by Andrea Speed, A. B. Gayle, Jessie Blackwood, J. J Levesque, Katisha Moreish
“What’s that?”
“Riley’s journal. From what I have been able to figure out, he was here under an assumed name as well. I think he came here illegally from ... somewhere in Eastern Europe. Something ending in -stan, hence his name.”
“So you did find something at his house that night. I gather you’re not planning on turning this into the police. What’s in it?”
“Fuck if I know. He thought Vale was up to something, something with Russians, and he got really wigged out paranoid. The last half of his journal is written in some kinda code or something, I think he was afraid Vale would find it. I can’t figure it out, but since I’m just a thieving dumbass, word puzzles are not my forte. How about you, Doctor Doom?” Flynn picked up the book and held it out towards him. “Think you can figure it out?”
Miles took the book which was still cold to touch. He’d have to remember that hiding place. “I never called you a thief or dumbass. Though if the words fit.... “ He flipped open to the back of the book and ran his gaze over the text. His own writing was atrocious and the pharmacists were always complaining, but he could read it and he’d never had any trouble deciphering Darren’s scrawl. This was fairly straight forward. “By the way, for your information, I was married for ten years. So much for your ‘never been in a relationship’ shit. What Darren and I worked out pretty early on was that nothing beats honesty. I still think you’re wrong trying to keep Aiden ignorant of what’s going on. The truth about what you’ve done in the past doesn’t compare with knowing the real you inside. That’s the person he’s forming the relationship with, not your past.”
“Thanks, Oprah.” Flynn shook his head and looked away, mainly because he felt like punching something. “You know there’s no real me inside, right? I’ve been new people since I ran away from home. Every year I become someone else. And every year, I have no idea who the fuck I am. All I know is there isn’t a lock alive I can’t break. Maybe that’s who I am. A locksmith.”
“The biggest lock you need to break is the one that’s hiding the real you. I bet if you analysed the different personnas you’ve adopted each time, underneath they’re all the same person. The names may change and the brash front that you put on, but if you were like that all the way through I would have walked out of here an hour ago. Stop the self-pity party. That’s my territory!”
“Trust me, the porn actor me had nothing in common with the short order cook me. You think, if you work hard enough, you can give yourself multiple personality disorder?”
Miles grabbed at Flynn’s crotch and gave it a squeeze. “I don’t know, I’m sure the short order cook must have had something going for him.” He grinned and stepped back before Flynn could deck him. “Lighten up, mate. You need me to prescribe some trannies or something?” Christ, why did Yanks take themselves so goddamn seriously? A little Australian bullshit detector wouldn’t go astray here. “What part of the Latin didn’t you understand in the diary? The list of weights or the numbers?”
Flynn narrowed his eyes at him. “You ever touch me again, I’ll break your fucking arm. I’m sure you think you’re being funny, but I don’t. Got it?” He scratched the side of his face, feeling stubble coming in. “I know weights, I used to date a drug dealer. But I didn’t know what the weights indicated. Not pot or coke, that much I know.”
“Stan said something to me once about the weights not adding up. Do you mind if I take a look at this for a while and see if I can make some sense out of it?” Miles grinned at the young man beside him. Maybe Flynn liked to call people names. He liked to liken people to different dog types. This one was a real Blue Heeler. He’d owned one of those once. All bark, no bite.
“Take the fucking thing. Just hide it well. Vale trashed Riley’s place looking for it. He even looked in the freezer, or at least I’m pretty sure he did, he just didn’t look hard enough.” Flynn paused briefly. “I don’t know what he is, beyond a psycho, but he doesn’t actually think like a thief. I think ... he thinks he’s untouchable. As much as he wanted to find this, it doesn’t bug him. You and me poking around after Riley doesn’t seem to bother him. He feels ... safe. I wouldn’t be so eager to trust the cops even if I was you. Why does he feel so safe?”
“Okay, you’ve convinced me I won’t go to the police. If he really is a psycopath then he’s convinced himself he’s in the right so why should he fear people. The only person who would care whether I lived or died is Roofie. Perhaps you’re the one who should be worried. There’s a young man in there who makes you vulnerable. Watch him.” Miles pocketed the diary and walked to the door.
“You don’t think I’m trying? I can’t be everywhere at once, and he doesn’t want me to coddle him. So where does that leave me? Beyond fucked. I’d leave him if I thought it would protect him, but I don’t think that’s enough.”
“I’ll go now. I might as well talk to the door here. You’re not listening, mate. Talk to him. You’re not doing him any favors by keeping him in the dark.” Miles opened the door. “Don’t be surprised if Aiden feels pretty down when he wakes. If he got slipped some MDMA, depression when the high finishes is pretty much the norm. Have fun. Oh, and by the way, don’t forget to feed the dog.” He grinned and turned on his heel.
“He knows and it doesn’t help. You don’t know Aiden,” Flynn told him, then closed the door. Fuck it. It didn’t matter.
Any way you sliced this, they were still pretty fucked.
Haven Falls #169 -- Coming... to Blows
Carter ‘Gil’ Gillespie and Lyle Ashley Tate
with mention of Flynn Archer and Miles Sutherland
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“Let me get this straight.” Gil struggled to put into words what he was thinking. “You were born into a female body...but you feel you ought to be male, right?”
“I am male,” Lyle replied tersely, “I got swindled over the body thing.” The other man had tensed up, Gil could see it in his muscles as well as hear it in his voice.
“Okay, you have a female body...” Gil had paused, considering. Lyle had looked very unhappy about that comment. Gil knew he was taking a risk with it all, but he was desperate to understand.
“Damn it, Carter, I want us to fuck, not play 20 questions!”
“Lyle, I’m sorry, I don’t know how to behave...”
“Normally, that’s how!” Lyle was clearly exasperated.
“But if I can’t touch your...bits and bobs, where does that leave me?”
Lyle sighed. Gil was determined to drag this out, oblivious to the hurt he was causing. It was frustrating, because he had thought the man understood. Stupidly he had hoped that they could have a real date, a pleasant night together, establish a true friendship. He had no particular desire to become, instead, Gil’s latest science project. He tried not to sound too angry as he responded. “I thought you got it, when we spoke at my place.”
“Look, Lyle, I’m sorry but I want to understand what you need and this is completely out of my realm of experience. I was seeing a female wanting to change into a man but its not like that, is it? Nobody round here thinks of you as anything other than a man, not to my knowledge anyway. You’ve always felt you were male, I see you as male. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Gil reached out to slip his hand around the back of Lyle’s neck.
Instead of its intended message of understanding, Gil’s unwelcome commentary had ignited Lyle’s fuse. The flash of anger was so intense it robbed him of the ability to form coherent sentences. The vigour with which he knocked Gil’s hand away was eloquent enough to give Gil his message, though—back off now or regret it.
“Lyle...I’m sorry!” Gil had been contrite but it wasn’t enough to placate. He had ploughed on, “I’m just scared I’m going to say or do something wrong, that’s all. Looks like I already have but I can’t help it if I don’t understand! I want to help...”
“I don’t need your ‘help’. I’m not a charity case, Gil, and I don’t need your pit
y either!” Lyle had growled, thrusting his face into Gil’s and staring him down. “I just wanted us to fuck, two guys who like each other and want to have sex!” All Lyle’s pent up frustration went into his response. Abruptly he grabbed for his shirt and began to tug it on.
“And if I get it wrong, you’re straight out the door...!” Gil was getting angry now. “You’re already half way there. For God’s sake, talk to me, Lyle. It’s me who needs to be helped here, not you.”
“Then go google it and leave me the hell alone!” Lyle stood and continued to pull his shirt on.
“Lyle...please...” Gil made the mistake of reaching out again to touch the man and the next moment found himself on his back on the floor, the wind knocked out of him.
“Sod off, Gillespie!” Lyle had snarled, making to step over him as he lay prone.
Abruptly, Lyle had found himself joining Gil on the floor. Lyle was a proficient Judoka, but Gil was a paramedic used to facing down awkward and abusive patients, including the occasional one armed with something sharp. Each man vented their frustration on the other in the scuffle that ensued. It wasn’t an even match but Gil was no push over. Lyle eventually managed to subdue Gil, his whole body weight lying on top of the bigger man, holding his arms above his head. They both came to a panting halt, eyes inches from each other. Lyle could feel Gil’s swollen cock digging into his thigh.
“Please tell me that didn’t just turn you on?” Lyle had growled but Gil had shaken his head.
“Sorry, no can do, because it did.” Gil admitted. “You are so...masterful!” There was a millisecond of silence which seemed to last a lifetime before the tension broke and both men gave in to the absurdity of the situation, clinging onto each other and laughing until their sides ached. “Oh God!” Gil gasped, “I pity Flynn if he ever tries taking us both on...”
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Gil woke to the sound of traffic below the window. “Somebody’s up early,” he muttered and rolled over, to find Lyle sleeping soundly next to him. Gil tucked his body into Lyle’s warm back and slipped an arm around his waist to pull him closer, nestling his morning glory between Lyle’s butt cheeks and breathing gently over his neck, ruffling the tips of his soft, champagne-blond hair.
Lyle had stayed. Gil was glad of that. He was a gorgeously responsive lover—passionate, sensual, fervent and assertive. With luck he might coax Lyle into a repeat of last night’s gymnastics before the man headed home. Some part of Gil didn’t want Lyle to leave, despite the bruises they’d given each other, both mental and physical.
As Gil lay there holding Lyle to him, he couldn’t quite believe that he had almost driven him away with his questioning. He planted soft kisses against the nape of Lyle’s neck, idly waiting for him to wake. His mind wandered back to the previous night.
Tate had a hell of a temper on him. In fairness though, Gil admitted to himself, he’d pushed Lyle hard last night, albeit unwittingly at first. On top of the way Flynn had acted toward them at the Steele, it was fair enough that Lyle had got wound up when Gil had started asking very personal questions instead of making out.
Savouring the scent of the man he was holding—warm musk and cinnamon mixed with salt sweat and citrus—Gil remembered their joking about Lyle’s name. He was good enough to eat though, definitely sweet as sugar. He wondered whether the name would stick, long term. He figured it was a bind to change your name legally so once changed, it would be a rigmarole to go back on it.
A change in his breathing pattern suggested Lyle was waking, as did his pushing back into Gil’s lap. Remembering the previous night’s lessons, Gil stopped his hand on its journey to Lyle’s crotch and diverted it instead, running his finger round to the base of his spine. He buried his nose in Lyle’s neck and his tongue flicked out to lick beneath his ear, then he nipped the skin down to his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, just tell me as we go, okay?” Gil had conceded. It had taken Lyle throwing him to the floor for him to recognise that the time to stop talking was well past.
“Okay, okay.” Lyle had moved to get off him. “I promise I’ll try not to take offence if you do something that grates on me.” Lyle had winked then. “I’ll be expecting you to make up for it though”.
Gil had pulled Lyle back down then and planted a kiss on his lips, tongue begging admission again. Lyle had been happy to facilitate his move.
Gil had kissed him more than Lyle had expected. He was very tactile, touching and tasting all the time, at the Steele as well as privately later. The man was giving out mixed messages, even if he didn’t realise it, or chose to deny it. No point willfully misinterpreting, though, there was nothing on offer from Gil besides friendship and casual sex.
Casual sex... there was a fine joke. There was nothing casual about it for Lyle. Coming home with Gil, staying with him overnight, letting him fill his ass with his cock, that had been a big decision. Was it ‘gender-appropriate’ to be attaching so much emotion to the idea that Gil had given him his first experience of anal sex? Couldn’t a bloke be sentimental about his first proper sex too, though?
Lyle cringed inwardly with that last thought. It felt like he was being disloyal to his husband, Richard. He couldn’t dismiss what they’d had and how they had been together, no matter what the sex had been like. Gil was his first since Richard’s death as well as being the first to claim him man-to-man, and that was a whole different wheelbarrow full of issues.
Last night had been a carousel of emotions - so many ups and downs that Lyle had been ready at various times to throw up. His toys had been thrown out of his pram more than once. This morning, lying quietly in Gil’s embrace, feigning sleep, he had chance to consider everything carefully.
He’d done a lot of posturing and growling last night. He’d been a complete tosser at some points. Dumping Gil on his ass was not the best thing he had ever done. He’d been so focused on the mechanics of getting himself deflowered that he’d lost parts of himself in the process. He didn’t regret his choices, Gil had proven to be a kind, respectful and enthusiastic lover, much better than he had anticipated, but it was saddening to think they probably wouldn’t ever get it together again once he left his house today.
Having sex with Lyle without touching his nipples or crotch had proved quite demanding for Gil. He’d had to think about what he was doing rather than running with blind instinct and habit. Trouble was, Gil liked to come at things from a position of knowledge and hooking up with someone who was transgendered had been wildly outside of his experience. He desperately didn’t want to appear lacking and his questioning had been motivated by his need to appear knowledgeable. Problem was, this time it had almost lost him his chance with Lyle. Not going to make that mistake again, Gil thought. His teeth grazed the skin of Lyle’s shoulder and he sucked, hard enough to mark. If that didn’t wake him, not much would.
Gil stroked Lyle’s skin, his fingers trailing through short fair hair, across broad shoulders and down a nicely muscled back. Gil could understand Lyle’s defensiveness. He was very masculine, almost overly so. That he was having to wait to get the surgery to complete his transformation seemed unfair to Gil now that he understood the man better.
Gil’s touch was very welcome. To Lyle’s relief, Gil had learnt last night how to be with him without causing consternation. It wasn’t just that he had broken him so gently to the realities of safe anal sex, but that he had tried so hard to look after him emotionally as well. In the process Gil had touched his heart too, though Lyle knew better than to hope for any regular arrangement with Gil. Although he had professed that he wasn’t looking for a relationship, it was obvious that Gil still cared about who he was with. There was nothing careless in Gil’s casual sex.
Giving up his masculine virtue to Gil hadn’t been a concrete plan when he’d accepted the invitation to go to the Steele with him. Gil had startled him when he’d suggested they go together. Lyle hadn’t quite believed that they could even call it a date at first.
Gil was glad that his latest lover had eventually opened up and given him some guidance. Touching any part of Lyle that was overtly feminine was off limits, but that made sense really. Too much explanation on Lyle’s part was painful for him too, disrupting his carefully constructed and studiously maintained maleness.
Latest lover... That brought Gil up with a start. He’d been in Haven Falls just two weeks, and had already had more offers, and lovers, than he’d planned on having through the whole of the rest of his life when he had left Britain. Not the man he wanted most though. Still, if that man he wanted didn’t want him... He turned his attention back to Lyle. Lyle was here, in his bed, immediate and vital. Once again he thrust thoughts of Miles Sutherland out of the way.
Gil’s kisses elicited a moan and Lyle opened his eyes, seeing a slice of light knifing through a gap in the curtains. It was early though, plenty of time for what Gil obviously had in mind. Lyle decided to turn the tables and moved, flipping over and landing neatly on top of Gil, pinning his arms above his head again. Gil liked this new turn of events, even if the position was reminiscent of their face-off the night before. He saw the flicker in Lyle’s eyes too and chuckled.
“Morning, gorgeous.” Lyle murmured and nuzzled Gil’s neck, tongue flicking out to taste. “So, we up for a repeat performance then?”
Haven Falls #171: Old Friends
Aiden Parker, Flynn Archer, Savannah Jensen, & Henry Vale
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The sun was too bright. Far too bright, Aiden figured, and he rolled onto his stomach to block it out. His head was killing him and his stomach... he wasn’t sure what was wrong with his stomach. Maybe he was just hungry. Either way, he had a headache the size of the Pacific and he couldn’t figure out why.
“What the hell,” he groaned, and then regretted it immediately. The words echoed in his head and seemed to explode against his skull. God, he hoped it wasn’t Monday yet.