by Todd Young
“You’ll kill him. And without him, you won’t have me.”
“Oh, come, come, Finny. No need to get all distressed. He’s still breathing. I let him have some water today.”
Fuckhead — Finn’s voice.
“What’s that?” Hunter said.
“Thank God,” Finn said. “I mean — I’m thankful to you for keeping him alive.”
Hunter hesitated. In the darkness, Angel caught the whites of his eyes as he winced at Finn in confusion.
“He can’t hear me,” Finn said, once Hunter had left. “He can’t hear any of us really, but I’ve learned to shield myself from him almost entirely.”
“Are you cold?”
“Cold?”
“Yeah.”
“Angel, I’ve been down here for days. Hell, of course I’m cold.”
“Here,” Angel said, and drew Finn into his arms.
63
“He rations our light and water,” Finn said, “and he keeps us separated. If we had sunshine and water — if we had our mates — we’d have the power to break out of this place.”
“You know, I can feel something from you,” Angel said, closing his eyes and squeezing Finn’s warm, naked body a little tighter.
“The harmony?”
“Yeah, but it’s — like a …”
“Flat note. Off key.”
“Yeah.”
“Well,” Finn said. “We’re not mates.”
But even as he said it, Angel’s cock was hardening between Finn’s thighs. It bulged until it was pressed against the soft underside of his sac. In answer, Finn’s cock began to unfurl, and Angel, hopelessly conflicted, silently began to weep.
Finn sighed, his body softening in Angel’s arms. “Don’t you want to stretch your wings?”
“Stretch my wings?”
“Yeah.” Finn ran his hand over Angel’s ass and up, under his feathers to his shoulder blades, beneath which his wings were still locked. Angel had forgotten all about them. He propped himself on his arms, twisted his shoulders one way and then the other and felt the heft of his wings spring from beneath his shoulders. He spread and flapped them, gripped Finn a little tighter and in a breathy voice said, “Are your wings broken?”
Broken?
Yeah.
No.
I saw a picture in my mind, of you broken and bleeding.
“I sent it to you. I was trying to …”
Finn’s cock slid awkwardly along Angel’s thigh in a sudden stream of slick and, because it was impossible now to pretend that they weren’t touching each other, Angel pulled away.
“You don’t want to?”
“How can I, Finn?”
“You know, I think if we did … if we—”
Angel turned to the wall, spun by a sudden jerk in his chest, as though a wire had been pulled taut and was tugging on his heart. Knowing immediately what it was, he moved quickly toward the wall, beyond which …
“Cole!” he cried.
Angel, he heard faintly.
Cole.
He’s—
Silence.
Angel pressed his body against the cool stone wall. He turned his head and pressed his ear against it. Somewhere, in that direction somewhere, in the direction they’d been walking, Hunter was with Cole.
“He tries it with everyone,” Finn said. “If you’re good, you’ll get the sunshine.”
“The sunshine?”
“He has a courtyard, open directly to daylight, and at midday, if you’ve pleased him, he’ll let you lie in it.”
What? Why?
“We need the sunshine and the rain — the water and the light — and those we’re tied to. With those things we might have strength, incredible strength, but he’s taken us before we’re fully formed. There are guys down here who’ve been here for years.”
Angel crumpled to the floor and rested his forehead on his knees. He winced, felt the pull to Cole, of his cry for help, though the sound of his voice had been silenced now.
“Hunter’s fucking him,” Finn said.
“Can you shut the fuck up?”
64
Finn sat against the wall opposite Angel, his silver eyes staring unseeing at the night. Angel listened to Cole’s cries and endured it somehow. Distant and muted though they were, Angel could picture all of what was happening with Hunter. He could feel it too. He knew, without having to be told, that Hunter wasn’t only fucking Cole, but making Cole fuck him also.
When it was finally over, Finn lifted his chin. “You want to sleep?”
“Sleep?”
“It’s better if you sleep in the darkness — when it’s night outside. Otherwise you might wake to find the sunshine. You might be on your back, and have missed what light you could have got.”
“On your back?”
“We draw strength through our wings,” Finn said. “I haven’t got it all worked out, but I know enough. There’s a guy here — Aaron. I can speak to him. At least, I can hear him sometimes. Occasionally he’ll tell me something.” Finn sighed. “He was Hunter’s first.”
Angel closed his eyes.
“He’s been down here, he thinks, for eighty or ninety years.”
“He — what?” Angel said, figuring he must have heard Finn wrong.
Finn bowed his head and in a mumble said, “We’re immortal.”
“What did you say? Immortal?”
“Since we got the disease, we can’t die.”
“We can’t die?”
“Barring accident or injury, Aaron says. But most guys turn dark. Aaron’s mate — Ben — was dark when the two of them were bound, and they were the first, it seems.”
“The first gay guys?”
Finn nodded.
Angel laid his head against the wall and closed his eyes. After a few minutes had passed, he opened them again and told Finn what had happened in the park, with Darius and Sophia.
Finn listened with his head in his hands. He was silent for a long time. “And they called it the Realm?” he finally said.
“Yeah.”
Finn nodded sadly. He lifted his head and stared beyond the bars. Angel’s eyes had adjusted to the gloom, or he’d thought so, though he now saw that beyond the bars, across the passageway, there was an identical cell. Within it, two darkened figures were sleeping in silence, crumpled on the floor like rags.
“Who are they?”
“Ben is the dark one, in the corner. The other is Juan. He was bought in a week or so ago. I know him from the streets.”
“Are they sleeping?”
“I guess.”
Angel got up and pressed his face against the bars. The passageway yawned into the distance on either side, lined with cells trembling ghostlike in the gloomy night.
“How many of us are there?”
“One hundred thirty — thirty-two now,” Finn said, and spat.
Angel stayed by the bars, watching Juan and Ben. He glimpsed the shallowest of breaths from each of them, and it cheered him a little.
Then Finn began to speak again. “You know, I knew a guy who used to speak about the Realm.”
“Cole told me,” Angel said. He turned to Finn.
“Cole …? Oh, right.”
“The Realm is inside you and outside you. It is spread upon the earth, but men do not see it.”
“And you didn’t see it?” Finn said.
“I guess not.”
“Maybe we’re damned, then.”
65
Angel woke to the sound of something shifting, to the sound of plywood on steel. Abruptly, from above him, brilliant sunlight broke into the cell, breaking through the gridwork ceiling. He winced against the light and turned his face to the floor, all at once aware of Finn’s hand resting lazily against the small of his back.
“Finn,” he said.
No answer.
Angel lay rigid, propped on his elbows. Between his thighs, his cock began to inch along the gritty floor. He swallowed, knowing he could blame Finn�
�s hand for that, the fingers of which had trailed into the cleft of his ass. He couldn’t simply lay here, not like this, not with Finn’s fingers in his crack when Cole …
Daylight.
He moved quickly, taking hold of his cock and dislodging Finn’s hand as he turned over. Automatically, he tightened his eyes against the glare and reached for Finn’s shoulder.
Finn groaned.
“Finn!” Angel said, shaking him gently.
There was a confusion of feathers as Finn started into wakefulness. His wings quivered as he pushed his chest off the floor. He shook his head spasmodically, his fair hair ruffled.
“I’ll take this corner,” he said.
“Corner?”
“Lie on your stomach and stretch your wings.” Finn crawled toward the corner, his naked ass pale in the sunshine.
Angel moved toward the opposite corner and lay down, entwining his legs with Finn’s until each of them had a foot between the other’s thighs. The sunlight was frail, but after a few moments, Angel began to feel as though he could hear something inside it, a surging harmony similar to what he’d felt with Cole, though this seemed to be coming from the sunlight, or perhaps even the sun itself. The surge seemed to carry with it the sigh of the angels trapped down here with him, of tattered angels in captivity, thirsting for light.
As warmth enveloped the cell, Angel grew aware of a whisper in his thoughts like the sound of a hundred lovers speaking. He focused his attention on it, and was surprised to hear the faint, tattered threads of gentle voices in rapport, supporting one another with weary encouragement, a communal mind, it seemed, though how much conscious volition was behind what Angel was hearing he couldn’t tell. Each voice seemed to carry with it the character of the speaker, so that Angel felt as though he knew all of them, and as he reflected on this, he stumbled upon Cole, silent and dumbfounded amongst them all.
Cole’s presence flooded Angel’s mind with the force of a dam bursting, a body of water and gravity being as important to each other as Angel and Cole, it seemed. Their minds entwined fluidly, coiling into each other like a pair of bright colors in white vinegar. In a burst of camera light, Cole flashed into Angel’s mind smiling enthusiastically, his green eyes fanned by crinkles and glinting in bright sunshine. His hair had fallen forward and was framing his brow, curling around his temples on either side. Automatically, Angel reached for it. When he realized Cole was an illusion, he groaned, and then groaned again, impossibly conflicted as the weight of his attitude to Finn crashed down upon him.
It wasn’t as though he’d done anything with Finn. Not really. It wasn’t as though he’d had sex with him.
Cole advanced with a sudden lurch, erupting into Angel’s mind. You’re okay? Angel said uncertainly, wondering if he could deceive Cole when they were this close to each other. At the same time he wasn’t quite sure if he wasn’t imaging Cole’s presence altogether. Cole relaxed with a sigh, but though Angel waited, failed to speak.
Again, Angel pictured him. No, he wasn’t as attractive as Finn. That wasn’t possible. He was thin — too thin. His hair was rough and coarse and straw like. His body was bruised. His chest was underdeveloped, and his face wan. The way he looked at Angel with those wide, hurt eyes, seemed to place an obligation on Angel that he might be better off …
Really, he reflected, turning it over, anyone could be forgiven for mistaking Cole for a malnourished teenager … which was what he was, Angel concluded, with an unexpected revolution of thought.
A dirty, fucking hustler.
Again, Angel groaned. Cole’s face flashed in his mind like an accusation, beautifully flooded by pristine sunlight. Cole smiled his frail smile. He gazed at Angel trustingly, and Angel, full of renewed love, felt as if his body were liquefying. Of course Cole was beautiful. Of course Angel loved him. Who gave a fucking shit what he looked like?
Cole! he cried in sudden distress.
You won’t hear him, Finn said.
What?
Angel twisted his body. Despite the fact that they had a foot between each other’s thighs, he’d almost forgotten Finn was there. Finn angled his head so he could see Angel and repeated himself.
You won’t hear him.
And why’s that? Angel said, bitterness welling in his mouth. He was angry with Finn now, angry simply because he was here and so fucking … desirable.
He’s been weakened. Deprived of light. Dehydrated. Finn winced. Burned as Angel anchored his glare in the silvery water of his eyes. He’s been with Hunter.
That matters?
It weakens the tie.
But I’m tied to you, Finn?
No, but you infected me. And anyway, like I’ve told you, I’m different. I love all of you.
66
The sun warmed as it rose into the sky, a plaid pattern of weak light inching over their naked bodies. Before Angel knew it, the light was falling from directly overhead. Even down here in the dusty cell, there was heat in it, a sudden heat that made Angel’s body tingle. It was as if an electric current were tickling the silky filaments in his feathers, surging through his wings and into his shoulders. From there, it trickled throughout his body, filling him with happiness and light. As the sensation thrilled into Angel’s core, a bizarre buzzing tremor began to ripple through his skin, numbing him, he felt at first. Sinking into the warmth of the sensation, his frustration over the situation with Cole and Finn began to fade from his mind. He drifted. Images began to emerge, and he felt as though he were meandering into sleep. He was then suddenly and acutely aware of his penis, which stiffened unexpectedly in response to the tremor in his skin like the arm of a German soldier saluting Hitler.
Angel repressed a sudden urge to laugh and closed his eyes, his penis trapped awkwardly beneath him. He lay in silence, smiling and half-willing his erection away, but only because it was uncomfortable and perhaps embarrassing, at least potentially. It certainly didn’t seem to be connected with Finn. But no sooner had Angel thought this than Finn’s foot slid unannounced into his groin, Finn’s toes pressing forward until they were involved with Angel’s sac. Finn groaned unconvincingly, apparently annoyed about something and unaware of the fact that his toes were muddled in Angel’s junk.
“What?” Angel said, half-smiling and happily playing dumb as a sexual rush coursed through him. He lifted himself onto his elbows and glanced over his shoulder.
“He’ll shut out the light now.”
“What?”
“He’ll shut the light out. Just when we might have caught a few stray beams of actual sunshine, he’ll shut it out.”
Angel heard the words, but failed to understand what Finn was saying. His eyes were locked on Finn’s ass, which from this angle seemed impossibly firm and tight, the hairless flesh bulging above the creases at the backs of his thighs. Between Finn’s legs, Angel could see his sac and the shape of Finn’s balls resting tenderly within it. He was wondering what it would feel like to suck them into his mouth and roll them in his tongue when he became aware of the silver aura.
He lifted his eyes and was stunned to see Finn’s wings glittering with silver striations. A light appeared to be rising from them like vapor, and on Finn’s ass, Angel now saw, someone appeared to have scattered metallic glitter. Angel winced in confusion. He stared fixedly, but closed his eyes when his cock jerked, pressing laboriously against the worn flagstones beneath him.
Finn stopped speaking. He lifted an elbow and glanced at Angel from the shadow of his armpit. “You okay?”
“Your wings!”
“What about them?”
“They’re silver.”
“Yeah — well, white and silver,” Finn said, drawing the tip of one wing toward him. He played the feathers over his lips.
Angel turned away and took a deep breath. He lowered his head and willed his erection down, ashamed of the way he’d been staring at Finn, though in the frail light of the cell, he was again aware of how impossibly attractive the guy was.
Irresisti
ble, even.
His ass! With the glitter! Angel thought, and tried to push the image away. He knew it was going to happen, and though he felt awful about it and wanted it to stop, it was beyond him. Without thought, he thrust his cock against the flagstones and held still. He came in silence, warm jism flooding the space between his stomach and the stone. Almost immediately, a wave of guilt crashed over him, nauseating him with the force of adrenaline.
“Can you get your toes out of my sac,” he said in sudden anger, and jangled his legs in frustration.
“Sor-ry,” Finn said, and drew his foot away.
A clanging rattle erupted from overhead, footsteps drawing the plywood boards over the grid. An angel cried out in sudden despair. A moment later, a second answered.
“There,” Finn said, getting to his knees and lifting his face toward the light, his cock swinging gently between his thighs. A moment later they saw Hunter’s shadow, followed by the shadow of the board he was carrying. No sooner had it fallen on the grid than Finn’s body collapsed into darkness. “Fuck!” he said.
“Oh, hell,” Angel replied as the cold began to filter into his skin. He pushed himself off the floor and sat awkwardly on a heel, his cock limp now, even if he was sticky with cum.
Finn was insubstantial in the gloom. “It’s a shock, isn’t it?”
“Fuck!”
“You want me to hold you?”
Did he want Finn to hold him? Now?
“Come on,” Finn said.
Angel tucked his chin onto his chest and huffed. Now? When he’d just orgasmed? In the darkness, he screwed his eyes tight and made a face, and then, acting as though someone else were willing his body, he crawled to Finn. He reached for him and touched a nipple. Finn started in fear, crying out and slapping Angel’s hand away.
Angel laughed.
“Sorry.”
“No — it’s just. I can’t see you.”
“Here,” Finn said. He reached for Angel’s hand, found it, and then directed it to his groin. He placed it on his penis, pressed Angel’s fingers firmly against the soft skin, and then released it.
A moment passed in which Angel didn’t move. In fact, he’d even began to tease his fingers onto the underside of Finn’s cock when he suddenly withdrew his hand.