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    Libby Drew
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Gay Authors 2009 Novella Contest Entry

State of Mind - 12. Chapter 12

Aleck trudged up the steps from the beach to the boardwalk. The weathered planks followed the curve of the dune over the hill and down the other side. Scrub brush thrived above the tide line, growing in scattered clumps. Aleck squinted, but all he could see was the very top of the beach house roof. At the shoreline, even that wasn't visible. Amelia and Henri had given them the perfect hiding place.

Each day his stamina improved, and Grier had used what gifts he possessed to speed Aleck's recovery further. His efforts had made a significant difference. The flesh around the wound was already pink with new scar tissue, and Aleck's strength was returning by the hour. It fed his restlessness; his short morning walk had turned into a three-mile run. Not the wisest decision he'd ever made. His side was tender, and his body, accustomed to days of lethargy, ached. But, damn, he felt good. Wincing at the pull in his hamstrings, he fell into a series of stretches.

Lost in his thoughts, he missed Grier's approach. "What are you doing?" Grier glared his disapproval.

"Stretching."

"Why?"

"Critical after exercise." The bastard didn't crack a smile. "Relax. I just took a short run."

The chastisement he expected never came. Grier's eyes ran the length of his body, then away. He stared out toward the ocean, frowning. "How do you feel?"

"Great. Ready for breakfast." Aleck started up the boardwalk toward the house. The twinge in his hip grew to a sting, but he ignored it. Grier fell in beside him, his agitation so plain that Aleck stifled a laugh. "What's up?"

"What do you mean?"

They reached the rear deck and Aleck went straight for the outdoor shower. He sank onto the bench, stifling a groan. Taking the weight off his legs was more of a relief than it should've been. No more sitting around. There'd be running every day until he was back in shape. Toeing off his sneakers and socks, he asked, "Something on your mind?"

Grier folded his arms over his chest. "You've fulfilled your end of the bargain."

"Yeah?" Aleck took in the defensive stance, then pulled his shirt off and ducked under the showerhead. Icy water drenched his face and hair. He stepped out of the spray and shook off the loose droplets. "Got a towel?" He swiped a hand over his face, rubbing the moisture out of his eyes.

"No."

"Huh." With that, Aleck made for the house.

Grier caught up as he was stepping through the sliding door. His fingers clamped around Aleck's arm. Not an easy feat as Aleck was still slick with water and perspiration. "Did you hear me?" he asked.

"Loud and clear. You're leaving." With exaggerated patience, Aleck unpeeled Grier's fingers. "Good luck." He ducked into his bedroom for another t-shirt, then into the kitchen for coffee. Grinding the beans, filling the pot, and flipping the switch took a few minutes. Aleck used the mindless task to cool his temper. Grier had been aloof for days, avoiding him. And now this? He couldn't even say goodbye like a normal person?

Impassive, Grier stood in the middle of the living room, eyes glued to the pile of sand Aleck had tracked in. Still pumped from his run, spoiling for a fight, Aleck slid up behind him. "Need help packing?"

Grier scuffed his toe through the sand. "Aleck—"

"Are you one of those people who always leaves something behind when they go?" One more step brought them within inches of each other. Fascinated, Aleck watched goose bumps erupt over Grier's neck. "No way, right? Too organized. Bet you put your name on all your stuff when you were a kid." Motivated by Grier's sharp breath, he swayed closer. He'd told himself he wasn't going to push. Or beg. But, damn it, he was tired of being ignored. "Bet you never lose anything," he whispered, then pressed his mouth to the side of Grier's neck, breathing in deeply.

Grier spun, wrenching Aleck's arm and shoving him against the back of the sofa. The momentum would've carried him over, but Grier caught a handful of his t-shirt, suspending him off-balance.

"Enough," Grier said. He gave Aleck a shake. "Do you understand?"

"No." He tried to yank away, and one of the seams in his shirt gave with an audible rip. The tendons in Grier's arms bulged, but otherwise he didn't react. Aleck growled low in his throat, days of resentment surging to the surface. "I don't understand. Did you forget how to fuck?"

"Did you remember you liked to?" Grier fired back.

"Isn't that obvious?"

"No! Nothing is obvious." Grier released him and Aleck tipped backward onto the cushions. "Except that you don't seem to care that your plan is going to get you killed. You're walking into a trap." He leaned forward, bracing himself on either side of Aleck's legs. "Damn it! This isn't my battle."

For several seconds, their harsh panting filled the room. Then Aleck threw an arm over his eyes and laughed. "Jesus, is that what you're afraid of?" He tucked in his legs and rolled off the couch, pointing at Grier once he was back on his feet. "I know where you stand, okay? You want to go? Then fucking go. That's your choice, and I respect it. But I'm making a different one." His tone softened. "You don't have to like it. Honestly, I don't give a shit whether you do or not." A couple of deep breaths calmed him further. "Are we clear?"

"You're going to die."

Aleck gave a grim smile. "You don't have much faith in me, do you? But anyway," he said, interrupting Grier's reply, "if that's what you think, then shouldn't you be willing to grant a dying man his last wish?"

"That's not the slightest bit funny," Grier said. His hands curled into tight fists.

"Okay, I'm sorry." Aleck edged around the couch. "Listen." He swallowed. "I got my information. You got your training. We're even."

"You got shot."

Aleck threw him a lopsided smile. "Oh, that's right. Totally forgot." He advanced, ignoring how Grier raised a hand in warning. Like that was going to stop him. "I guess we're not even." He grabbed Grier's hand out of the air and twisted, forcing it down. His turn. "You're leaving. I get it. I understand." He lifted his hands to Grier's neck, curling them around his throat while he stroked his thumbs across his mouth. He recalled the last time they'd been so close, in Grier's apartment. What he'd wished for then, he craved now. "Have we talked enough?"

Grier's breath caught. He'd made the connection. His hands pushed into Aleck's hair, clamping him in place. Still, the kiss was brutal enough to snap Aleck's head back and take the strength out of his knees. Boneless, he invited Grier to feast on his mouth and threw the doors to his mind wide open. A wave of lust rushed out.

When it connected, Grier's body jolted. He pushed Aleck away with a strangled shout. One hand flew to press against the erection tenting his pants. With the other, he pointed toward the bedrooms. "Finally," Aleck breathed. Grier advanced, and Aleck shuffled backward toward the hallway. "Which—"

Grier captured him for another rough kiss, then propelled him through the nearest door and tipped him onto the mattress. Aleck grinned. "Your room, then?" he asked, but his next words devolved into a moan when Grier, now shirtless, fell across him. He brushed their mouths together, nipping at Aleck's lower lip, before dipping to lick his neck.

A touch of anger colored his touch; he attacked with sharp teeth, his fingers ringing Aleck's wrists with enough pressure to bruise. Aleck met his desperation, arching into the bites and writhing just to feel Grier's grip turn punishing.

He protested when Grier released him. Until those hands scratched down his arms and over his chest to thumb his nipples. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Aleck babbled in a hoarse whisper when Grier's tongue followed a similar path and sunk into the hollow of his sternum. His mouth was dry, his shorts damp. Frantic, he rutted against Grier's stomach.

For the first time in a week, the cell phone rang.

"No," Aleck whimpered.

Grier dropped his head to Aleck's chest. When the phone buzzed again, he lifted himself off to grab it. A check of the caller ID set him cursing. "Grier?" Aleck asked.

"It's the service."

"Of course it is. Fuck!" Still edging, Aleck smoothed a hand over the front of his shorts, pressing the nylon flat against his erection.

With uncharacteristic discomposure, Grier fumbled for a pen, dropped it, then tried to write with the wrong end. "You have a message for me?" he barked.

Aleck couldn't make out the answer.

"Yes," Grier snapped, scribbling down a number. "I have it. Thank you." He flipped the phone shut.

"Keev?"

"Who else?" Grier pressed the speaker button, then dialed. Keev picked up on the first ring. His voice exploded through the phone with a mass of crackling static.

"About fucking time."

"Calm down." Grier jerked his pants higher on his hips. "I was busy."

"Don't even think about finishing that sentence." Keev spat a litany of curses. "I don't want the details of your disgustingly vanilla sex play. Wait, yes I do. Just not right now."

Aleck stretched to run his bare toes up Grier's leg.

                                                       

"If," Keev continued, "for no other reason than to hear how Aleck begs for it like a ten-dollar whore."

"Hey, I thought you liked me now," Aleck said.

"Did I call you a five-dollar whore? No, I did not."

Grier set the phone on the nightstand and crawled across the mattress, bending his fingers around Aleck's cock. Aleck arched into the touch with a low groan. "What do you want, Keev?" Grier asked.

More static, then, "I've some news for you."

"Not good, I take it."

"I see fraternizing with Aleck hasn't damaged your IQ. Yet."

"Get to the point, please."

"You're not going to like it."

"Keev—" Grier warned.

"Do you remember that group we spoke of the last time we met?"

Grier pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you being cryptic on purpose?"

"I'll take that as a yes. Guess what? It doesn't exist."

That got Aleck's attention. "That's good, isn't it?"

"I suppose that depends. I had dinner with Graviel a few nights ago. Oh, and someone who insinuated she'd taken a shot at you recently, Grier. Ring a bell?"

"Blonde lady?"

"Blonde, anyway. Afterward, I had an enlightening talk with my father. There were the usual protestations of his superiority, etcetera." Keev sighed. "Would you like the short version?"

"Any version would be appreciated," Grier said, toying with Aleck's navel.

"The splinter faction of Gifteds is my father's invention. Created to discredit Graviel and undermine the Organization."

Grier froze. His eyes locked on Aleck's. "Go on."

"He's bent on destroying Graviel. Well, those weren't his exact words, but read it how you like. He hinted at some sort of amnesty for any agent willing to see things his way."

"There won't be many," Aleck said, shaking his head.

Keev snorted. "You weren't at the same dinner table I was. But if you're the poster child for Graviel's pack of puppets, then you could be right. It'll be a slaughter of idealistic fools."

"What will be a slaughter?" Aleck asked.

Bypassing the question, Keev said, "Things haven't been going well for Graviel lately. His two favorite boys have run off, have you heard? And his operations are being thwarted left and right by this splinter group. He's quite desperate."

"Roman's manipulation is unbelievable," Grier muttered. "Only the strictest level of planning and skill would've fooled Graviel."

Keev hummed his agreement. "It is impressive, isn't it? If it weren't so damn evil, I'd congratulate the bastard. Not that Graviel isn't culpable. He's made some dirty deals since this began and long before that as well. I'm sorry, Aleck, but he's not the paragon of virtue you believe him to be."

"Somehow I doubt you're sorry," Aleck said.

"I am. In a way, it feels like—" Keev fell silent for a long time. "The point is, he's still a bastard in my book, but not the demon recent events have made him out to be." He paused. "There's more."

Grier met Aleck's worried gaze, but didn't speak.

"My father has tricked the Organization into arranging a… I don't even know what to call it. An all-hands meeting? Graviel, the Directorate, and all their toy soldiers on one side of the table. His people on the other."

Aleck sat up. "What for?"

"Oh Aleck, please tell me you're not that naïve."

"You're underestimating Graviel's powers, as well as the Directorate's," Aleck said. "Not to mention the Organization's Gifteds. They won't be so easy to kill."

"I wish I shared your optimism. My father's leaving very little to chance. The numbers won't be as even as you'd like to think. And even Graviel can defend himself against so many enemies at once."

Grim, Aleck asked, "When?

"Three days from now. Friday. We're still waiting on the details."

"Will you be there?" Grier asked.

A caustic chuckle drifted through the static. "Oh yes."

"Whose side are you on?" Aleck ignored Grier's sharp look.

Keev laughed. "Mine, of course. But," he sobered, "I won't bear witness to a massacre." Aleck saw the ghost of a smile pass over Grier's face. "So there you have it," Keev said. "It does promise to be exciting. Think about joining the party, why don't you." The last traces of amusement faded from his voice. "I can't say I wouldn't be happy to have you two at my back."

Grier answered before Aleck did. "We'll be in touch."

There was no promise in Grier's words, no hint of agreement. Keev heard it too. "Take care of yourself, Grier," he said, and Aleck heard the farewell clearly.

"You too." Grier disconnected the call.

Aleck's head spun. "You'd leave him. Your best friend."

"Keev's not helpless. I believe he can take care of himself." Grier tossed the phone onto the table.

Aleck watched it skid across the surface and thunk onto the floor. "I used to believe a lot of things."

The phone call banked their desperation. Grier stood and stalked out of the room, and Aleck fell back onto the pillow, processing the new information. He nibbled his lip as he plotted. The logistics of infiltrating the meeting would be complicated. He could only put so much faith in Keev; he'd have his own problems.

Aleck opened his mouth when Grier returned, a question on his lips, but the bottle of oil in Grier's hand chased it way. "Good thinking," he said, and Grier's eyes narrowed at his casual tone.

"Hardly ideal, but it'll do."

"I'm sure—"

Grier shed his pants and underwear in one movement.

"—it will," Aleck said.

"Changed your mind?"

In answer, Aleck shimmied his shorts over his hips, and Grier took over from there, sliding them off in one smooth movement before crawling back up Aleck's body to mouth his reawakened cock. "Jesus," Aleck whispered. He bucked up, as much to feel Grier's weight on his legs as to push down his throat. Grier didn't protest, even when Aleck's control broke and he clamped his hands onto Grier's head and fucked up into his mouth.

It couldn't last, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let it end like this. Aleck fought for enough control – just a bit more, one more thrust – then scrambled away, a whimper on his lips when he felt himself tipping toward climax. "Stop."

"No stopping." Grier lifted onto his knees, then curled one arm around each of Aleck's thighs and yanked, spreading them wide as he dragged Aleck back. Oil splashed between them. Grier pushed Aleck's knees to his stomach and curled over him. His teeth tugged at the tender skin of his throat. "Hard? Fast? How do you want it?"

"Fuck," Aleck wheezed. "Don't know. I'm not— Just do it."

Grier stilled. He lifted his head and studied Aleck's expression.

"Don't overanalyze." Aleck squirmed beneath him. "Come on."

It took Grier another several heartbeats to move. More oil spilled onto Aleck's thighs, and he gasped when Grier's hand spread it over his balls and cock. Lost in a haze of lust, he didn't react at first when Grier straddled him. "Wait, what—"

"Shut up."

Grier planted one palm on Aleck's chest. He reached back with the other, guiding Aleck inside him. Aleck's few sexual experiences were ancient, but he remembered enough to keep still until told otherwise. Screwing his eyes shut helped, but when Grier began to spew lewd comments and rock backward, he gave up and snapped his hips up, driving deep.

"Fucking hell," he rasped, unable to rip his eyes from Grier's toned body riding him. Grier's mouth fell open with every thrust, and when he threw his weight forward, setting both hands on Aleck's chest, taking complete control, Aleck knew the end was close. He had just enough pride left to wrap both hands round Grier's neglected cock and take up the same punishing tempo.

His battered dignity got a boost when Grier's breath whooshed out of him. "Aleck," he panted, then threw his head back and came, grunting with each powerful spasm. With a final shudder, he dropped forward and Aleck grabbed his hips, bucking up twice more before losing himself in his own climax.

Grier rolled away, but returned before Aleck could work up enough energy to verbalize the where the hell are you going that was stuck in his throat. A warm, wet cloth skimmed away most of the mess. Even sleepy and sated, Aleck sensed the cursory nature of the task. "Forget that," he muttered, seizing the cloth. It hit the floor with a splat. "Come here."

Grier stretched out beside him, silent. Waiting.

"I'm going," Aleck said. He whispered it, hoping to temper Grier's anger, at least for now, because he didn't need enmity or repudiation. What he craved was more visceral: blunt fingernails marking his skin; a strong, angular body holding him down; a hot, wet mouth on his cock. Two weeks ago, that need had been a thousand miles away. Frivolous. Today it was crucial, begot from a thousand shattered misconceptions.

He wrapped Grier in a tight embrace, and whispered again, "I have to."

For all of Grier's quietude, he wasn't relaxed. Taut as a bowstring, he laid in Aleck's arms.

"And thanks," Aleck said, nudging his nose against Grier's throat. "For this. I—" He stopped, frustrated. The words that wanted to come weren't right, so like Grier, he fell back on silence.

Above them, the ceiling fan turned, throwing a light breeze, and Aleck pulled at the sheet he'd tossed to the side, slipping it up over their legs to their shoulders. Grier shivered, still mute. What are you going to do? Aleck wanted to ask. Where are you going to go? Self-serving questions, and unreasonable, to be honest. No matter how things shook out with the Organization, Grier wanted a clean break. A new life. It was a fair thing to ask for.

But that was tomorrow.

Aleck slid a hand down Grier's back, dipping his fingers into the crease of his ass, and finally Grier moved, pushing back against the probe. Aleck withdrew. "Nope. Want something different." He coaxed one of Grier's hands lower over his own back, then lower, and a strangled moan rang from Grier's throat, vibrating against Aleck's shoulder. His fingers clenched into Aleck's flesh. "Please," Aleck murmured.

"Why?"

The muffled question threw him. He retreated far enough to look Grier in the eye. "I want it. Afraid I'll break?"

"No. What I meant was, why are you going?"

Aleck swallowed his angry retort. "I've already said."

"You declared your intention to go. You didn't say why."

You know why. But he bit back the words, considering.

He wanted to destroy Roman. To help Keev. To find out once and for all what kind of man Graviel was. The last point wouldn't decide the fate of the world, but it would determine Aleck's future. Years were at stake, almost half of his life. He needed to know, for certain, what he'd been fighting for.

"For completely selfish reasons," he admitted. "For me."

For a long time after that, they didn't speak. Grier rolled Aleck beneath him and pressed in with his fingers. Soon he'd crossed an arm over Aleck's chest, pinning him to the mattress while Aleck thrashed against his hand. "Is this what you wanted," Grier hissed, twisting and pumping.

Aleck gasped for enough air to speak. "Not exactly." He bucked against the restraint; Grier pushed him back. "What else you got?" Aleck taunted.

What he had was the ability to drive every bit of air from Aleck's lungs and a relentless, maddening rhythm that sent him into orgasm embarrassingly soon. Again. He was still trembling, with his pulse thumping in his ears and sparks of pleasure fizzling down his thighs, when Grier next spoke. He untangled Aleck's legs from his waist and lowered them to the bed. Aleck sprawled in a boneless heap, arms thrown over his face.

"If you insist on doing this," Grier said, still shaky from his own release. "Then I'm coming with you."

Aleck scrubbed his hands over his cheeks, trying to jumpstart his brain. "Why?"

"For selfish reasons."

Copyright © 2010 Libby Drew; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Gay Authors 2009 Novella Contest Entry
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