Into The Light

by Wolfe, H. M.

  Once the t-shirt Ezra wore was replaced with a clean one, and his jeans zipped, Leon evaluated the situation. He decided to leave the kid on the sofa because moving him could trigger a massive panic attack, and the poor kid had already been through enough for one day.

  Bringing a pillow and two blankets from Ezra's bedroom, Leon settled him as comfortably as he could. While the kid curled under the blankets, shutting his eyes tight, the man tentatively caressed his forehead and cheek. After some time, to his great relief, the tension started to dissipate a little, and Ezra relaxed visibly.

  He gripped Leon's hand, holding it tight. So the man got the message and just sat there. He was watching how the kid's breath became less hitched, it's rhythm more and more regular until it evened completely. The man gently ran his free hand over the blankets, until the boy's lids became heavy and closed.

  "I won't let that monster of a woman or anyone else hurt you or Alasdair. That is a promise I will keep at all cost," Leon said to himself, as he watched Ezra sleeping. Then, the realization hit him in full force, bringing a mysterious smile to his face. One of the most powerful mafiosi in the entire country called him friend and ally.

  "You won't even know what hit you, bitch, and when you do, it's going to be too late for you to try anything. Watch and learn, as you used to say all the time. I learned all right...only not from you!"

  **********

  Rayne sat in his usual spot, on the other side of the bar. Relatively far from all the noise, chatty or too drunk patrons made while talking to the bartender. Usually, the doctor exchanged a word or two with some of the most familiar. Who always left the bar straight as an arrow.

  But that particular evening, Rayne wasn't in the mood for conversation. He wasn't even tired. The day at the little makeshift clinic which he'd recently set up in an abandoned warehouse wasn't busy like other times. It was something about the rainy weather, or something in the atmosphere, that made the doctor restless and apathetic.

  Taking another sip of his soda, Rayne shifted in his chair, not wanting to go to the one-bedroom apartment he called home. Nothing and nobody waited for him there, except the cold, white walls and the cracked ceiling to stare at when he couldn't sleep. Looking over his shoulder, Rayne saw him.

  The dirty blond haired guy, with expressive eyes, a color he couldn't guess at, hidden as they were behind the thick rim glasses, sat alone at a table, in the furthest, darkest corner of the bar, as if he was hiding from someone or something. Feeling watched, the man slowly raised his head, looking back at Rayne.

  He was young, the doctor could tell. Much younger than his thirty-three years. Most likely in his early to mid-twenties. He knew he shouldn't stare like that, but couldn't stop it. To his great surprise, instead of being uncomfortable about the awkward situation, the man smiled.

  Rayne turned around, facing the bar again, trying hard to ignore the other one's stare. Meantime, the guy left his place at the table, taking the seat next to the doctor, so he decided to give it a try.

  "Quite a boring evening, isn't it?" God, he thought, what a pathetic pickup line! But then again, Rayne knew nothing about flirting.

  "Yes, you are right, but there's not much to do about it, so... By the way, name's Sagan," he extended his hand, smiling shyly.

  "Rayne," the doctor said, taking it and giving it a light squeeze. Then, the unthinkable happened. "I would like to get to know each other a little better. I live not far from here if you would like to..."

  "I would love to accompany you and find out more about you, maybe spend some quality time together," Sagan whispered, the same shy smile on his face.

  "Let's go, then," throwing some cash on the bar, Rayne took the young man's hand in his, both of them heading to the door.

  The small apartment was as cozy as the doctor could make it with the little money he had, hoping that, one day, his son would come to live with him. Right then, all he could think about was the man next to him.

  ”Have you been with someone before?” Rayne asked, blushing violently. ”As a top, I mean, because I want you inside of me,” he added.

  "I've never been with anyone, top or bottom," Sagan answered quietly, blushing again. "You are my first."

  The doctor's emerald-green eyes darkened, his breath hitching a little. He pulled a piece of paper from his leather jacket's pocket, giving it to the other man. "I test myself on a daily basis. I have my reasons. These are today's results, take a look. I don't want anything between us, I know it sounds crazy, as we met only half an hour ago, but..."

  Sagan didn't say anything. He just studied the paper. "It's OK, I...I trust you", he said, the shy smile playing on his lips again.

  Rayne led the other man into the bedroom. He slowly started to remove Sagan's clothes, covering his face and neck with hungry kisses. The guy reacted hastily, reciprocating the actions, and soon, they both stood naked in front of each other.

  Sagan tentatively touched Rayne's chest with one hand, then he started to caress the well-defined pecs, giving the man a light push to the edge of the bed. Getting the message, the doctor climbed onto the bed, turning to the nightstand to get the bottle of lube, then lay on his back, staring at Sagan.

  The younger man answered the silent invitation by joining Rayne on the bed. With feather-light touches, he continued to run his fingertips up and down the older man's torso, making his heart hammer in his chest. Shyly, Sagan lowered his head, kissing the tip of Rayne's cock and teasing the slit.

  Lubricating his fingers, the young man slid one inside the doctor's hole, working it open. After a while, he inserted a second finger, increasing the speed and turning the redhead into a moaning mess. He looked beautiful, Sagan thought, as he laid down on the bed, entirely at his mercy.

  He pulled out his fingers and Rayne quietly whimpered at the loss, quivering in anticipation as he felt the head of the other man's cock touching his entrance. Leaning against the redhead, Sagan started to push inside him tortuously slow, while taking his lips in a gentle, but passionate kiss that left Rayne wanting more.

  The rhythm of his thrusts continued to be slow, the younger man taking his sweet time with the redhead, whose green eyes darkened to the point of becoming black. The butterfly kisses Sagan placed all over his heated torso, neck and face made Rayne arch his back from the bed, meeting the young man's thrusts with his own, consumed by the need for even more.

  He felt his orgasm building in his groin and grabbed his cock with one hand while caressing his lover's back with the other. Whimpering in need, Rayne searched for Sagan's mouth, to taste and explore it. Smiling, the other man granted him access, and, as they kissed each other hungrily, passionately, their orgasm exploded, leaving the two of them surrounded by a million fireworks.

  Rayne sighed softly, as he put both his hands on his belly. That one night stand had consequences, he thought, smiling for a thousandth time that day. A baby was growing inside of him, and it will be loved, protected and cared for just like his older brother Gerrard.

  Thinking about his thirteen-year-old son, Rayne felt his heart full of gratitude for Alastair Stark, who, by donating three times as much as Conroy to the boy's school, tipped the balance in his favor at the custody hearing. He also convinced the principal to return the check he got from Doctor Winters so that the bastard could have nothing on him.

  His situation was so different, compared to what poor Daniel was going through, Rayne thought, feeling sorry for the man. It'd was a week since Tarquin had said a word to him, after finding out about the pregnancy. The blond hadn't spoken with anyone, not even the kids, turning into a shadow of the man Rayne had known.

  That day was somehow different, as Daniel finally decided to ask Martin Cornelius and Christine for advice, and Tarquin messaged Liam. With the help of their best friends and confidantes, Rayne hoped, the two would sort out the misunderstanding, resuming their life.

  On the other hand, he was afraid they would also split up for good especially as Tarquin had started to p
ack up his things, intending to move out anyway. Suddenly, the thick, uncomfortable silence surrounding the mansion, was broken by the sound of a woman's voice.

  "Is that husband of yours insane? How could he even think that you could or would cheat on him?" Christine spoke in a revolted voice. "You stuck with him through thick and thin, Martin Cornelius told me the whole story, and... No, I'm very disappointed in Tarquin."

  "Christine, not so quick, love," Fabian's son spoke in his usual calm tone. "Listen, Daniel. You know how my mind works, so I've got to ask you this. Did you give your husband reasons to doubt you?"

  "No, I was always faithful to him, Tarquin was, is and will always be the only man in my life. Martin Cornelius, Christine, you have to believe me," Daniel barely whispered, breathing heavily.

  Just then, Elizabeth, Liam, and Darien arrived, and, without losing another moment, leaving the girls' car, the two Stark cousins helping the blind boy. Once inside, they were greeted, by the newly engaged couple and the raven-haired man, who looked exhausted and overall miserable.

  Meanwhile, in one of the spare bedrooms, Tarquin sat between neatly folded piles of clothes ready to be packed. More Starks arriving at the mansion, more allies for his husband, he thought bitterly. Even Liam, who was his friend, would eventually side with Daniel because the blood bond was stronger than any friendship.

  Sighing in frustration, he took a pile of clothes, intending to put it in a suitcase, when his attention was drawn to the little square objects landing on the floor. He took one in his hand, not realizing what it was until he read the label. It was lube, a travel-size package of lube.

  With the realization, everything crashed down on Tarquin, only to click into place, like the pieces of a puzzle. The passionate, intense, wild, desire-filled sex they had in the back of Daniel's car, the day they got Swinton out of prison...He'd used regular lube then, how could he forget something so goddamn important?

  And now, because of his stupidity, he was going to lose the only man who cared about him, fought for him, stayed by his side, raised a family with him. How could he do that?

  ”Tarquin? What happened?” Hearing the concern pouring from that voice he knew so well was more than the blond could endure.

  He slowly raised his head, looking into those sapphire blue eyes. "I've treated you so wrongly, Daniel, I...Will you ever forgive me?"

  "Of course I will, I love you too much to let you go, to give up on you, too...Come on, husband, the others wait for us, they might think we've killed each other if we don't go downstairs," the raven-haired man smiled through tears.

  The two of them went downstairs, holding hands and smiling at each other. When they were in front of the little gathering waiting impatiently, the men kissed each other fiercely, as their friends and cousins stared at them in disbelief.

  "Is everything all right there, guys?" Darien asked, sensing a different, good kind of tension into the air. Because if it's so, I want to tell you all something," he hesitated a little.

  ”Go on, Dar-Dar, this is a drama-free area,” Liam grinned.

  "OK," the boy inhaled sharply. "I think I'm in love. No, I am in love,” he said, then listened intently.

  "Wow! Does lucky guy happen to be our resident rescuer, Leon?" Liam asked, in an enthusiastic, warm voice.

  "Yes, it's him," Darien answered, feeling all his friends' love surrounding him, as they expressed their best wishes for the two of them. Speaking of his love for another man was good, and it made him feel safe.

  CHAPTER 39

  The monotonous beep of the monitors that so many people found to be extremely annoying was sweet music to Colin’s ears because it meant that his beloved Vince was still alive. For the last two weeks, that small hospital room was the bar owner’s home, the place his hopes were buried and then brought to life again, with each delicate surgery the man who meant the world to him underwent.

  Colin came to know each waiting room of the New York General Hospital, befriended all the members of the auxiliary staff. He knew which machine had the best coffee and the other one thousand and one little things he kept his mind busy with, that prevented him from losing his sanity while he waited for news about Vincent’s evolution.

  As for his life, Colin gave it up almost entirely, as if it didn’t belong to him anymore, as if it didn’t matter. The only thing that still concerned him was finding the twins, who, according to Elias, disappeared one day and were nowhere to be seen. Somehow, deep down inside him, Colin was sure the little boys were safe and taken care of, but he still instructed his helper to organize a search party.

  The line that separated his memories from those of Sebastian became thinner by the day, and there were moments when the events from his friend’s life, were so embedded into his own, that the man could not distinguish one from the other. His husband, for instance. Why did he resemble the man Sebastian married, to the point they had the same name?

  Why were they both engaged to abusive assholes before meeting their husbands? Why did their fiancees die in the same way? Why did Colin have the impression Sebastian also had an inflexible, cold-hearted uncle whom he feared? Why was his friend so desperate to protect his older brother, the same way he did?

  Tired as he was from watching Vincent night and day, Colin fell into an agitated slumber, memories from another lifetime breaking out from the place they were locked up, invading his mind. The man remembered how, thirteen years earlier, together with his husband, he visited Vincent at the hospital.

  It was another hospital, a much smaller, more discreet private clinic, but the differences stopped there. Just like two weeks earlier, back then, a cruel man, thirsty for revenge, ordered those who worked for him to capture and torture Vincent until they nearly killed him. Just like then, thirteen years earlier the man was in a deep state of coma.

  At that point, the raven-haired man woke up, remembering all his life, the life of Sebastian Bloom. His memories, which were deeply buried, under the ones of the man he mistakenly was taken for, resurfaced, filling all the blanks in his head. Except one, he frowned, looking around.

  His husband, Joraan, was not in sight. Where could he be? Didn’t his sweet love survive the plane crash? At that thought, Sebastian plopped down into the armchair, powerless and helpless. He grabbed two fistfuls of hair, starting to sob uncontrollably, like a child lost of their parents.

  Meanwhile, Joraan was sitting in one of the waiting rooms, as he had for the past two weeks, not daring to enter Vincent’s hospital room. The redhead was afraid that the man he believed to be Sebastian would chase him away, and he couldn’t stand that thought.

  For the same reason, he initially turned down Alastair’s invitation of going to Fabian’s son engagement party and revealing his existence to Daniel. He was afraid the young man would reject him, not wanting to know his reasons, to listen to him.

  Leaving his seat, the redhead went to Vincent’s room, determined to go inside and talk to the man who never left his side, the man he avoided at all costs until then. Hand on the doorknob, Joraan stopped in his track, as he heard some strange noises coming from inside.

  As the sounds increased in intensity, the man outside the room became worried, so he firmly pushed the door, stepping inside. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of the raven-haired man, whose body shook from the loud sobs racking through it.

  ”Joraan, my sweet love, why are you not here, with me? Didn’t you survive? Why, God?” he cried, staring into the ceiling.

  Hearing the pet name his husband used to call him made the redhead weak in the knees. Suddenly, any doubts he had about the man’s identity vanished. ”I’m here, Sebastian, what happened? Calm down, please, husband!” he said, tears threatening to spill.

  ”Joraan? Where were you? I thought you left me for good, sweet love, and I couldn’t bear the thought, I...”

  ”Shh, everything’s over now, Sebastian. Vince will wake up too, and everything will be the way it should have been from the start,” the redhead stared
into his husband’s dark blue eyes.

  Meantime, Vincent was in a state of semi-consciousness, suspended between two worlds. He could see, or rather feel the raven-haired man who watched him day and night. Sometimes he paced the room agitated. Other times he sat almost entirely inert, blankly staring ahead with a defeated expression.

  His beautiful, sweet Sebastian, who made Vincent’s heart break, when he was like that. The man on the hospital bed felt it was the time to let it go, to set the other free, to allow him to live his life. He was at peace with that decision, but just when he was about to let it go, a familiar voice saying his name made Vincent change his mind.

  It was Joraan, the sweet, lost, grieving boy who put together Sebastian’s damaged heart, by devoting his entire life to him. He needed someone back then, and apparently, the situation hadn’t changed, because Vincent heard him saying his name. As he listened carefully, the man in the hospital bed realized that Joraan was speaking with another man, trying to calm him down.