by Andrea Speed, A. B. Gayle, Jessie Blackwood, J. J Levesque, Katisha Moreish
Oh yes, I was, Gil thought, sighing inwardly. He dragged his shirt off and stuffed it in his locker, intent on changing as fast as possible. Why the hell did he feel so guilty all of a sudden? It wasn’t as if he owed Miles anything beyond being a guy he worked with. “I’m sorry about this morning,” he said, tugging the navy shirt on and buttoning it up quickly. “I should have called you.” He toed off his shoes and dropped his trousers, pulling the uniform ones on quickly. Reaching into his locker, he retrieved his boots and sat down to pull them on. All the while he could feel Miles’ eyes on him.
Miles snorted; he’d noted the reaction when he used the word ‘coming’. “So, looks like you got lucky? Was it that Asian bloke that looked like he wanted to jump you in the park?” Miles smirked inside as Gil’s flush got deeper. Pale skin was a dead giveaway. One of the reasons he’d let his facial hair grow. He rubbed his beard, he really should get it trimmed. “Sorry, that’s probably way out of line. Anyway, don’t worry, I found someone else to run with.”
Gil looked up at that comment. What the hell was wrong with him now? He shouldn’t feel jealous that the doc had found someone else to keep him company. He tugged his boot on and the laces got caught under his foot. “Damn!” It came out with more vehemence than he intended. “And no! It was not that annoying little prick from the park!” He was pissed off for some reason. Why? Because he figured Miles should credit him with more taste?
“You don’t have to tell me who you were with. It’s none of my business, really.” Although I would love to know who made you look like you’d been fucked senseless Miles thought to himself, catching sight of a couple of hickeys before the shirt covered them. “For some reason I feel that you need someone to look out for you. I know what it’s like being a long way from home, young and horny as hell.”
Someone to look out for me? What did the doc want to become, his father? Gil fastened off his boots, trying not to let his feelings show on his face, and sighed. “I was out of line, being late this morning. It’s only my second week, for God’s sake. I went to the party last night....”
“As long as you don’t make a habit of it. Luckily there’s been no emergencies.” Miles noted the dark smudges under the young man’s eyes. How much sleep had he got last night? Stop it, Miles. If you go on much longer your nice shade of green will be a lovely contrast to the paramedic’s blushes. “You didn’t ask me who my jogging companion was.”
Do I want to know? Gil thought.
“Rufus the Second. Roofie for short.” Miles chuckled inside at the nickname. A few walks with the dog, and he’d fall asleep on the couch no problem.
“Either you’ve made a date with some obscure monarch, or you’ve managed to find yourself a pet. A dog?”
“Yep, the mutt from the park. I’ll tell you all about it while we walk to the hospital cafeteria. You look like you could do with a nice cuppa.” Miles cocked his little finger in the classic “tea” signal.
Gil nodded, he was dying for a cup of tea, and so far, in true hospital-cafeteria style, somehow they managed to produce a half-decent brew among all these coffee-obsessed Americans. He followed Miles out of the room.
“So, was it the sheriff?” Miles asked, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know. “When we turned in the hand yesterday, he was eyeing you off like a tasty morsel” Not that he was jealous. Far from it. He just found that now his love life was non-existent, he enjoyed knowing others weren’t in the same pathetic boat. Living vicariously as it were. Gil had that fresh-faced innocence that simply begged out to be fucked. If he was ten years younger, he’d have been lining up, too.
“The Sheriff might have something to say about it if he finds out.” Gil admitted. He knew the man had been more than interested when he had pulled him over the other day. “Miles...” Gil stopped following and stood in the corridor, not certain what to say. He hadn’t shaken the homesickness that had washed through him before he left Asher’s car. Maybe it was Asher’s generous invitation to the Steele that had thrown in his face the fact he knew very few people. Maybe it was the weather, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it had all conspired to make him feel out of place and out of whack.
Miles saw Gil’s face turn pale all of a sudden. Shit. All his wild fancies about who he had or hadn’t fucked now seemed not only inappropriate but petty, wrong. He put out his hand and rested it briefly on Gil’s shoulder. No more than a touch, a brief moment of contact. “It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me, but if you need a friend, someone to talk to. Don’t hesitate. As I said before. It can get lonely living a long way from home. I’m not family.” Miles sighed inside. That’s exactly what he sounded like, like the kid’s grandfather, giving advice. Who was he to offer words of comfort? He had a hard enough time coping with his own shit. He sighed. “Just know that if you ever have a problem. I’m here for you.”
Gil forced a smile. Part of him resisted Miles’ attempt to comfort him. Part of him welcomed the concern, more than welcomed it in fact. He was about to open his mouth and confess when Miles continued on.
“Now about this black and white dog that I thought was black and brown....”
Haven Falls #73: Cream With Your Coffee?
Aiden Parker & Flynn Archer
_______________________________________
Aiden unlocked the door to his house and pushed the door open, letting Dante off his leash to run inside. “Come on in,” he said to Flynn, holding the door open for him. He had been jumpy the entire walk home and had not really let go of Flynn until they were close to his house. He said it was to make sure they stuck together, though part of him wondered if it was to keep him from running off as well.
Flynn followed Aiden and Dante in, feeling just a bit like he was walking to the gallows. He’d been deciding on the way what to tell him, what he could safely tell him. Not all of it, never all of it, but maybe some. He could cherry pick the truth, and go from there. It was easier to improvise when there was some truth at the core. “Well ... do I get free smoking jacket at this hunting lodge?” His living room had an almost excessive manliness to it, all earth tones and cleanliness, with books everywhere like it was a goddamn lending library. It was cute, in a way.
“Um, no. And I don’t now if you smoke, but no smoking in my house. He glanced at Flynn’s pockets for some tell-tale sign of a pack then went to the kitchen. He wiped a hand through his damp hair and grabbed the phone. “Do you want something to drink?”
"Uh, who are you calling?"
“I have to call work and tell them I’m not going in. They’ll need to find a sub for me.” Aiden glanced at the clock and breathed a sigh of relief. He still had enough time to meet the deadline. “Make yourself comfortable, this will just take a minute.”
“Oh sure.” If he really made himself at home, he’d strip down to his underwear and watch crappy television, or maybe just surf the internet for porn, but somehow he didn’t think that was what he meant. At least he wasn’t calling the cops. He really didn’t need the cops in his face right now.
Flynn started looking around at his books, listening vaguely as Little Red Riding Hood talked to someone at his school. He had a fireplace, which always struck him as weird, perhaps because he never saw the appeal of them, but he had books on the shelf above. Leather bound, they looked old ... they looked like something that might be worth money to someone. (Oh goddamn it. Once a thief, always a thief.) He’d picked up an H.P. Lovecraft and was flipping through it, still unable to keep from wondering how much he could sell it for on eBay if he had to, when Aiden came back into the living room.
After hanging up the phone, Aiden stepped back into the living room and saw one of his books in Flynn’s hands. He had to fight a cringe. He hated when anyone touched his books without asking first, but he took a deep breath and let it go. “Those are older, so please be careful with them. They’re not worth much on the market because of their condition and edition, but they are to me.”
“Okay, cool.” He closed the book and put
it back, wondering if Aiden was starting to not trust him. Fair enough - he’d given him no reason to trust him. “Any chance of coffee? Or do you want to skip to the big boy stuff and get wasted?”
“Coffee sounds good. It’s too early to drink. Although, in this case I may make an exception.” Disappearing back into the kitchen, Aiden started a pot of coffee going and pulled out two plain blue mugs. Questions ran through his mind - most of which he was going to ask, and get answers to - while he worked.
“Hey, can I get mine in a “World’s Greatest Grandpa” mug?”
Aiden couldn’t help it and laughed softly. “Sorry. I broke it yesterday.”
“Goddamn it. That settles it. Next time I visit a mall, I’m getting you a “World’s Clumsiest Teacher” mug.”
“I seriously doubt you’d be able to find one. However, ‘World’s Greatest Teacher’ comes in every size, shape, color, and language.” The coffee was starting to percolate and he breathed it in, relaxing slightly. He was home now. Home was safe. And the scent of coffee instantly put him at ease.
Flynn stood in the kitchen archway, watching Aiden pour the coffee. “You’re gonna have to teach me something first, before I make that kind of commitment. So what do you wanna teach me?” He put on his sexiest smile, hoping to make him forget all about the shooting. Maybe he wouldn’t ask for an explanation of any sort if he could get him preoccupied with something else.
Aiden turned and put his back against the counter, leaning back on his elbows and staring at Flynn. Damn if the man wasn’t hot. He resisted the urge to lick his lips. “I could teach you a few things. But coffee first. And questions for you. Like what the hell happened back there?” He moved to the fridge and pulled out the cream and held it up in question.
“Just a half a cup of sugar. Look, I don’t know what happened back there, except we almost became a drive by statistic.” Maybe denial would work. It wasn’t just a river in Egypt, it was a handy shield.
“Half cup? Seriously?” Aiden raised an eyebrow. “A drive by? I seriously doubt it. I could leave me door unlocked in this town and come home to find everything still there. I’ve been here nearly a year, Flynn, and aside from some stupid teenagers and their usual messing around and pranks, there is nothing. So please. I’m not stupid.”
Flynn sighed and pulled out a kitchen chair, which he collapsed into dramatically. But frankly he was kind of tired. Adrenaline crash was going to do that to you. Okay, so he’d go with story A, and see if that was enough. “I came to Haven Falls looking for someone. But you gotta keep this between us, okay? Tell no one.” He took a deep breath, and continued. Telling half-truths still felt kind of exposing, like he was asking someone to come and fuck him over again. “My mother was murdered eighteen years ago. The case was never solved. My dad disappeared about a year ago, a year and a half, and I now have reason to believe he was in on it. That’s why I’m here. Supposedly he’s here somewhere.”
Aiden prepared his coffee, put the cream away, then set Flynn’s coffee in front of him with the bowl of sugar. He’d put two scoops in but maybe it wasn’t enough. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother. You really think your father had something to do with it?” He took a seat in his usual chair. Dante had apparently crashed from the excitement and was sleeping on his bed by the door.
“I went through his papers after he disappeared, and I found a life insurance policy he’d taken out on both me and my mother a week before she died. If that’s not suspicious, I don’t know what is. Also, he lied to the cops. He said he hadn’t seen my mom for months before her death, but I have a time stamped photograph that has him meeting with her on a street corner the day before her death.” He picked up the teaspoon out of the sugar bowl and dumped about four more in before stirring his coffee. Had to be good and sweet; a caffeine and sugar punch should make the crash feeling go away.
“When did you find the photograph? Have you gone to the cops with this information?” The amount of sugar Flynn was dumping in his coffee was disturbing. Aiden liked sweet things too, but that was crazy. He sipped his own.
“I don’t like cops. I’ve had some bad experiences that lead me to guess we have a mutual hate on.” Flynn sipped his coffee, and winced. Kind of sweet, but still kind of bitter, so he stirred in another couple of teaspoons of sugar. He had no idea if the mildly horrified look Aiden was giving him was for the story, the coffee, or both. “And someone sent me the photo.”
“When did they send it to you?”
“About a month ago.” Two weeks, six days, and seven point three hours ago, but who was really counting?
Aiden felt like he was in the middle of a mystery plot, and a piece of his literary side was excited. He tried to tell himself that this was bad and he should not be involved, that he should be calling the cops about the shooting, but he stayed in his seat. “Why would they wait so long to send you the photo? Do they want something from you?”
Flynn sighed. These were questions he had asked himself, to no avail. “I don’t know. I figured I was being set up, but I also figured what the hell. It wasn’t like I had much of a life left to lose anyways. Which is why I thought maybe you should run as far away from me as possible. Can’t say I didn’t warn you, teach.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll admit you did warn me. But I wasn’t expecting to be shot at. Do you think the person who sent the photo is the one who did this today?”
Flynn shrugged. “I dunno. You’d think, but I haven’t made any headway in my own investigations.” He wasn’t going to tell him about Vale just yet, nor about his own shady past. Those could wait until the apocalypse. Beneath the table, Flynn rubbed his leg against Aiden’s calf. It was fast, like maybe it was an accident, but he sat back in his chair and gave him a small smile. “We got all day, don’t we? Why don’t you give me a tour of the place? Maybe we could find something else to do to pass the time.”
Aiden continued to sip his coffee, fighting the blush off his face and losing. “It’s a small house. It wouldn’t be much of a tour, I’m afraid.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Flynn admitted, and suddenly felt weary. The coffee was taking too long to work. “Why don’t we go upstairs and pick up where we left off?”
“You mean show you my etchings?” Aiden smiled around the rim of his cup.
Flynn grinned back. “Yeah. Got any good ones? I here there’s this guy, Pixar, who does amazing work. Got him?”
“Sadly, no. Sorry.” Finishing the coffee quickly, he set the cup down on the table.
How honest could he be with him? He didn’t know. He thought he had lost his mind to trust him as much as he did. But Aiden seemed harmless, like a guy who would never hurt anyone, which was so unlike his usual type he honestly had no idea why he was here. If a guy didn’t have a rap sheet, he hardly knew them at all. Then again, maybe that was why all his relationships had been jokes. “Look ... I really don’t wanna go home right now. Can I stay here?”
He wasn’t sure if that was just a line, or Flynn really meant it, but one look at his face and Aiden couldn’t deny him a place for a while. They had just been shot at. Who would want to go back out there? “Yeah, you can stay here.”
“Thanks.” Flynn stood up, and asked, “Where’s the bathroom? I think I need to go puke up my dinner. Got any Valium I can borrow?”
Aiden cringed a little. Poor guy. “No Valium, but the bathroom is just inside the front door.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Flynn walked off, running his hands through his hair, wondering if he should call it quits now before shit got any realer. He should go to his place, repack his duffel bag, and get the fuck out of Dodge before the gunman came back for round two. But he wasn’t known for his genius, was he? Oh fuck it, when had life gotten so complicated?
As he walked by, Aiden noticed a little shake in his hands and he got up to follow him and make sure he was okay. “Flynn, are you sure you’re all right?”
Flynn stopped and turned to face him. “You know, no, I am seriousl
y not all right.” He then grabbed Aiden and kissed him, his lips still soft, although now they tasted of bitter coffee. He slid his hands up his back, beneath his shirt, because he had to feel his skin. It was warm and soft, and he thought he could feel his blood pumping through his body. This was nice. This was real and safe and this was something he could handle.
The change from feeling sick to the sudden kiss startled Aiden, but he went with it, and returned the kiss with just as much pressure and force as Flynn gave. The hands on his back felt fantastic and he tried not to dwell on how long it had been. Don’t think, just do, Aiden. He ran his hands up Flynn’s chest and rested them there, fingers lightly gripping the tank top under his fingers.
Flynn gently bit Aiden’s lower lip as he walked them back to the sofa, and pushed him down, kissing him the whole time, pressing down on him. He felt so good, such a warm, solid weight beneath him, it was hard to believe anything bad had ever happened. Yes, he was going with that thought. He liked that. Denial could be fun too.
Aiden moaned softly as he was backed to his couch. Flynn’s weight above him was perfect, and he found his hands wandering more. They slipped under the tank but it wasn’t enough. He pushed Flynn back enough to pull it off over his head and tossed it to the floor. Once it was gone, he pulled him back down, continued the kiss, and let Flynn have control.
Haven Falls #75: Sexy Time
Flynn Archer & Aiden Parker
(Some adult content)
Flynn grabbed one of Aiden’s hands and pinned it down to the couch as he kissed him deeply, grinding his pelvis into his. God, he’d wanted Little Red Riding Hood since he’d first seen him. It was almost unbelievable that he was letting him get this far. But fear and people’s reactions to it could do funny things to a person. Especially someone who should know better.