by Willa Okati
In the meantime, Alex had to entertain himself. Folding his hands behind his back, he began to stroll around the room, looking at pictures. Definitely a nautical theme going on there. Not so many ships a-tilt at sea, though; more of peaceful green waters ebbing up onto emerald green shores. Peaceful seas.
Alex gave a quiet sigh, gazing at the serenity laid out in the pictures. He was usually a restless sort, always on the get-up-and-go, but wouldn’t it be nice to spend an afternoon on one of those seashores, preferably naked with Dylan, just basking away in the warm sunshine?
As he gazed at the picture, it became sort of ... fuzzy around the edges. Alex blinked, staring at a small painting of himself appearing here and there in the water, then bouncing off to the beach to join a tiny version of Dylan.
“Can I trust you, lover?” he heard Dylan’s voice rumble. Didn’t seem to be coming from behind him. No, the picture was talking. Okay, this was a whole new level of weird to have to handle.
Alex shook his head to clear it, but the images remained. Tiny Alex and wee Dylan were both naked by then, stretched out on the beach with their hands roaming over one another.
“Can I trust you, lover?” Dylan’s voice asked again.
Alex tilted his head. “I-I think so,” he said as his little painted self turned to Dylan in the picture. “I haven’t taken you down a wrong turn yet, have I?”
“Can I trust you, lover?”
Alex put a hand on the wall to steady himself. “You’re not going to be satisfied with anything but a straight answer, are you?” The little figures wavered, fading in and out of focus. “Yes, you can trust me.”
“Just remember that.”
There was a muted flash, and then Alex saw his tiny painted form in the waves, frolicking with a seal. Then the picture became solid again, fading back into reality as if it’d been beamed up.
Well, now. Alex took a look behind him at big Dylan, asleep on the bed. Dylan ... and seals. Alex examined the pictures more closely.
The only big thing they all had in common, he now saw, were seals. Sometimes just peeking their heads out of the water, sometimes cavorting with one another. Alex studied them. The most he knew about seals was that they had great big eyes, and women loved them. He’d have called himself more a dolphin man. He had swum with those mammals once, and what a buzz it had been. Brushing his hands along their sandpapery backs, listening to them click and whistle at each other, pretending he understood ‑‑ that had been a glorious time.
Maybe he could drag Dylan along on a vacation down to Florida sometime.
Alex stopped himself, frowning. What is going on with me? he wondered, perplexed. He wasn’t the sort to go making long-term plans, even if he had decided this wasn’t to be only one night of passion with a so-long-see-you-around kiss in the morning.
And yet he was thinking about the future. Definitely strange. Alex gave himself a little shake, and glanced at Dylan again. Mmm. If he had to go and start to fall for someone, he couldn’t have picked a better man. Absolutely edible from head to toe, starting with Dylan’s wild mop of hair, going down to his mouthwatering cock, and finishing up with his great big Godzilla feet.
“Could this be the beginning of a beautiful friendship?” He licked his lips, trying to catch the last taste of Dylan on them. “Why don’t you wake up and we’ll find out?”
“M’sleep ... lemme be ...”
“Oh, you are an old spoilsport.” Alex crossed to the bed and gave it a hearty bounce. “You’re tougher to wake up than a bear who’s hibernating for the winter. Ooh, will you growl at me if I poke you?” He experimented, then laughed when Dylan did make a snarly noise. “Tick-tock, now,” he chided. “You have five more minutes, lover.”
There really wasn’t much left in the room to investigate once Alex had looked at all the pictures, and Alex wasn’t sure he wanted a return trip to la-la land. Nice watercolors, absolutely, but once you’d been around the room, the museum tour was over unless you happened to be drunk, high, or stupid.
Dylan did have a nice, comfy chair angled to face the bed. The thought of having a seat and just enjoying himself crossed Alex’s mind again, the lure tempting him more strongly, but he pushed it aside. If Dylan didn’t wake up when he got the royal summons, though, then Alex would have to take matters into hand. So to speak.
The only thing he hadn’t checked out yet was an old sea chest sitting at the foot of Dylan’s bed. Alex hesitated to open the battered thing up. After all, there was innocent curiosity and then there was plain going too far.
“Dylan, sweetie?” he asked, approaching the chest. “Mind if I have a look in here?”
“Wha’ever you wan’...” Dylan mumbled. “Mi casa es su ...”
“You know, I think you’re faking being asleep.”
“Brat ...”
“Yes, I am, and you’d better not forget it. I’m talking about the sea chest, bartender. Can I have a peek at what’s inside?”
Dylan grumbled and threw his arm over his forehead.
“Good enough.” Sinking down on his knees, Alex examined the trunk. Looked old, like it had seen years of hard use, probably on board an actual ship. Lots of scars and dents. No name or brass plate, though. Nicely anonymous. Something David, Mr. Antiques himself, would undeniably like to check out. In fact, hadn’t he heard David mentioning a trunk lately ...?
As he got nearer, however, Alex wrinkled his nose. Ugh! The faint smell of fish! But beyond that ... the trunk had a definite salty odor to it, a little like Dylan, a lot like the sea. Positively pungent. Earthy, too, like rawhide. Now what in heaven’s name could Dylan be storing in there?
Alex flipped the chest open ...
... and blinked.
Well, of all the things I expected to see ... Frowning, he got a double handful of sleek black hair and pulled, standing up as the object stretched on and on. What the hell was this, a seal skin? Oh, God, it had a head and everything! Alex shuddered ... but couldn’t quite make himself put the thing down. His fingers tingled in the thick black hair, almost the way they had in Dylan’s curls.
“Well,” he murmured. “Now I know what you are, don’t I? Smells like the sea, comes from the sea ... selkie. I’ll be damned.” He grinned. “This is beyond cool!”
Alex swung the skin around himself like a cape. The inside was dried, if not cured, so it itched. But what the hell? He barked like a seal and waved his arms. No response, so he decided to tease. “Dylan, look! Who knew you were a collector? I might have expected a pyramid of beer bottles, but you’re a real sea chantey, aren’t you?”
Still nothing.
Laughing to himself, Alex leaned over and brushed Dylan’s leg with one edge of the hairy pelt.
The effect was, in short, electric.
Dylan shot up out of bed and was on his feet, staring wildly. “Who the fuck is touching my skin?” he demanded, shaking his head. “Hell! My head ...” He turned to stare at Alex. “Take it off! Take it off right now! Right now, do you hear me?”
“Jesus.” Alex began to peel off the fur. “Overreact, why don’t you? It’s just a pelt.” Playing the teasing game by rules he made up as he went along, he acted innocent as the driven snow. “If you’re afraid I’m going to turn you in for having one of these, don’t worry. We all have our dirty little secrets.”
“Alex, fuck, no, you can’t just ...” Dylan dragged his hands through his hair. “That’s ... mine. Put it back in the chest and close the lid. Please.”
Alex raised an eyebrow but did as he’d been told. The skin felt even more silky as he folded it back into its storage area, the hairs brushing against his skin as if the seal it had belonged to was still alive and was frisky. Nice. Creepy, but nice.
He gave the skin a pat before standing up with a lazy stretch. “So, it’s good to see you’re finally awake. What kept you dreaming for so long? I’ve been all over your room. And did you know you talk in your sleep?”
Dylan winced. “Oh, God. What did I say? Fuck, fuck
, fuck. There’s a reason I don’t let men sleep over, I swear, but you were just so tempting that I ... what did I say?”
“Nothing important. Something about Liam that I didn’t get. You mostly just mumbled.” Alex took a step backward, his spine buzzing. He hadn’t pegged Dylan for the violent type despite his size, but the big man was now so frenzied, he didn’t exactly feel safe. “Just calm down, okay? I haven’t hurt anything.”
“You don’t know how close you came.” Dylan came over to thump the chest shut and sat on the lid. He looked just as delectable in his agitation as he had when he was being teasing with the food. Alex’s heart gave a thump. If he thought it would be a good idea, he’d go and try to relax the man down with a good back rub. A nice massage, maybe leading to a more horizontal position, and then on to the party.
“Alex, never, never touch that skin again.” Dylan jumped up and grabbed Alex’s hand in both of his, dry and rough flesh against soft and smooth. “That’s a part of my past I don’t need to remember. I’ve put it behind me, and I have to move on.”
“It’s a seal skin, Dylan. Unless you were some kind of great white hunter, clubbing animals to death, how bad could it be? For all I know you bought this on eBay. Is that it? Are you ashamed of a little spending spree?” Impulsively, Alex whisked the chest open again and wound his free hand in the pelt. “Feels so soft, just like it’s alive.”
“It is. Alive, I mean.”
“You know, you can tell me the truth,” Alex said softly, letting his fingers run through the seal fur. “I get it. I do. I know what you are. I figured it out from the pictures, and from the stories I grew up hearing. But it’s okay, right? It’s not like you had to keep this a secret from me.” He glanced up. “Did you?”
Dylan swallowed. “Look, Alex, you’ve been one of the best at accepting everything Amour Magique can throw at you. But that skin ... it belongs to me. Do you know what I’m saying? It. Is. Mine. Not just something I own. I wasn’t ready for you to meet that part of me yet. Now that you have ...”
Alex frowned. “Are you saying that because I know, things have changed?”
“They have, but ... damn it!” Dylan rubbed a hand across his face. “It’s a part of my life I’m not ready to get into yet.”
“You were plenty ready to get into a lot of other things,” Alex said archly. “Sex is fine, but this is the line you won’t cross?”
“Don’t let this come between us, Alex.” Dylan shut the lid again. “I chose a life on the land. The seas aren’t what they used to be, and there’s no safe place for a seal anymore.”
“Selkie, I think you mean.”
“Semantics. Fuck! You know what I’m trying to say. I didn’t want to tell you until later. You know I’m not human, Alex, just a good imitation. If I wear that skin, there’d be a seal right here on this floor.”
Alex narrowed his eyes. ‘So do it, then.”
“What?”
“Do it, I said. I’m an open guy. I want to see you change. Put it on.”
“No! I mean, sweet Jesus, we just met.”
“Oh, lover, I think we did a lot more than meet. I’d say we’re good acquaintances by now. So put it on for me.”
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Alex, I had this whole night planned out. More sex ... more food ... more sex ... I was going to ride you until the sun came up in the morning. If you get all stubborn and mule-headed now, I’ll have to spank you or something.”
“I should be so lucky.” Alex stood up, twitching his hips. He reached for his pants where they’d landed on the floor.
“Oh, come on, Alex.”
“Nope, bartender. We play this my way or not at all.” Alex stepped into the pants and pulled them up, frowning at the way the spot with the dried jism itched. He looked exactly like the fact he’d come in his pants, which was a shame. When he put on his shirt he left it unbuttoned to camouflage the area.
Dylan sat back with his arms folded over his chest, looking mutinous. “You’re not being fair. And while you might be one hell of a sex kitten, I don’t just bend over backward for anyone. Respect my choice to leave the past in the past, or get the hell out of my room.”
“What does it look like I’m doing, sugar?” Alex flipped the tails of his shirt at the other man. “If you change your mind, you can come find me. I’m not leaving Amour Magique until dawn. Until then, I plan to have me a fine ol’ time.”
“How the hell are you even going to find your way back to the main floors?”
Alex lifted Dylan’s pants and tugged out the chain full of keys. “The same way I got in.”
Dylan got up and lunged for him. “Oh, Christ, Alex, don’t!”
“Sorry, sweetie.” Alex darted for the door, turned the knob, and bolted into the hallway, betting that Dylan wouldn’t follow him naked. And, oh, yes, right there was one of the dark shadows. He sorted through for the weird flat key, and stuck it into the pool of blackness.
It opened into a yawning oval. “Perfect,” Alex said smugly, tossing the keys behind him.
He heard Dylan scrambling from the room. Turning his head, he saw the man ‑‑ selkie ‑‑ still struggling into his clothes. “Alex, don’t. Please. You go through one of the portals, and there’s no telling where you’ll end up. I won’t even be able to trace you.”
“Then you’ll just have to find me the old-fashioned way, won’t you?” Alex frowned. “That is, if you decide to straighten up and face yourself ‑‑ and trust me.” His anger burned bright at the words. Hadn’t they been through the whole faith in him issue before, in the pictures? Fuck Dylan. “I can take you on. See you around, bartender.”
Taking a deep breath, Alex stepped forward into the portal. He felt a hiss, a rushing wind, and then ‑‑ pure freefall.
He lifted his arms, screaming silently with glee, and waited to see where he would land this time.
Chapter Six
Much to Alex’s disappointment ‑‑ although really not to his surprise ‑‑ the portal deposited him smack in the middle of yet another crowded bar on the fringes of the main dance floor. Once again blocking a TV, damn it. The patrons sent up a chorus of boos and hisses, one man standing up and yelling, “Get that fucking thing out of the way!”
Alex scrambled to one side, but the black oval remained in place. “What, you’re not done with me yet?” he asked the non-entity. “Close already. I’m here. Wherever here is.”
“I believe one would say that here is the point of no return, or perhaps the opposite,” a familiar voice remarked. “If you wish to know, the portal is in a state of dormancy. It requires a key, or a touch of magic, to make it close.”
“Liam, thank God.” Alex rushed to the sweet little man’s side, where he sat placidly on a bar stool drinking something alarmingly green. “If anyone can help me out, it’s you. Close the damn thing, would you?”
Liam arched an eyebrow. “If, in exchange, you explain to me why you opened one. I had thought you were getting along so well with your shenanigans tonight.” He slid off the stool and walked to the portal. Petting the insubstantial edges, Liam crooned to the opening. “Yes, yes, you have done well. Go along, now, until you are called for again. No, wait. Do not go far. You may be needed sooner than some of us think.”
The portal wavered, for all the world like a small child who had one finger stuck in his mouth, not sure what he should do.
“Scoot,” Liam scolded. “We will call you when we are ready for you. Have no fear. You did your job well.”
Rippling once more, the portal disappeared. The ragged choir of jeers and raspberries died down to a disgruntled rumbling. Ignoring the men who could finally get back to watching their show of choice ‑‑ figure skating? ‑‑ Liam hopped back up onto his seat and patted the bar stool next to him. “Do have a seat, Alex. Tell me about your troubles.” He passed a hand over his forehead. “I sense that something bothers you very much. Alas, I had thought you would be one of the easy Brothers. Perhaps I was wrong. I do seem to be losing my grip
...”
Concern overcame Alex’s pique at Dylan. “Sweetie, are you okay?” He reached over to put the back of his hand against Liam’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”
Liam waved him aside. “Leave me be. It does not matter at the moment.”
“How many of those drinks have you had?” Christian demanded. “Too many for you to take some aspirin?”
“Ha! Aspirin does no good to one of my kind. I have a remedy waiting for me that merely needs a little brewing time.”
“Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble?”
“In a sense.” Liam toyed with a basket of broken crackers, then pushed it toward Alex. “From the smear of pineapple juice on your cheekbone, I would suspect you are not hungry, but would you care for some of these? They are bland but appealing in their own way, much like me.”
“You? Bland? That’ll be the day, and one I hope I never see.” Alex got himself arranged on the stool and hooked his legs around its rungs. “Can you do anything about dried come stains?”
“I can recommend several excellent dry cleaners.”
“Very funny.” Alex made a face. He plucked up a crispy fragment of cracker and popped it into his mouth. “Dear Lord! Salty!”
“Have some of this.” Liam passed his green drink over. “The two tastes mix very well.”
“What is it, a lime margarita?” Alex took a sip, expecting tequila and salt. Instead, he tasted something fruity and sweet, without a hint of alcohol. It took away the salty sting, but at the same time it made his throat feel thick. “Good God, what is this? Pure fruit juice with about ten cups of sugar per serving?”
Liam chuckled, shaking his head. “One needs to refuel oneself. Sugar is a quick booster. The bartenders here at Amour Magique are excellent at mixing and serving up exactly what one needs.” He gave Alex a sharp look. “Something I suspect you already know.”
“Oh, Lord. You know what? I’m not going to ask how you got the 4-1-1 on Dylan and me.”
“Ah, yes, Dylan. I was amused by your choice. The grapevine around here is remarkable, giving me the wherewithal to know precisely whom you had wandered off with. The price for that Full-Body Special, by the way, is going to leave me a poor man for days.”