Seals of Kinney

by C G Dalton

  Seconds later, with a slicked finger pushing inside him and Boyd’s tongue still lapping his dick like a lollipop, Fisk fought not to release. “Oh god... yes... please,” he said. The hand that had cradled Boyd’s head shifted, the heel of Fisk’s palm on his forehead now, holding Boyd’s face away from his cock. The dual sensations too much for his system, it was all he could do to prolong the pleasure.

  Taking the hint, Boyd concentrated on readying Fisk. One finger became two, gave way to three, and he delighted in the way Fisk thrashed, moaned and pushed down onto his fingers wantonly. When he was certain Fisk was not only ready, but could barely stand anymore, Boyd removed them and shifted.

  Aligning their bodies, Boyd pressed himself inside Fisk’s entrance, slowly inch by inch sinking inside the velvet warmth engulfing his cock. “Fuck, Fisk, you feel so good.”

  Fisk’s legs wrapped around Boyd’s waist, arms sliding under his arms and around his back to draw him down into a rough need-filled kiss. Tilting his hips, he pressed them up, encouraging Boyd’s to rock into him as they devoured each other’s mouths.

  Long moments passed before Boyd reared up, gulping air into his lungs and beginning a faster pace as he claimed Fisk’s body fully for the first time.

  Inflamed with lust, Fisk gripped Boyd with his legs, spurring him to thrust harder and quicker still. His fingers dug into Boyd’s back, leaving pinpoint bruises the larger man would feel for days afterward.

  All it took to end them was Boyd reaching between their surging bodies and rubbing Fisk’s cock. One long single stroke and his lover came with a yelp, bucking under Boyd as he sprayed their bellies with his come. Boyd followed suit a few thrusts later, spent himself within Fisk’s trembling body.

  Boyd did not separate them right away. Still joined he lowered himself, covering his partner but supporting most of his weight on his own elbows. They kissed again, slow and sensual, as their bodies came down from the high of their orgasms.

  “That was amazing,” Boyd finally offered, slipping onto his side and snuggling into Fisk’s. “Really amazing. I can’t remember the last time it felt that good. Probably never.”

  Fisk chuckled and closed his eyes. He was feeling limp and exhausted, happy in a manner even the absurdity of their situation could not dampen. “I can barely remember the last time, period. I really needed that.”

  Laughing, Boyd dragged a blanket up over their spent bodies. “Yes, well, glad I could be of service.” They both laughed again, shifting and wriggling until they managed to both get comfortable in the single bed. A heartbeat after they were settled, both were sound asleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Colwin’s eyes opened and he froze, listening to the snuffling noises outside of the cottage. He was glad the man who built it had had a clue. The walls were sturdy, its two windows were small and rather high, from the door stout. Just the same, he was glad Boyd had braced the door. He shook his lover awake, clamping a hand over his mouth when Boyd started to speak.

  Waking unexpectedly, Boyd’s first response would have been to complain, but he knew something was wrong when Fisk effectively silenced him. It brought him to full wakefulness instantly. Sitting up, he slipped out of the bed, grabbed his gun and listened. He could hear the shuffling sounds of something large moving around the building, the soft snorting noises of the enormous seal he was now sure was out there.

  The moonlight streaming through one of the windows blacked out as a dark shape filled the space. Boyd leveled his weapon at the figure. “Seriously, McMare. I’m warning you. Back off,” he said in a loud, clear voice. The square of glass once more streamed wan light into the room.

  Boyd paced the wall, following the sound of the big seal as he waddled his way around the perimeter. “Just go back to the main island. We aren’t bothering anyone. This stalker shit is totally unnecessary.”

  There was a seal bark, much closer to an angry roar than Fisk’s, and then a loud crashing sound accompanied by splashing.

  “Oh no,” Fisk said in a quiet deadpan. He rolled his eyes when Boyd waved him quiet so he could listen for the seal.

  “I think he is leaving. Does he really have nothing better to do with his time? Seriously,” Boyd said after the sound of the seal humping over the ground outside disappeared.

  “Probably not. It’s not like Kinney is a hotbed of crime. He pretty much exists to keep us isolated since that’s the survival strategy here. He knocked over the rain barrel.”

  “What’s that accomplish? It’s not that hot, I can go a couple days without water. It hasn’t been over eighty degrees, there is shade.”

  “Maybe he just wanted to be sure you didn’t decide to stay longer. He’s trying to be unpleasant to drive you away. And yes, you can survive as much as ten days in these conditions without water, but it won’t be comfortable. Midway through the day when you’re so thirsty you can’t stand it, he’ll have made his point. Thankfully the tea kettle is mostly full. We’ll just have to ration it,” Fisk explained. It wouldn’t bother him to lose the water if he were alone. Half the time he simply ate what he caught raw while in his selkie form and got plenty of moisture that way, but this would inconvenience Boyd.

  “We’ll figure something out,” Boyd assured Fisk, dragging him back to bed. Neither fell asleep immediately, lying awake in each other’s arms for some time, just listening.

  {{{

  Having been disturbed, the pair ended up sleeping in well into the morning. When they woke, they worked off the tension of the night before, making love slow and sweet until noon. They were still in bed, languid from their activities and the summer warmth, when someone knocked. It was a soft knock, polite sounding.

  “Just a minute,” Fisk called, scrambling for his pants, as Boyd did the same.

  “Wait,” Boyd told Fisk before he could go to the door. He picked up his gun.

  “It’s not McMare, Cyril. It’s Trisha, one of the girls.” Fisk smiled, and gestured to Boyd to put the gun away.

  “How can you tell?” Boyd asked skeptically. “It could be a trap.”

  “I can smell her. And his smell is old, faded now,” Fisk said matter-of-factly.

  “You can tell who is out there by smell?”

  “Yes. My sense of smell is more like a seal’s than a man’s. It’s a survival trait for young seal pups to be able to identify and be identified by their mothers when sitting on a beach in a mass of a thousand other pups just like them,” Fisk clarified. “On land every individual has their own unique odour.”

  Boyd holstered his firearm, but he did put the holster on as Fisk went to open the door.

  “Hey, Fisk,” Trisha said coyly. She looked past the selkie at Boyd, eyes raking over him, nostrils flaring. “Wow. I guess it’s true. Are you going to invite me in?”

  “No,” Fisk said sharply. “If I wasn’t tempted before, what makes you think I would be now?”

  “Look, I just came out here because Andy is decent and trying to give you a second chance. Everyone is grumbling. They really don’t like your dirty little fling. You know I’ve always had a thing for you, Fisk. Ditch the thug and come back to the big island with me.”

  “Hello, I’m standing right here. Homophobic much,” Boyd snapped, highly irritated with the girl’s whole speech.

  The girl snorted, addressing Boyd in a condescending tone. “It’s not that you’re a bull. Do you think Fisk is the first person born in Kinney that prefers their own sex? He is still expected to produce pups. If he needs a little cock on the side, it shouldn’t be mainland scum.”

  “Goodbye, Trisha,” Fisk said through gritted teeth, slamming the door in her face.

  “Who the fuck is Andy?” Boyd asked, clearly spitting mad.

  “McMare is his last name. I’ve never liked him enough to refer to him informally. He’s bullied me since we were pups... kids.”

  Boyd pressed his palm to one eye then scrubbed his hand over his face. “So that’s his plan now? Dangle a female in front of you like bait? Does h
e think you are stupid?”

  “Of course, he does. Because he isn’t very bright. Cunning in a nasty sort of way, but not smart. He would never assume anyone might be smarter than him, and book learning doesn't count in his world,” Fisk added with a put-upon sigh.

  “I really hate this place,” Boyd muttered.

  {{{

  The rest of their day turned out to be more of the same. In the time it took one girl to motor back to the main island the next would be on her way like a relay race.

  “Fisk. How many unmarried girls are in Kinney?” Boyd asked, sounding tired. He was slouched in Fisk’s chair and about the only thing he felt good about was the amount of trust being given to him at the moment. As Colwin shooed off the hopeful female suitors, Boyd sat and watched Fisk’s hide inside the cushion his ass was parked on, safe from pilfering.

  “That last one is a widow. She’s already got two kids. Husband got caught in a cable on one of the big trawling boats. He bled out in about three minutes. Sliced into his femoral artery. I think McMare is about out of options. That’s why I wasn’t too mean when I dismissed her.”

  Fisk was wrong. McMare was not yet out of options. Boyd had to struggle not to belly laugh when the next suitor was a nineteen-year-old boy, a second cousin of Fisk’s. He was clearly embarrassed and admitted being coerced when pressed as to what he was thinking. Fisk was kind with his words when he sent young Jeremy home.

  “Poor Jerry. I didn’t even realize he was gay. What a horrible thing to do to him. That has to be the last.”

  “Good. Because if one more horny applicant appears at your door, I am going to lose it.” Boyd waved Fisk over to him, holding his arms open until he had a lapful of selkie.

  “It’s kind of insane. Cyril... did you mean it when you said you could move to the coast?” Fisk asked nervously.

  Boyd’s heart sped up. He wondered if he dared to hope the islanders had accomplished his goal for him, that they had finally driven Fisk to the point of being willing to flee. “Yes, I absolutely meant it. Fisk, I’d do just about anything to get you to come with me.”

  Fisk nodded. He couldn’t say it out loud, not yet. But Boyd had to go, and he knew he couldn’t stay here without him. Life on Kinney had finally become unbearable. There was yet another knock on the door.

  “Are you kidding me?” Boyd groaned. “Fuck. Don’t even answer it.”

  “I have to.”

  Boyd scowled. He did not like the sudden sound of defeat in Fisk’s tone or the way his shoulders slumped as he got up and went to answer his door for the eighth time that day. Who was there?

  “You too, Francine?” Fisk was looking and sounding broken as he actually let this girl inside, closing the door behind her.

  The petty blonde gave Boyd a weak smile as she walked over and sat on the stool by the hearth. “Andy didn’t ask me. He didn’t think I’d agree and didn’t want to send me anyway. He knows where my loyalty lies. I actually asked to come once I realized what they were doing.”

  “Cyril, this is Francine. Francine, CyrilBoyd. She’s my best friend. We grew up next door neighbours,” Fisk explained.

  Boyd was surprised when she smiled at him again. He instantly had a hunch she wasn’t there to sabotage them. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad to know Fisk has one ally here.”

  “Yes well... I could have been more supportive after he came back and everything happened with his mom. Cyril, you have to take him away from here. As soon as possible.”

  “Hold on, Francine,” Fisk cautioned. Yes, he’d already decided he couldn’t remain, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. As close as they had been, he didn’t know if he could trust anyone here. “I’m not making any hasty decisions based on McMare having his knickers in a twist.” He gave Boyd a look, hoping he understood.

  The disappointment that seized Boyd when Fisk sounded like he was backtracking on his plan to leave with him eased when their eyes met. Did he or did he not trust this girl? Boyd decided it was wise to take everything with a big grain of salt.

  “You don’t understand, Fisk. If you guys don’t leave they are going to kill you. You know everyone was up in arms when you had your mom taken away. Afraid she would talk to that shrink you turned her over to. For years they’ve let it go, assuming her head doctor just thinks anything she speaks is nonsense. She’s only got one skin, so it’s not like she could show them. But bringing a fed here on top of that? Yes, they’ve had it. I overheard my dad talking to Freeman. Agreeing to come back into the fold was your last chance. And they plan to kill your boyfriend either way. That’s why I went and told Andy I wanted to try. He didn’t trust me at first, till I pointed out he knew damn well I’ve always loved you and if you’d give in to anyone it would be me.”

  Fisk’s face fell. How was he going to save Boyd if the whole town wanted him dead? He fought the rising panic. “You knew I wouldn’t though. If it would have been anyone here it would have been you, Francine. But I just can’t.”

  Boyd held his peace and held his breath. He was as worried as Fisk was about getting off Kinney still breathing. But forewarned was forearmed. He sat silently and let them have their moment.

  “I know, Fisk. This was a last-ditch effort because you are a full blood. If I go back without you, they will come tomorrow and they will kill you both, burn down the cabin and hack up your remains as deep-sea bait.”

  “Personally, I think eating fish you’ve caught using parts of people as bait would virtually be cannibalism. Seriously, if you think about it—”

  “Fisk, how the hell are we going to get away?” Boyd interrupted before he could go into a lecture on either fishing or cannibals.

  “What if I don’t go back? I’ll stay here in the cottage while you two make a run for it. You just need a few hours head start to make port in Maine,” Francine suggested.

  “So what? When they find out you warned us and helped us escape, they can kill you?” Fisk asked, a tinge of hysteria in his voice.

  “They wouldn’t... would they?” Boyd asked, looking worried. He couldn’t have this girl’s fate on his conscience.

  “They might do anything. Sometimes I think the only reason I’m still alive is because they are afraid if I stop sending my mother a card every week when the mail boat is in someone will come looking. Why do you think this cottage was vacant? The fisherman that built it certainly didn’t succumb to natural causes, Cyril.”

  “You could tie me up. I’ll cry and say you rejected me too, and they’ll think you just ran away. It’s not like you don’t have good reason to get the hell out of here,” Francine countered.

  “Or you could come with us,” Boyd said slowly, watching to see how the girl reacted, hoping for clues as to whether she was really helping them, or helping set a trap.

  She hesitated just a moment, then nodded. Her only concern was she would be walking away empty-handed, but she knew she’d probably never have another chance to escape either and she trusted Fisk to help her on the mainland. “I could do that. Yes... yeah okay. I want to get off this rock and away from these people too.”

  Fisk got up and pulled a dusty messenger bag out from under his bed. He dumped the old textbooks and notes from his last semester out of it. He’d never unpacked them, always secretly wishing to go back. Bottom lip between his teeth, he stuffed a few things into it. A bundle of papers, two books, and his wallet with all his identification. Realistically, nothing else there was that important to him.

  Seeing Fisk pack, Boyd got up and did the same, throwing what clothes he had out into his half-empty duffel bag. “Alright. Let’s do this,” he said solemnly, reaching out to put a hand on Francine’s shoulder. She looked frightened. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Fisk and I will make sure you have a life away from here,” he said.

  Smiling weakly, she nodded and rose from the stool. “I think I could make it on my own even. It’s just... taking that first big step. Scary.”

  Fisk flung his arms around her briefly, before turning t
o get his skin out of the chair cushion. “If we make it to shore, everything is going to be alright.”

  “When, Fisk. When we make it to shore,” Boyd said.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The three made their way to the beach. Fisk was glad it was getting late and they might have night on their side. If they ran without lights, they would be harder to catch. He grinned when he saw Francine’s boat. In the deepening twilight he paused on the shore and began to strip, stuffing his shirt in his bag and handing it to Boyd. “Brilliant, Francine’s boat has a bigger, newer motor than mine. We are taking it. We’ll wait a few minutes till it’s dark, then we’ll be even harder to see.”

  “Fisk, what are you doing?” Boyd asked in alarm, even though it was clear what he planned. “You are not getting in the water. No. No fucking way. He’s more than twice your size.”

  “Hush. If anyone is lurking under the surface or around the curve, they’ll hear you. I’m faster and more maneuverable than McMare and most of the other bulls on the island. The boat will be quicker with only two occupants and if necessary, I can draw them off and keep you two from being sunk.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Cyril, don’t presume to tell me what to do. I appreciate the protective streak; it makes me feel loved. But I’ve been dodging these assholes at sea all my life. Trust me.” He crammed his pants in the bag and began to wriggle into his skin.

  “I want you two not to worry about me. I want you to head for shore as fast as this damn boat can go. If I have to split off to elude them, I’ll meet you on the docks in New Harbor. Don’t stop. Not for anything. Promise.”

  Angry, Boyd turned and glared at Francine, who averted her eyes from Fisk’s bare form. She blushed and shrugged. “I know he’s yours, Cyril,” she reminded him softly.

  Boyd sagged and nodded. “Sorry. Yes okay. No turning back,” he murmured. He was far more afraid of Fisk swimming with the other selkie than he was for the two of them in the boat. He felt physically sick to his stomach at the prospect. “Shit... we would have been better off in daylight. I can’t fire on shapes in the dark.”