Fic: Hollow Man
Apr. 4th, 2020 01:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Fic: Hollow Man
Fandom: Joe Ledger series by Jonathan Maberry
Pairing: Alexander - Toys - Chismer/OMC
Summary: In which Alexander Chismer, or Toys has he's commonly known, becomes the liaison between a spy and Mr. Church.
1
It was, from the beginning, a terrible mistake.
2
It started like this:
Mr. Church, who had contacts everywhere, needed a liaison. His informant was too closely watched to access any of the usual channels. He needed someone who could meet clandestinely and get the needed information.
Enter Alexander Chismer, Toys to anyone who knew him. Once the assistant to Sebastian Gault, a pharmaceutical developer and evil genius, Toys now worked for FreeTech, a company that took technology the DMS confiscated from the various madmen of the world and put it to good use. He also, on occasion, did favors for Church in a desperate and futile attempt to restore balance to his world. Not to wipe clean what he had done in the past—that was impossible—but to add a few ticks to the other side. To do some good
The first meeting was at a popular club in San Diego’s Gaslamp District. All Toys had was a name—Sean—and orders to get the information as discretely as possible. As if that would be a problem for him.
He’d been at the club an hour, sipping a disgraceful excuse for a martini, when he was jostled from behind.
He turned around.
A young man stood there, grinning like an idiot. Long limbed, beautifully thin, full lips, and lush lashes framing bright blue eyes. Those eyes wandered slowly and obscenely down Toys’ body and up again making him feel surprisingly vulnerable.
“Hey,” the boy said lazily.
Toys gave a tight nod and allowed himself the luxury of perusing the body presented to him. Jeans slung low on his hips, tight black tank top, black nail polish. Once, this young man would have fit perfectly into Toys stable of young men and women with whom he played.
Those days were long gone.
The young man took the dreadful martini and set it on a table. Then, he took Toys’ hands and drew him onto the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around Toys’ neck and buried his face in Toys’ neck.
“Deacon send you?” he asked, grinding against Toys.
Toys ran a hand down the young man’s back. Grasped his buttock and writhed his hips in time with the music. “Yes.” He put his other hand on the back of the boy’s head and clutched his fingers in his hair. “Sean?”
“Yeah.” He kissed his way up Toys’ neck and nipped at his ear. Then he whispered the information Toys had come for as seductively as if he whispered sweet nothings in Toys’ ear. “Got it?” he asked when he was done. He bit Toys’ ear again.
Toys cleared his throat. “Yes.”
Sean pulled back and looked into Toys’ eyes. “Better be sure.”
“I know my job. Have no fear.”
“You’re fucking hot,” Sean said, a little louder. He leaned in and kissed Toys.
It was electric. It started as a show, but the moment their lips met it was as if they’d touched a live wire. Sean moaned and slipped his thigh between Toys’ legs, grinding up against him. His tongue was wet and hot and moved with a passion and confidence that made Toys’ head spin.
It was madness.
He lost track of time. They stopped dancing. Stood on the dance floor frantically kissing, teeth tearing at lips, lips crushed together, hands roaming.
And then, Sean tore himself away. His eyes were wide. Awed. He reached into Toys’ pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Call me,” he said, holding out the phone for Toys to unlock it.
“Probably not the wisest idea.”
But the young man gazed deeply into his eyes, and Toys found himself unlocking the device.
With a triumphant smile, Sean punched in his number and slipped it back into Toy’s pocket. “Hope to hear from you.” He kissed Toys once more, then danced away, disappearing into the mass of people.
Fuck.
3
Toys did not delete the number although he had no intention of making contact. It would be madness. It would put them both in danger. It was much too big a risk.
And yet…
The day after the encounter, Toys lit a candle for the young man. He was, after all, in a dangerous situation. It was no mere gang he worked with and the information he’d passed along had revealed the depths he was entangled in. He needed all the help he could get.
And if Toys’ lips tingled as he lit the candle, that was entirely beside the point.
4
Four month later, Church let Toys know his services were needed once more. Once again, Toys found himself in the Gaslamp district, this time in the morning hours in a popular coffee shop. It was crowded, and after he ordered, Toys took a spot in the corner of the shop where he could see everything.
Sean came in about five minutes after Toys arrived. He had on sunglasses, and as he removed them, he did a slow sweep over the room. They didn’t stop on Toys, but Toys knew he’d been seen.
He waited as Sean ordered a plain coffee, which he received right away. He smiled and thanked the woman behind the counter, then walked to the coffee prep station near Toys. As he added an ungodly amount of sugar to his coffee, he did a sweep again. This time, he let his gaze land on Toys.
“I know you,” he said. “We met before.”
Toys gave him a slight nod. “I think you’re right. The Omnia, I believe.”
Sean’s smile grew. “That’s right.” He put the lid on his coffee and set it on a table near Toys. “You never called.”
He only gave a briefest of smiles.
Sean’s hand slipped inside the lapel of Toys’ blazer. Nimble fingers removed the phone Toys kept there.
“Unlock it?”
“What your obsession with my phone?” he asked, exasperated as he did as asked.
Sean just gave an enigmatic smile as he opened the contacts. He scrolled quickly through before he found his entry, then shot off a quick text. “There. Now I can get hold of you.”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“Just how I like it.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over Toys’ as he slipped the phone back inside.
Their lips caught. That same electric tingle, the same fire rushed through them. They deepened the kiss and probably would have been swept away had not someone bumped into Sean from behind.
They broke apart. Sean looked as flushed and breathless as Toys felt.
“Better go,” Sean said ruefully. “See you around.” He picked up his coffee and left.
Toys touched his breast pocket. He could feel the flash drive Sean had slipped inside with the phone and marveled at the light touch with which it was done. Then, his order was called. Toys got his coffee, slipped on his own sunglasses, and left the shop.
5
“What can you tell me about him?” Toys asked as he handed the flash drive over to Church.
Church, eyes inscrutable through the tinted lenses he always wore, studied Toys. “What do you want to know?”
He thought for a moment. “Is he likely to be discovered?”
“He’s careful. And knows what he’s doing.”
“Does he have experience in this sort of thing?”
Church nodded.
“At so young an age?”
“His father was in the industry. And he trained Sean well. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not.”
But he was.
Damn him.
6
It continued the same way. Every few months, Church would contact Toys and tell him where to go. Toys would to the meeting location—always somewhere crowded and lively—and Sean would find him. They’d have a brief interaction, and Sean would get the message or information to Toys.
They always kissed. And, each time, it grew more and more passionate.
Toys was helpless to stop it. He didn’t want to stop it, even though he knew he should. But it provided just the right cover, allowing them to get close enough to Sean to slip a device or whisper the information, that Toys never did.
He only hoped it was all a cover on Sean’s side. Toys had nothing else to offer. He was a dead man walking.
7
Toys lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep, as it often did, eluded him. He was not restless. His mind did not whirl with anxiety or dread. It was simply another sleepless night in the long chain of his existence.
Next to the bed, his phone beeped.
Sean: I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.
His breath caught. He sat up.
The phone lit up again.
Sean: It’s not just me, right? The chemistry between us is off the charts.
Fingers shaking, Toys typed back, You are chasing something unattainable.
Sean: Why deny something that’s so incredible? You married?
He snorted. No.
Sean: Boyfriend? Girlfriend?
No. Merely one of the damned.
Minutes passed. Then the phone lit again.
Sean: You’re still alive. There’s time.
Not for me.
Sean: When I get out of this, I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving you wrong.
Toys sighed and put the phone away. He spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, trying to forget a pair of very blue eyes.
8
Sean Seventh and Market Street, two AM, behind the CVS. 911.
Toys took his gun. And his knife. It was, perhaps, overkill—either one alone would be enough--but he didn’t know what he was facing. Better to be over prepared than under.
Sean waited for him in the alley. He paced. When he saw Toys, his shoulders relaxed.
“What…”
But Toys was cut off as Sean practically launched himself at Toys. He kissed Toys, mouth hot and desperate. Hands clutched at Toy’s jacket.
“What is it?” he asked, breathlessly between rough, deep kisses.
Sean shook his head. Slid to his knees.
Shit.
Before Toys could do anything, Sean had Toys’ cock out of his pants and swallowed him down.
Toys’ head hit the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth clenched as hot waves of pleasure washed through him. Hands at his side, he clenched them, thrusting his hips.
Sean had no gag reflex. He opened his mouth wide and let Toys fuck into it. Let his tongue pressed against the bottom of the cock in his mouth, hands reaching into Toys’ underwear to caresses his balls.
It was over too soon. Too soon, Toys lost control. He barely choked out a warning before he came, spilling into that hot, wet, wicked mouth as his body shuddered.
When it was done, Sean pulled away with a slow, teasing movement that sent tremors through Toys. He carefully tucked Toys back into his pants and zipped him up.
Toys opened his eyes. Looked down.
Bright blue eyes gazed back at him. Sean kept the eye contact as he stood, slow and graceful, his sinuous body rising hypnotically.
He gave Toys a crooked smile. “I’ve been dreaming of that for months.”
“Yes.”
Sean leaned in. Kissed him again, slower now. Deeply.
Toys almost forgot himself. Did forget himself until Sean whispered into his mouth, “They’re trafficking kids for the next phase of experiments. The first wave came in today. Get them out. Now.” He kissed Toys once more, then pulled away.
Toys cleared his throat. Straighten his collar. “Do you need a ride anywhere?”
Sean broke out into a grin. “I’m good. We’re at the club tonight. I’ll see you around.” He hesitated, then swiftly moved in once more. Kissed Toys. Then he left the alley, swaggering.
9
The next day, the DMS closed in.
Five minutes after they were deployed, Toys got a text.
Sean: Mission Park. Bathrooms near the tourist center. SOS.
10
He was barely recognizable. Huddled in a stall in the bathroom, blood caking his shirt and jeans. Face bruised and swollen. Burns and whip marks on his back.
Mouth pressed into a thin line, Toys slid his arm around Sean and carried him to the car. Only half-conscious, Sean was silent the whole drive back.
Toys entered the Catamaran Resort Hotel through the employee entrance so as not to draw attention. No one who worked at the hotel knew he owned it, but as he was the only permanent residence, they did give him a small amount of leeway simply because they were so familiar with him. He didn’t run into anyone, however, and got Sean to his room without trouble.
“I’ll have to strip you,” he said after he lay Sean on the bed. “Is that all right?”
“Man of my dreams asking if it’s okay to strip me?” Sean huffed a laugh and winced. “Do what you need to do. If I pass out…”
“I understand.” Toys set to work. He stripped Sean of his clothes and cleaned the wounds. A few were too deep to bandage, so he set gauze on them to staunch the bleeding and did what he could with the rest. When Sean’s minor wounds were bandaged, Toys retrieved a more extensive first aid kit from the bathroom and returned. “I’ll have to stitch some of these,” he said. “I don’t have anesthetic.”
Sean groaned. “Do it.”
Toys threaded and sterilized the needle. With as gentle touch as he could, he stitched up the first of the wounds.
Sean bit back a scream. His hands clenched in the sheets and he panted for breath, but he didn’t move. Tears steamed down his swollen face as Toys finished up the first gash and moved on to the second. Abruptly, his body went still as he passed out, and Toys’ stomach unclenched in relief. The smell of blood hung in the air. It stained his sheets, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but finishing the job.
He’d just tied off the last stitch when his phone rang.
“Yes?” he answered. He put the phone on speaker and sponged the blood from Sean’s back and arms.
“Our contact is missing,” Church said.
“He’s with me.”
A measured silence, then Church said, “Status?”
“Not good. He’ll survive.”
“If you need help…”
“We’re fine. I’ll let you know if the situation changes.” He swallowed. “The children?”
“Safe.”.”
“Good.”
The call ended and Toys cleaned up. He was about to leave the room when Sean spoke.
“Any chance of you joining me?” Sean’s voice was sleepy and a little slurred.
Toys stopped at the door. He turned. “Surely you’re too injured.”
Sean snorted. “Not for that.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t want to be alone.”
He hesitated a moment, then went back to the bed. Slipping his shoes and slacks off, he climbed into the bed and lay down next to Sean.
Sean moved closer to Toys and rested his head on Toys’ shoulder. “What’s your name? You never told me.”
“Deacon didn’t?”
“Naw. Just sent me a picture so I’d know it was you.” He looked up, blue eyes bright and curious.
Toys huffed out a breath. “Most people call me Toys.”
Sean snorted. “That’s interesting. Where did it come from?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“What’s your real name?”
He hesitated, then said, “Alexander. Alexander Chismer.”
“Gonna call you Alexander. You don’t say it like you hate it. You hate being called Toys.”
He couldn’t protest. He did. He despised the name. It belonged to a man who didn’t exist anymore. But it stuck to him, nonetheless.
Toys put his hand on a patch of Sean’s skin that wasn’t covered in bandages. “How did they find you out?” he asked.
“They didn’t, exactly. One of the men decided to have some fun with a kid. I stepped into stop, and that was an unpopular decision. They took it out on me.”
“Did they rape you?” He hadn’t thought to check.
“No. Just pounded me and stuff until they were bored. I snuck off. Or, at least, no one stopped me when I left. Barely made it to the park before I called you.”
He stroked Sean’s skin. “I’m glad you got away.”
Sean looked up. Smiled. “Me too.” Pain etched across his face, he leaned up and kissed Toys. Gently. Slowly. The electricity was still there, but neither man allowed it to escalate. It as a long, gentle kiss that went on and on. It washed through Toys like a wave, making him feel clean.
But he’d never be clean.
Finally, Sean pulled back. He smiled sleepily and rested his head on Toys’ shoulder again. Within minutes, he was asleep.
Toys sighed. This was dangerous. It was a mistake. He couldn’t be allowed to have this. Not with a young man as sweet and good as Sean. Toys was too damaged, too corrupted. It wasn’t right.
And yet…
11
Sean stayed. He healed. And every night, he climbed into Toys’ bed, rested his head on Toys’ shoulder, and put his arm around Toys’ body. Every morning, they had breakfast together, talking over coffee and toast. During the day, Sean would go to the beach or a café or the park while Toys went to work. They’d come together in the evening, have dinner, and the cycle would repeat.
Every day on his way home from work, Toys would go to a church. He’d light a candle and settle in. He still didn’t pray. He had no right to ask for anything. No right to ask to be allowed to keep Sean. No right to feel a sense of safety in the other man’s arms. No right to any of it.
And yet he had it.
One day, Sean met him outside the church. He didn’t say anything as Toys came out. Didn’t remark on the tearstain that lingered on Toys’ face. Just gave him a sad smile and took Toys’ hand. Together, they walked away and went to dinner.
That night was the first night they made love.
The worst of Sean’s injuries had healed. He came into the front room where Toys was reading. He took the book and set it aside before sinking onto Toys lap.
“I get it,” he said, putting his arms around Toys. “You’ve done stuff you’re not proud of. That make you hate yourself. I have, too.”
“Sean…”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not in a competition with you. I know my past isn’t as bad as yours, but I’m not singing with the angels. But you try. You try harder than anyone I know to made amends.”
“I’ll never restore the balance sheets.”
He shrugged. “Knowing that doesn’t stop you from trying, though. And that’s why I love you.”
Toys’ breath caught. Tears pressed behind his eyes. “Sean…”
“Alexander.” He kissed Toys. “Don’t. Just let me love you.” He kissed Toys again.
Toys was helpless. He allowed Sean to lead him to the bedroom. Together, they stripped each other of their clothes. Fell to the bed.
It was overwhelming. The feel of teeth and tongue against his skin. The soft sounds of Sean’s moans. The taste of sweat and skin. The tightness of Sean’s body as Toys slid in.
He cried as Sean’s body welcomed him in. Tears fell from his eyes and splashed on Sean’s skin, already slick with sweat. Their fingers interlaced; their foreheads pressed together. Sean whispered sweet words as Toys moved, his legs wrapped around Toys waist.
Tears stood on his eyelashes. Toys kissed them away.
In the aftermath, Toys lay next to this beautiful, wonderful, amazing young man and wondered why. Why had he chosen Toys? Why had Toys, after all the terrible things he’d done, being gifted with him? Why? Why?
Why.
11
Sean was not free of the DMS and Mr. Church. He was sent in once more to infiltrate another group of madmen. Of terrorists. This time, Toys was left out of the loop. He was not Sean’s contact, and that was probably for the best. There was too much of a chance they’d been seen together.
So, Toys lay in his bed each night and worried. He visited the church morning, noon, and night. He prayed, not for himself, but for Sean. He had no right to ask, but thought, perhaps, if he prayed on behalf of another…
He should have known better.
12
Sean was as beautiful in death as he had been in life.
Toys stood over the body. He felt nothing. Nothing. Nothing. It pounded in him, the emptiness.
“What happened?” he asked Church. His voice sounded steady. Sure. Merely curious.
“His contact slipped up. Got captured. Sean was revealed.” Church was staring at Toys from across Sean’s body. Gaze steady and heavy. “The contact got away.”
Toys swallowed. His fingers tingled. “Where are they?”
“The contact or the cell?”
“Both.”
“You can’t go in alone.”
He looked up. “They’ll never see me coming.”
13
It took a year. A year to track every member down and slaughter them. True, they went easy on Sean, killing him quickly, but Toys did not believe that repayment had to be equal.
He ripped every member apart.
He saved the contact for last. He took his time. He waited until the contact was shuddering and weeping. And then, he ended it.
When it was done, he took Sean’s ashes to the beach. Stood at the end of the pier and gazed at the vast horizon.
He empty. Hollow. There was nothing to him anymore. Nothing left.
Lump in his throat, he scattered the ashes over the sea. A tear slid down his face. Splashed on the edge of the pier.
“Goodbye,” he whispered.
The ashes glinted off the sea before being washed away.
Toys returned home. And continued to live his hollow life.
The End
Fandom: Joe Ledger series by Jonathan Maberry
Pairing: Alexander - Toys - Chismer/OMC
Summary: In which Alexander Chismer, or Toys has he's commonly known, becomes the liaison between a spy and Mr. Church.
1
It was, from the beginning, a terrible mistake.
2
It started like this:
Mr. Church, who had contacts everywhere, needed a liaison. His informant was too closely watched to access any of the usual channels. He needed someone who could meet clandestinely and get the needed information.
Enter Alexander Chismer, Toys to anyone who knew him. Once the assistant to Sebastian Gault, a pharmaceutical developer and evil genius, Toys now worked for FreeTech, a company that took technology the DMS confiscated from the various madmen of the world and put it to good use. He also, on occasion, did favors for Church in a desperate and futile attempt to restore balance to his world. Not to wipe clean what he had done in the past—that was impossible—but to add a few ticks to the other side. To do some good
The first meeting was at a popular club in San Diego’s Gaslamp District. All Toys had was a name—Sean—and orders to get the information as discretely as possible. As if that would be a problem for him.
He’d been at the club an hour, sipping a disgraceful excuse for a martini, when he was jostled from behind.
He turned around.
A young man stood there, grinning like an idiot. Long limbed, beautifully thin, full lips, and lush lashes framing bright blue eyes. Those eyes wandered slowly and obscenely down Toys’ body and up again making him feel surprisingly vulnerable.
“Hey,” the boy said lazily.
Toys gave a tight nod and allowed himself the luxury of perusing the body presented to him. Jeans slung low on his hips, tight black tank top, black nail polish. Once, this young man would have fit perfectly into Toys stable of young men and women with whom he played.
Those days were long gone.
The young man took the dreadful martini and set it on a table. Then, he took Toys’ hands and drew him onto the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around Toys’ neck and buried his face in Toys’ neck.
“Deacon send you?” he asked, grinding against Toys.
Toys ran a hand down the young man’s back. Grasped his buttock and writhed his hips in time with the music. “Yes.” He put his other hand on the back of the boy’s head and clutched his fingers in his hair. “Sean?”
“Yeah.” He kissed his way up Toys’ neck and nipped at his ear. Then he whispered the information Toys had come for as seductively as if he whispered sweet nothings in Toys’ ear. “Got it?” he asked when he was done. He bit Toys’ ear again.
Toys cleared his throat. “Yes.”
Sean pulled back and looked into Toys’ eyes. “Better be sure.”
“I know my job. Have no fear.”
“You’re fucking hot,” Sean said, a little louder. He leaned in and kissed Toys.
It was electric. It started as a show, but the moment their lips met it was as if they’d touched a live wire. Sean moaned and slipped his thigh between Toys’ legs, grinding up against him. His tongue was wet and hot and moved with a passion and confidence that made Toys’ head spin.
It was madness.
He lost track of time. They stopped dancing. Stood on the dance floor frantically kissing, teeth tearing at lips, lips crushed together, hands roaming.
And then, Sean tore himself away. His eyes were wide. Awed. He reached into Toys’ pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Call me,” he said, holding out the phone for Toys to unlock it.
“Probably not the wisest idea.”
But the young man gazed deeply into his eyes, and Toys found himself unlocking the device.
With a triumphant smile, Sean punched in his number and slipped it back into Toy’s pocket. “Hope to hear from you.” He kissed Toys once more, then danced away, disappearing into the mass of people.
Fuck.
3
Toys did not delete the number although he had no intention of making contact. It would be madness. It would put them both in danger. It was much too big a risk.
And yet…
The day after the encounter, Toys lit a candle for the young man. He was, after all, in a dangerous situation. It was no mere gang he worked with and the information he’d passed along had revealed the depths he was entangled in. He needed all the help he could get.
And if Toys’ lips tingled as he lit the candle, that was entirely beside the point.
4
Four month later, Church let Toys know his services were needed once more. Once again, Toys found himself in the Gaslamp district, this time in the morning hours in a popular coffee shop. It was crowded, and after he ordered, Toys took a spot in the corner of the shop where he could see everything.
Sean came in about five minutes after Toys arrived. He had on sunglasses, and as he removed them, he did a slow sweep over the room. They didn’t stop on Toys, but Toys knew he’d been seen.
He waited as Sean ordered a plain coffee, which he received right away. He smiled and thanked the woman behind the counter, then walked to the coffee prep station near Toys. As he added an ungodly amount of sugar to his coffee, he did a sweep again. This time, he let his gaze land on Toys.
“I know you,” he said. “We met before.”
Toys gave him a slight nod. “I think you’re right. The Omnia, I believe.”
Sean’s smile grew. “That’s right.” He put the lid on his coffee and set it on a table near Toys. “You never called.”
He only gave a briefest of smiles.
Sean’s hand slipped inside the lapel of Toys’ blazer. Nimble fingers removed the phone Toys kept there.
“Unlock it?”
“What your obsession with my phone?” he asked, exasperated as he did as asked.
Sean just gave an enigmatic smile as he opened the contacts. He scrolled quickly through before he found his entry, then shot off a quick text. “There. Now I can get hold of you.”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“Just how I like it.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over Toys’ as he slipped the phone back inside.
Their lips caught. That same electric tingle, the same fire rushed through them. They deepened the kiss and probably would have been swept away had not someone bumped into Sean from behind.
They broke apart. Sean looked as flushed and breathless as Toys felt.
“Better go,” Sean said ruefully. “See you around.” He picked up his coffee and left.
Toys touched his breast pocket. He could feel the flash drive Sean had slipped inside with the phone and marveled at the light touch with which it was done. Then, his order was called. Toys got his coffee, slipped on his own sunglasses, and left the shop.
5
“What can you tell me about him?” Toys asked as he handed the flash drive over to Church.
Church, eyes inscrutable through the tinted lenses he always wore, studied Toys. “What do you want to know?”
He thought for a moment. “Is he likely to be discovered?”
“He’s careful. And knows what he’s doing.”
“Does he have experience in this sort of thing?”
Church nodded.
“At so young an age?”
“His father was in the industry. And he trained Sean well. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not.”
But he was.
Damn him.
6
It continued the same way. Every few months, Church would contact Toys and tell him where to go. Toys would to the meeting location—always somewhere crowded and lively—and Sean would find him. They’d have a brief interaction, and Sean would get the message or information to Toys.
They always kissed. And, each time, it grew more and more passionate.
Toys was helpless to stop it. He didn’t want to stop it, even though he knew he should. But it provided just the right cover, allowing them to get close enough to Sean to slip a device or whisper the information, that Toys never did.
He only hoped it was all a cover on Sean’s side. Toys had nothing else to offer. He was a dead man walking.
7
Toys lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep, as it often did, eluded him. He was not restless. His mind did not whirl with anxiety or dread. It was simply another sleepless night in the long chain of his existence.
Next to the bed, his phone beeped.
Sean: I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.
His breath caught. He sat up.
The phone lit up again.
Sean: It’s not just me, right? The chemistry between us is off the charts.
Fingers shaking, Toys typed back, You are chasing something unattainable.
Sean: Why deny something that’s so incredible? You married?
He snorted. No.
Sean: Boyfriend? Girlfriend?
No. Merely one of the damned.
Minutes passed. Then the phone lit again.
Sean: You’re still alive. There’s time.
Not for me.
Sean: When I get out of this, I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving you wrong.
Toys sighed and put the phone away. He spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, trying to forget a pair of very blue eyes.
8
Sean Seventh and Market Street, two AM, behind the CVS. 911.
Toys took his gun. And his knife. It was, perhaps, overkill—either one alone would be enough--but he didn’t know what he was facing. Better to be over prepared than under.
Sean waited for him in the alley. He paced. When he saw Toys, his shoulders relaxed.
“What…”
But Toys was cut off as Sean practically launched himself at Toys. He kissed Toys, mouth hot and desperate. Hands clutched at Toy’s jacket.
“What is it?” he asked, breathlessly between rough, deep kisses.
Sean shook his head. Slid to his knees.
Shit.
Before Toys could do anything, Sean had Toys’ cock out of his pants and swallowed him down.
Toys’ head hit the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut, teeth clenched as hot waves of pleasure washed through him. Hands at his side, he clenched them, thrusting his hips.
Sean had no gag reflex. He opened his mouth wide and let Toys fuck into it. Let his tongue pressed against the bottom of the cock in his mouth, hands reaching into Toys’ underwear to caresses his balls.
It was over too soon. Too soon, Toys lost control. He barely choked out a warning before he came, spilling into that hot, wet, wicked mouth as his body shuddered.
When it was done, Sean pulled away with a slow, teasing movement that sent tremors through Toys. He carefully tucked Toys back into his pants and zipped him up.
Toys opened his eyes. Looked down.
Bright blue eyes gazed back at him. Sean kept the eye contact as he stood, slow and graceful, his sinuous body rising hypnotically.
He gave Toys a crooked smile. “I’ve been dreaming of that for months.”
“Yes.”
Sean leaned in. Kissed him again, slower now. Deeply.
Toys almost forgot himself. Did forget himself until Sean whispered into his mouth, “They’re trafficking kids for the next phase of experiments. The first wave came in today. Get them out. Now.” He kissed Toys once more, then pulled away.
Toys cleared his throat. Straighten his collar. “Do you need a ride anywhere?”
Sean broke out into a grin. “I’m good. We’re at the club tonight. I’ll see you around.” He hesitated, then swiftly moved in once more. Kissed Toys. Then he left the alley, swaggering.
9
The next day, the DMS closed in.
Five minutes after they were deployed, Toys got a text.
Sean: Mission Park. Bathrooms near the tourist center. SOS.
10
He was barely recognizable. Huddled in a stall in the bathroom, blood caking his shirt and jeans. Face bruised and swollen. Burns and whip marks on his back.
Mouth pressed into a thin line, Toys slid his arm around Sean and carried him to the car. Only half-conscious, Sean was silent the whole drive back.
Toys entered the Catamaran Resort Hotel through the employee entrance so as not to draw attention. No one who worked at the hotel knew he owned it, but as he was the only permanent residence, they did give him a small amount of leeway simply because they were so familiar with him. He didn’t run into anyone, however, and got Sean to his room without trouble.
“I’ll have to strip you,” he said after he lay Sean on the bed. “Is that all right?”
“Man of my dreams asking if it’s okay to strip me?” Sean huffed a laugh and winced. “Do what you need to do. If I pass out…”
“I understand.” Toys set to work. He stripped Sean of his clothes and cleaned the wounds. A few were too deep to bandage, so he set gauze on them to staunch the bleeding and did what he could with the rest. When Sean’s minor wounds were bandaged, Toys retrieved a more extensive first aid kit from the bathroom and returned. “I’ll have to stitch some of these,” he said. “I don’t have anesthetic.”
Sean groaned. “Do it.”
Toys threaded and sterilized the needle. With as gentle touch as he could, he stitched up the first of the wounds.
Sean bit back a scream. His hands clenched in the sheets and he panted for breath, but he didn’t move. Tears steamed down his swollen face as Toys finished up the first gash and moved on to the second. Abruptly, his body went still as he passed out, and Toys’ stomach unclenched in relief. The smell of blood hung in the air. It stained his sheets, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but finishing the job.
He’d just tied off the last stitch when his phone rang.
“Yes?” he answered. He put the phone on speaker and sponged the blood from Sean’s back and arms.
“Our contact is missing,” Church said.
“He’s with me.”
A measured silence, then Church said, “Status?”
“Not good. He’ll survive.”
“If you need help…”
“We’re fine. I’ll let you know if the situation changes.” He swallowed. “The children?”
“Safe.”.”
“Good.”
The call ended and Toys cleaned up. He was about to leave the room when Sean spoke.
“Any chance of you joining me?” Sean’s voice was sleepy and a little slurred.
Toys stopped at the door. He turned. “Surely you’re too injured.”
Sean snorted. “Not for that.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t want to be alone.”
He hesitated a moment, then went back to the bed. Slipping his shoes and slacks off, he climbed into the bed and lay down next to Sean.
Sean moved closer to Toys and rested his head on Toys’ shoulder. “What’s your name? You never told me.”
“Deacon didn’t?”
“Naw. Just sent me a picture so I’d know it was you.” He looked up, blue eyes bright and curious.
Toys huffed out a breath. “Most people call me Toys.”
Sean snorted. “That’s interesting. Where did it come from?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“What’s your real name?”
He hesitated, then said, “Alexander. Alexander Chismer.”
“Gonna call you Alexander. You don’t say it like you hate it. You hate being called Toys.”
He couldn’t protest. He did. He despised the name. It belonged to a man who didn’t exist anymore. But it stuck to him, nonetheless.
Toys put his hand on a patch of Sean’s skin that wasn’t covered in bandages. “How did they find you out?” he asked.
“They didn’t, exactly. One of the men decided to have some fun with a kid. I stepped into stop, and that was an unpopular decision. They took it out on me.”
“Did they rape you?” He hadn’t thought to check.
“No. Just pounded me and stuff until they were bored. I snuck off. Or, at least, no one stopped me when I left. Barely made it to the park before I called you.”
He stroked Sean’s skin. “I’m glad you got away.”
Sean looked up. Smiled. “Me too.” Pain etched across his face, he leaned up and kissed Toys. Gently. Slowly. The electricity was still there, but neither man allowed it to escalate. It as a long, gentle kiss that went on and on. It washed through Toys like a wave, making him feel clean.
But he’d never be clean.
Finally, Sean pulled back. He smiled sleepily and rested his head on Toys’ shoulder again. Within minutes, he was asleep.
Toys sighed. This was dangerous. It was a mistake. He couldn’t be allowed to have this. Not with a young man as sweet and good as Sean. Toys was too damaged, too corrupted. It wasn’t right.
And yet…
11
Sean stayed. He healed. And every night, he climbed into Toys’ bed, rested his head on Toys’ shoulder, and put his arm around Toys’ body. Every morning, they had breakfast together, talking over coffee and toast. During the day, Sean would go to the beach or a café or the park while Toys went to work. They’d come together in the evening, have dinner, and the cycle would repeat.
Every day on his way home from work, Toys would go to a church. He’d light a candle and settle in. He still didn’t pray. He had no right to ask for anything. No right to ask to be allowed to keep Sean. No right to feel a sense of safety in the other man’s arms. No right to any of it.
And yet he had it.
One day, Sean met him outside the church. He didn’t say anything as Toys came out. Didn’t remark on the tearstain that lingered on Toys’ face. Just gave him a sad smile and took Toys’ hand. Together, they walked away and went to dinner.
That night was the first night they made love.
The worst of Sean’s injuries had healed. He came into the front room where Toys was reading. He took the book and set it aside before sinking onto Toys lap.
“I get it,” he said, putting his arms around Toys. “You’ve done stuff you’re not proud of. That make you hate yourself. I have, too.”
“Sean…”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not in a competition with you. I know my past isn’t as bad as yours, but I’m not singing with the angels. But you try. You try harder than anyone I know to made amends.”
“I’ll never restore the balance sheets.”
He shrugged. “Knowing that doesn’t stop you from trying, though. And that’s why I love you.”
Toys’ breath caught. Tears pressed behind his eyes. “Sean…”
“Alexander.” He kissed Toys. “Don’t. Just let me love you.” He kissed Toys again.
Toys was helpless. He allowed Sean to lead him to the bedroom. Together, they stripped each other of their clothes. Fell to the bed.
It was overwhelming. The feel of teeth and tongue against his skin. The soft sounds of Sean’s moans. The taste of sweat and skin. The tightness of Sean’s body as Toys slid in.
He cried as Sean’s body welcomed him in. Tears fell from his eyes and splashed on Sean’s skin, already slick with sweat. Their fingers interlaced; their foreheads pressed together. Sean whispered sweet words as Toys moved, his legs wrapped around Toys waist.
Tears stood on his eyelashes. Toys kissed them away.
In the aftermath, Toys lay next to this beautiful, wonderful, amazing young man and wondered why. Why had he chosen Toys? Why had Toys, after all the terrible things he’d done, being gifted with him? Why? Why?
Why.
11
Sean was not free of the DMS and Mr. Church. He was sent in once more to infiltrate another group of madmen. Of terrorists. This time, Toys was left out of the loop. He was not Sean’s contact, and that was probably for the best. There was too much of a chance they’d been seen together.
So, Toys lay in his bed each night and worried. He visited the church morning, noon, and night. He prayed, not for himself, but for Sean. He had no right to ask, but thought, perhaps, if he prayed on behalf of another…
He should have known better.
12
Sean was as beautiful in death as he had been in life.
Toys stood over the body. He felt nothing. Nothing. Nothing. It pounded in him, the emptiness.
“What happened?” he asked Church. His voice sounded steady. Sure. Merely curious.
“His contact slipped up. Got captured. Sean was revealed.” Church was staring at Toys from across Sean’s body. Gaze steady and heavy. “The contact got away.”
Toys swallowed. His fingers tingled. “Where are they?”
“The contact or the cell?”
“Both.”
“You can’t go in alone.”
He looked up. “They’ll never see me coming.”
13
It took a year. A year to track every member down and slaughter them. True, they went easy on Sean, killing him quickly, but Toys did not believe that repayment had to be equal.
He ripped every member apart.
He saved the contact for last. He took his time. He waited until the contact was shuddering and weeping. And then, he ended it.
When it was done, he took Sean’s ashes to the beach. Stood at the end of the pier and gazed at the vast horizon.
He empty. Hollow. There was nothing to him anymore. Nothing left.
Lump in his throat, he scattered the ashes over the sea. A tear slid down his face. Splashed on the edge of the pier.
“Goodbye,” he whispered.
The ashes glinted off the sea before being washed away.
Toys returned home. And continued to live his hollow life.
The End
