenly Dylan was beside him. He grabbed Val's arm and spun him around. “You believe me. Don't tell me you don't."

  "You're a lunatic. Get out of my way."

  "Not until you answer me. Is this what you want?” Dylan blocked Val's path, his face set in stubborn lines.

  Val did his best to glare, though his pulse was pounding wildly. “You expect me to believe that all this time I've been getting fucked by a mythical deity?"

  "I'm not a myth. I'm as real as you are."

  "Prove it.” Val couldn't believe he was having this conversation.

  "What about when I helped you with your Greek homework?"

  "Big deal. You can translate Greek."

  And Latin too, Val guessed. Without a dictionary.

  Growling low in his throat, Dylan seized Val's upper arms and dragged him close. Val's backpack crashed to the floor just before Dylan's mouth slammed down on his.

  His lips mashed against his teeth, the kiss tasting of blood and frustration. Dylan's fingers bit into his arms, hard enough to bruise.

  Val moaned.

  The kiss broke as suddenly as it had begun. He was pushed away and held at arm's length, Dylan's gaze burning into his.

  "Is that real enough for you, Val?"

  With fingers that weren't quit
e steady, Val touched his bruised lips. “Eros is a myth. He doesn't exist. In the classical cannon—"

  "Put a lid on it, man. You sound just like MacDonnough."

  "Leave Mac out of this."

  "Yeah, fine, whatever.” Dylan shoved a hand through the hair that fell in wild waves around his face. “I'm sure the two of you will be very happy together in Greece."

  "I haven't said I was going.” He'd never seen Dylan's hair loose before and hadn't even noticed it till that moment.

  God, he was so beautiful.

  "You'll go."

  "Is that another bit of godly knowledge? Can you look into the future and know what I'll decide, too?"

  All he got this time was a shrug.

  "I haven't decided. I don't know if I even want to go."

  Dylan laughed. “You're fucking creaming your jeans to go to Greece."

  He was too, or had been, before he met Dylan.

  "I don't want to hear anymore."

  "Do you want him to fall in love with you?"

  "C'mon with the falling in love crap, man."

  "I can make him fall in love with you. It'll be easy. Would that be enough proof for you that I am who I say I am?"

  "You're a lunatic.” Val backed up.

  "Am I?” Dylan snapped his fingers. There was a flash like a million light bulbs all coming on at once.

  Val stumbled back, shielding his eyes against the blinding glare. Blinking to clear his vision, he gaped, unable to believe what he was seeing.

  In Dylan's hand, he held a bow and arrow. A gold-tipped arrow. Without breaking eye contact, he fitted the arrow and drew back the string.

  "Just say the word, my little Valentine, and I'll get you the man of your dreams."

  Raising his hands as if warding off a blow, Val backed up. His foot caught on the leg of a chair and he tumbled backward. His head thudded against the edge of the desk, pain exploding at the back of his skull, then he was swallowed up by darkness.

  * * * *

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Shit.

  Reaching out blindly toward the sound, Val slammed his hand down on the alarm clock, cutting off the obnoxious beeping before it made his head explode.

  The inside of his skull felt like it was filled with broken glass. He rolled over.

  Ow! Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

 

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