Snippet: Rising Intimacies

"Damian!"

Josh all but threw his laptop to the side as he stood up. It thankfully landed on the couch next to him.

"What?" Damian came out of the kitchen and looked at him curiously. "Are you all right?"

Josh nodded. "I got in. I actually got in!" He couldn't believe it, but it was right there on his laptop. "I haven't gotten the A-level results back yet, they're supposed to be out tomorrow, but they have to be good because I got an unconditional offer." Josh stared down at the screen for a moment, just to make sure it really was an unconditional offer, then looked back up at Damian. "I got in to university!"

Damian smiled as he rounded the couch and embraced Josh in a tight hug. "I told you you could do it!"

"Not without you." Josh hugged him back. He'd done exceptionally bad at his A-levels the year before, as predicted, so he'd opted to retake them. Damian had helped him study, even though he had a lot of studying to do himself. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"I hardly did anything," Damian murmured against Josh's neck.

"You did." Josh pushed him back enough so that he could see Damian's face. He smiled, then leaned in and kissed him. Damian kissed him back instantly and Josh smiled into it as he thought back to a year ago, when they'd first met. Damian had become so much more comfortable with kissing, with bodily contact, than he had been back then when just a simple kiss had left him flustered. If only he would … Josh let his hand travel down Damian's stomach and down past the waistband of his jeans …

"What are you doing?" Damian pushed him away and stared at Josh with wide eyes.

Josh shook his head in frustration. "Nothing." He licked his lips, gathering courage as he looked up at Damian again. "It's been over a year, Damian."

Damian took a couple of steps back. He looked like a deer caught in headlights and Josh hated putting that look there, but it had been over a year. "It's the middle of the day, Josh."

Like that makes a difference. Josh hated pushing him. He tried not to, but damn … a year. He didn't understand why Damian was so squeamish about sex. Josh's own previous sex-life hadn't been healthy at all and very much trauma inducing, but that didn't mean he didn't want to have sex with Damian. Because he did, desperately.

Snippet: Measured Doses

"Your student's here. You know, the student."

Dion froze for several seconds before slowly turning around to face Jeremy. He looked suspicious, like he didn't believe what he was hearing. "What did you say?"

"Your student. The red-head you cheated on me with?" Jeremy couldn't stop the trace of bitterness and hurt that bled into his voice. He'd been hurt and angry for three months. It wouldn't simply disappear because he had taken care of the student in question. It was still Dion he was mad at. "He's here. He's sleeping in the guestroom."

Dion's brows drew together in a frown. "Why? Why is he here? Why is he asleep in our guestroom?"

"He was beaten halfway into next year." Jeremy still couldn't get the sight off Chad's swollen face and his bruised and beaten body out of his mind. "From what I gathered, it's a regular thing."

Dion sighed and closed his eyes. He turned away slightly, but Jeremy could still see the worry painted clearly in his face. Dion still cared for Chad, he still worried about Chad … "It is. When he did show up at college he was usually bruised."

"No one did anything?" Jeremy couldn't believe no one had taken any action. A student had been abused, and not a single person had done anything to help him?

"He wouldn't admit to anything." Dion tangled his fingers in his hair and pulled slightly in frustration. "I tried to talk to him. The counsellor talked to him. He refused. Said he'd been in fights. We couldn't do anything without him confessing. For all we did know he did get in fights. He was always a troublemaker."

"How long was he your student?" Jeremy needed to know. Needed to know how long Dion had seen Chad show up bruised.

"Only his last year. Well, the first term of it, anyway. He quit in January."

Jeremy was weirdly relieved at hearing that. One term wasn't much to go by. At least Dion hadn't been his teacher since he started college. There were will still other teachers who had seen Chad though and who had let his situation pass. Jeremy couldn't fathom why anyone would overlook such a blatant display of abuse.

Dion looked pained as he turned back to face Jeremy fully. Pained and guilty all at the same time. "Why did he come here?"

"He had nowhere else to go." Jeremy stared into Dion's brown eyes. "You gave him your home address."

Snippet: Bodily Harm

"Hey, D." Silver's voice came from the front of the room. "You've got visitors."

Damian turned. As he didn't exactly know a lot of people, and two of his closest were right there, there were really only three it could be. Turned out it was two of them. "Ray. Claire. Hi."

Josh went rigid next to him as he realised just whom the two people standing by the door were. Damian glanced at him and Josh relaxed a bit when he met Damian's eyes.

"Hi, Damian. We were in the neighbourhood, so we thought we'd stop by and ask you to join us for dinner tonight." Claire smiled widely, as she usually tended to do. "Chloe will be joining us, as well. You can bring your friend." She nodded towards Josh, who suddenly looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Uh …" Damian looked back at Josh again, catching his eyes. Damian tried to form a silent question and he guessed he succeeded when Josh nodded slightly. "Okay. Uh … when?" He turned back to face his uncle and aunt. Claire was still smiling, while Ray was studying Josh.

"As it's Saturday, we're doing dinner a bit later than usual. How about around six?"

Damian nodded. "Okay, we'll be there."

"Great!" Claire beamed. "See you both then!" Her eyes too flickered to Josh for a bit, as Ray's had done, before she left the flat.

They must both be quite confused. Damian hadn't told them he was seeing anyone, so having Damian come out of his bedroom on a Saturday morning with another bloke must be quite a surprise for them both.

"Are you sure about this?" Josh was chewing nervously on his lower lip. "Dinner with your family?"

"Yeah, well … I've met your mum. It's only fair that you meet my uncle and aunt." It had actually been three months since Damian had first met Angelina. It was only fair that Josh got to meet Ray and Claire. They were the only family Damian had left, along with their two kids.

Snippet: Inner Demons

"Bloody hell!" Silver exclaimed somewhere above him. "Josh?"

Josh didn't want to face him. He could only imagine how he must look like all cried out. Blotchy face, red eyes. Not an attractive look at all and certainly not how he wanted Silver to see him. Whatever Silver saw, Damian eventually found out, and Josh didn't want Damian to worry about him anymore. "Please don't tell Damian."

"Josh …" Silver was suddenly on the floor next to Josh's head, which he lifted up to rest on his lap. "Why don't you want me to tell Damian?" Silver's hand brushed a few locks of hair away from Josh's cheek, which had stuck there from the tears.

"I've been doing so good. I don't want him to worry. He has so much to do, with the foundation training … he's getting somewhere and I'm not." That's what it felt like, anyway. He might have just finished his B.Sc. in Psychology, after having studied part-time because he was too broken to be able to study full-time like any sane person did. Having a bachelor's degree in Psychology did not mean he understood his own psyche any easier though.

"He worries about you because he cares, Josh," Silver murmured. "Because he loves you."

"He's never been able to focus solely on his studies because of me."

"Doesn't matter, does it? Damian's so bloody smart. He gets top grades even if he isn't spending all his time studying at the library." Silver's hand started carding though Josh's hair, massaging his scalp gently, and it felt good and relaxing. "If anything, you've been helping him."

"Yeah, right." Josh couldn't help the undignified snort at that. "How in the world have I been helping him? I've just given him a heck of a lot to worry about besides his education."

"You've been helping him with his people skills. Before he met you, Damian didn't really have any people skills. He's doing a lot better with people now, after you two hooked up."

Josh looked up at Silver. "He could do so much better than me."

"No, he really couldn't." Silver shook his head resolutely. "Hate to tell you, but you're it for him."

Snippet: Measured Doses

As I'm on Easter Holiday for a week and half, I'm scheduling some posts with snippets from my finished stories. They're still very much unedited, as I plan on editing them during my holiday. This first snippet is from Measured Doses, and it features Chad, who goes to the same group therapy as Josh and Damian in the Their Circumstances series.

* * *

Maybe Dion would help him out? He'd told Chad back then, almost four months ago now, that they couldn't pursue whatever was between them anymore because he had a boyfriend and he loved him. Chad had said he understood, Chad had let him go. What else could he have done? Chad had nothing to offer.

But maybe Dion still cared just a tiny bit. Maybe he'd let Chad stay for a couple days until he healed up and could figure out what he was going to do next. Dion had always been so kind. Chad hoped he still was.

He knew where Dion lived. At least where he had lived when Chad was still in college. He could only hope he still lived there, because if he didn't … then Chad didn't know what to do.

He sat hunched over in the tube. He had one arm wrapped tight around his middle while the other was braced on his knee. It still hurt to breathe and he was pretty sure the other passengers were looking at him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

He all but dragged himself up to the second-floor flat Dion had used to live in. He'd checked the mailbox and it still had Dion's name printed on it, so it looked like maybe he was in luck after all.

Chad leant heavily against the wall next to the door for several moments as he tried to gather his breath. He reached out with the arm that wasn't holding his own waist and knocked rapidly two times. Please let him be home. Please don't let him send me away.

The door opened slowly and Chad pushed himself away from the wall. A man was standing there but it wasn't Dion. No! "I … Is Dion here?" Please, please, please. Chad felt his eyes sting and he knew the tears weren't far behind.

"He's not at home right now." The bloke frowned down at him.

Chad couldn't hold it back anymore. The tears started trickling and the sudden sobs that escaped him hurt ten times more than simple breathing did, and that had hurt too. "P-please …"

The world was spinning again. Chad spread both his arms to try and steady himself against the doorway, but the sudden movement caused his ribs to protest painfully and he stumbled forward into a pair of strong arms.

WIP: Yesterday's Tears

That's what you get for calling it a slow night in the ER.

Granted, it hadn't been Damian saying it, but the end result was the same; not ten minutes after the words were said, the ER was swamped. There had been an automobile collision, involving several cars.

Some victims had gotten away with a few scratches and bruises and the fright, but there were also multiple traumas. Damian stepped outside just as an ambulance came to a halt.

The backdoors were slammed open and the stretcher lowered as the paramedic talked a mile a minute about the patient's condition. Damian didn't hear any of it, however, because he'd gotten a look at the patient's face, and his blood ran cold. Blood covered most of her face, but Damian still recognized her. He couldn't not after having lived all of his teenaged years in her house.

Someone was yelling Damian's name and it broke him out of the shocked trance he'd gone into. Damian hurried after the stretcher inside the ER, eyes only for Claire's limp, bloody body.

"Where's her husband?" He asked the female paramedic. "Were there teenagers in the car?" He grabbed her arm in desperation.

"No teenagers. Only her and a man. He was brought in before her," the paramedic informed him, casting a quick, worried look. "He was badly hurt too."

Damian backed away. He heard someone call his name again, but he didn't have time. He had to find his uncle. He went to the trauma rooms, checking each one in turn. When he entered number four, he saw Ray's familiar face, pale and unmoving.

"Time of death … 23:45."

No! Damian pushed his way past a nurse and another doctor and took Ray's hand. It was still warm, still bloody, but there was no life in it, no pulse. No, no, no!

"Dr. Fielding?"

"Dr. Fielding!"

"Damian!"

Damian was snapped out of the shock and he stared at the doctor who'd called his name. Then he remembered Claire. He had to go to Claire; he had to be there for her. There was nothing he could do for Ray—Ray was dead and Claire was all alone.

Damian pushed his way out of the room again and found Claire in trauma two. She lay just as unmoving as she had when she'd been strapped to the gurney; her face was just as bloody. Some of it was coagulating, but fresh blood still trickled from a nasty gash in her temple. The blond hair on that side was a mess.

"Dr. Fielding, get out of here," the trauma doctor told him sternly when he caught sight of Damian in the doorway. "We'll do the best we can, but you cannot stay here."

"I have to stay," he said, his voice low. "She's all alone. I don't want her to be alone when—"

The older doctor came up in front of him. "Dr. Fielding. Get out. You cannot stay in here while we work on her. Go to the waiting room. Now!"

Damian knew he couldn't be there, but part of him still held onto that he had to be there for her. The other part of him, the logical one, knew he would never be allowed though, so he turned and walked stiffly back out into the ER proper.

He could hear the beep of the machine as Claire coded and he knew, though it clawed painfully at his insides to admit it, that it wouldn't be long before her body gave up.

WIP: Midnight Sun

"Frey ..."

Frey lifted his head to look at Andreas questioningly.

"I have some bad news." Andreas chewed at his bottom lip. "That trip we had planned in three days ... I can't make it. I have to go on a field excursion for my master's degree. I know you've already taken the day off and all, but it was the only time available for the excursion."

Frey was disappointed. Andreas had promised to show him a bit of Svalbard outside Longyearbyen. But he understood. Andreas was taking his master's degree and that came ahead of everything else. "That's ok. No worries."

Jørgen looked between them. "That sightseeing trip?" he asked, and Andreas nodded in reply. Jørgen turned his eyes to Frey and Frey swallowed heavily. "I could take you, so that your day off wouldn't be wasted. I'm quite a spectacular guide."

Frey felt panic squeeze at his stomach. Go on a trip with Jørgen? Only the two of them, all alone in the wilderness of Svalbard? Andreas was smiling, looking like it was a perfect idea. Frey didn't want to say no, it would be rude when Jørgen had been so kind to offer. Frey never liked to be rude. "Ok," he whispered, blinking rapidly.

"I've already talked to Karina about the horses," Andreas told Jørgen. "I'm sure she won't mind that I'm being replaced by her best friend."

Jørgen chuckled at that.

Frey smiled slightly. He really liked Jørgen's smile. He was glad that they would be riding. Frey was more comfortable with horses than a snowmobile. And now that he was going with Jørgen ... It was best to be on horseback, with a horse to take care of. If things got too awkward he could always concentrate on the horse.

But even if the panic squeezed his stomach tighter, he couldn't help but feel the butterflies fluttering nervously, in anticipation ... Frey couldn't get himself involved with anyone in a sexual way, but maybe they could grow to be friends? Frey didn't have many of those, and having Jørgen as a friend ... that would be good enough. Right?

WIP: Midnight Sun

"Have you asked him out yet?"

Jørgen hit the squash ball with his racket, sending it in full speed towards the wall. He chanced a glance over at Karina, his tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed best friend since school. "No, I haven't," he replied, then hit the squash ball again as it bounced off the wall and came towards him again.

"Why not?" She lunged to the side, hitting the ball right on. "You've been mooning over him since he moved here. It doesn't hurt to ask. The worst you can get is a no."

That was true. But then again ... Jørgen thought of Frey as he continued to bounce the ball. Frey had been living in Longyearbyen for about two months now and Jørgen hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since he'd gotten his very first look at him back in January. The attraction had caught Jørgen completely off guard and he had stared. Frey had looked back, his moss-green eyes wide. There had been several emotions flicking across his face just then, but the one that had caught Jørgen's attention was the blatant fear in his expression.

Jørgen had never met Frey before in his life, so he couldn't understand why Frey would be afraid. He still was, even after two months. He never spoke much to Jørgen, and when Frey looked at him there was always that glint of fear in his eyes. Frey did not like to be touched either, he flinched away if Jørgen, or anyone else really, got to close. The only one Frey seemed comfortable around was Andreas.

"Why are you suddenly so timid?" Karina questioned. "You've never had any problem going after what you wanted. Is there something special about this one or is it simply a result of it being a very long time since you've been interested in a guy?"

"It hasn't been that long," Jørgen commented dryly.

"Fucking around with Jonathan doesn't count." Karina gave him a hard stare, daring him to argue with her, then she hit the ball. Jørgen decided not to get into it with her. An argument with Karina was not a good idea. Ever. "I mean dating. You haven't dated anyone since we moved here."

"Radimir—"

"Another fuck-buddy," Karina interrupted him. "Between Jonathan and the Russian you don't lack sex. But it's been a very long time since you had a relationship, a deeper connection to someone."

"Not everyone finds their special someone as early as you did," Jørgen pointed out, but he knew she was right. He didn't lack sex, not at all, but he missed having something more with someone. It had been a very long time since he'd been in a relationship, long before he'd moved to Svalbard. He'd been a little interested in Andreas when he'd first met him, but it had quickly died out. Andreas had been fully devoted to Christian. Andreas and him had turned out to be great friends instead, and that was a friendship that Jørgen valued more than anything.

Then there was Frey ... Frey who blushed and stuttered and seemed afraid of everything. Jørgen should keep far away from him, but he simply couldn't. Frey drew him in like nothing else ever had. He had white-blond hair that was a little too long, but the length fit him. His eyes were moss-green, Jørgen's new favorite color. Frey wasn't very tall, he barely reached Jørgen up to his shoulders.

Jørgen was brought out of his thoughts by the squash ball hitting him right in the stomach. He groaned at the impact, the little thing hurt, then threw a glare at Karina.

"Don't give me that. You were the one going off into la-la land." Karina bent down to retrieve the squash ball. "I think you should just ask him. Walk up to him and ask him out. That way you won't have time to talk yourself out of it."

"Easy for you to say. Sara was interested in you. I don't think I'd be Frey's first choice." Jørgen didn't think anyone would be Frey's first choice. Besides, he never really saw much of him. When he did it was usually at work, when Frey came in to hang out with Andreas. Outside of that, Jørgen never saw him. Perhaps mostly because Jørgen only tended to be in one of only four places; at home, at Karina and Sara's, at work or at the sports centre.

Karina fixed him with another hard stare. "Do it."

Karina was a force to be reckoned with and Jørgen sighed in defeat. "I will. Sometime. Maybe."

"Soon, Jørgen." Karina started for the door. "Do it soon. Who knows, tourist season is coming up and maybe someone sweeps in and steal him from right under you."

Jørgen's head snapped up. She had a very good point. How often hadn't he had flings with tourists? He'd had last summer, and the summer before ... with either gay or bisexual men. Out or closeted. It hadn't mattered which, because the fling had only lasted for the short period they'd been on Svalbard.

The thought of someone else hooking up with Frey ... Jørgen didn't think it was likely, with how scared Frey always seemed to be of everything, but there was still a possibility. So Jørgen had to man up and do it. It was a simple question. If Frey was straight or not interested, that would be it, but then at least Jørgen would know.

But it was easier said than done.

WIP: Mist On the Moor

He was halfway down the first page of Elov's journal when the door opened brusquely, startling him from his deep concentration. The ink splotched on the paper and Roel frowned as he looked up at whoever had arrived in such manner. It better not be that insufferable woman--

It wasn't. It was a man. He was big and muscular, taking up almost the whole doorway. His hair was short and black, or at least so it seemed in the twilight--and he was scowling.

"Are you hurt, sir?" Roel stood up, going around the desk to help the man if something was wrong.

"I saw the light on and thought maybe it had been forgotten," he spoke gruffly. "I did not mean to disturb you in your work."

"I was almost done anyway," Roel said, not quite able to keep the annoyance of the splotched ink out of his voice. But he did not want to be rude, even if this was the man he had overheard with Teun the other day. His voice was not to be mistaken. This was the foreman ...

Dark eyes stared down at Roel for a moment before the man swept his gaze over the room in general. "I sent Elov to see you earlier today. He never came back to work." His voice was accusing.

"Elov will be fine," Roel told him. "I ordered him to go home and rest for today. He'll be back fully tomorrow, all healed."

The man seemed to reluctantly look over at Roel again. "You healed his foot?"

"I did." Roel nodded. "Even if I am young, I am a doctor, not a novice." That would tell the man clearly that Roel had heard exactly what he had said and that he did not appreciate it.

Those dark eyes seemed to bury into Roel as the man just stared at him coldly, then he nodded his head once and left.

Roel shook his head as the door slammed closed behind him. That man had judged him from the moment Roel had arrived, but Roel would show him differently. He'd show him just what a good doctor he actually was.

Sitting down on his chair, he sighed as he took a new piece of parchment and started over on Elov's journal. He wanted everything to be done before he left for the evening, he wanted everything to be perfect.

Because he could not let the foreman be right.

He was going to prove himself, he was going to help the people of this dreadful coal village and hopefully bring some life back into the tired people he had seen so far.

And the foreman ... well, he could be as judgmental as he wanted. Eventually he'd have to see just how good of a job Roel did, especially when his workers came back healthy. Eventually, he would have to admit it and Roel could not wait.

WIP: Silver & Kian

"I have a confession to make."

Kian turned back around at Silver's low voice. "What?" he asked, from lack of anything better to say.

"I kind of bribed Chloe." Silver finished putting away all the equipment he'd used, then turned and leaned back against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest, making already tight t-shirt tighten over his broad shoulders.

"Bribed her?" Kian shook his head slightly, not understanding.

"I told her I'd do her tattoo all for free if she brought you with her."

Kian blinked. "But ... why?"

Silver chuckled, but the way his eyes suddenly couldn't meet Kian's, it was obvious he was at least a little on edge. He's nervous. "Why would I possibly want to spend time with you?"

It clicked for Kian and his heart sped up. Silver wanted to spend time with him. With him. But ... "How do you know who I am?" Kian asked, the first thing falling into his mind at that declaration. "I have no idea who you are."

"Yeah, I'd imagine you don't." Silver looked at a spot above Kian's head. "I've known Chloe a while now, and I've been to the salon several times. Chloe always cuts my hair. And you've never so much as even looked at me."

Kian swallowed heavily. "I-I'm sorry," he managed to stutter out. Silver had known who he was for some time and he wanted Kian's attention. It was ... the most flattering thing Kian had ever heard.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault." Silver smiled slightly.

"But I am. I do," Kian pressed. "If I'd seen you ... Trust me, I wouldn't have forgotten you." Oh no, he would certainly not forget that face, nor that body. Silver was a wet dream.

Silver's steel gray eyes locked with Kian's. "Oh really?"

"Yes." Kian stared back at him. "You could've just gotten my attention, you know."

"Didn't I already get it?" One corner of Silver's mouth quirked up into a wry smile.

Kian blinked again, surprised, then a smile slowly spread on his lips. "Yeah," he muttered, feeling both flustered and flattered all at once at Silver's sudden interest. "Yeah, you did. You had it from the moment you opened that door."

Kian took several steps forward, closer to Silver who was still leaning back against the counter. He might sound like an idiot, an insecure idiot, but he couldn't help but ask what was on his mind. "Why me? What is it about me that caught your attention?"

Silver moved so fast Kian could only gasp in surprise as he was being yanked close. "I don't really know," he said, his voice husky. "Maybe it was your hair. It was a bright green the first time I saw you. Very catching, for sure." Silver tangled one hand in Kian's hair, which was currently black with rainbow-dyed tips. "Or maybe your pretty face." Silver's free hand cupped the side of Kian's cheek, his thumb rubbing softly over Kian's lips.

Kian didn't know what to say. He could only stare into the steel gray eyes and think that he had never experienced anything like this.

Silver used his grip on Kian's hair to tilt his head further up, and in the next second Kian found himself being firmly kissed. Kian wrapped his arms around Silver's waist, pressing himself up against him as he kissed him back with all he had.

WIP: Returning Home

"Did you hear that Bengt Andersen died the other day?"

"I heard he drank himself to death."

"Hardly a surprise, is it? The man always raved around drunk."

"You think David will be back for the funeral?"

"He must come back for his old man's funeral, surely. He is his son."

"I wouldn't be so sure about it, considering the way he left town."

Harald maneuvered his shopping cart past the two middle-aged women talking by the fruit section. Everywhere he walked today people were whispering about the very same subject--Bengt Andersen and his son David.

Harald rarely listened to town-gossip, he had better things to do than pay attention to rumors, but this had piqued his interest. "Bengt Andersen has a son?" he finally asked his friend, Sune Eriksen, in a low voice.

"He sure has," Sune replied, picking up a bag of chips and dropping it into his own cart. "You haven't heard about David Andersen?" Sune shook his head, seeming to realize who he was talking to. "Of course you haven't. You don't listen to gossip."

"But I am Bengt Andersen's closest neighbor," Harald pointed out, "and I've only ever seen his sister and her family around."

"David left town twelve years ago," Sune told him. "As far as I know, he hasn't been back since."

Harald mulled on that. Being Bengt Andersen's neighbor he was bound to meet the man more often than most and he knew he was no kind or sympathetic man. He came off as harsh and bitter, not to mention constantly drunk and smelling like it.

"People aren't remotely sorry about Bengt Andersens's death." Sune's voice broke into his thoughts. "They're all just waiting like vultures to see if David comes back. People in this town talk to much." Sune shook his head in exasperation.

Harald didn't say anything. He liked this town, but then he had not grown up in it. He did not have the history that the natives had. Harald had come here from Oslo, and it had been quite a change, but to him it had been a nice one. Sure, people talked, but as long as he didn't feed into it or listen to it, all was well.

Harald and Sune emerged out on the sidewalk after they'd paid for their groceries, only to find the three people standing together in a group a few feet away, everyone's attention across the street. Harald couldn't help but follow their looks and he spotted Eva Grahn from the beauty salon standing on the sidewalk opposite them talking with a younger man.

"So David did come back," Sune spoke up at Harald's side. "I don't think I would've, if it had been me." 

WIP: Apocalypse

Last week you got a little taste of a finished contemporary short story. This week, I thought I'd post a snippet from the WIP I'm actually writing. It's all about angels and the Apocalypse. Fun times!

...

Michael ran his hand through long, silky, black tresses, loving the feel of that soft hair gliding through his fingers.

His lover knelt in front of him, between his knees. His arms were wrapped around Michael’s hips, and his face rested against Michael’s clothed abdomen.

They were in Michael’s sitting room. The curtains were closed, though it wouldn’t have mattered if they were or not. It was still light inside.

"Come up here," Michael whispered, and his beloved instantly rose from the floor to straddle Michael’s thighs. Their lips met in soft kisses, their cheeks brushed together in a small, but intimate caress of skin on skin.

But it wasn’t enough. Michael had to feel more skin, more of the beautiful man who was his—only his. He slid his hands inside the black, satin robe and stroked a flat, hard chest. The gown loosened and fell down over slender shoulders, showing that perfect torso off to the room as a whole. But only Michael was there to see the perfection. Just as it should be ...

"Michael ..." His lover’s sensual voice fanned over his lips and Michael leaned forward to catch those plump lips in a deep, intimate, loving kiss. "Oh beloved, let us never part ..."

"I could never part from you, love," Michael whispered in answer. "You’re my one and only, you are my light."

"Oh, Michael," he groaned, plastering their bodies together and kissing Michael passionately. Michael let his arm fall down to wrap around his beloved’s waist, while his other gently caressed its way up the soft neck to tangle in the silky hair at the nape of his neck. The hair was so long it reached the middle of his back, and Michael could never get enough of it. "Michael," he sighed. He loved Michael’s hands in his hair as much as Michael loved having them there. "Michael ..."

"Michael!"

Michael broke the kiss and looked over his beloved’s shoulder, and saw to his horror Jibril standing there. The scene dissolved and where his beloved’s weight had just been, there was now nothing but air.

"No!" He cried out. "Lu!"

And he sat up straight in his bed, looking around with wide eyes. Jibril stood to his side, expression neutral, but her eyes swirled with emotions and questions she would never ask.

Michael felt embarrassed at being caught in one of his bittersweet memories, and he threw his legs over the edge of his bed and pulled his breeches on, then a tunic. He cinched it with a belt, and wrapped his sword-belt around his hips as well. He needed the reassuring weight of his sword at his hip.

He didn’t once look at Jibril as he made himself presentable.

"We’re meeting Raphael and Uriel outside," Jibril spoke up, voice low as she glided past him towards the door.

Michael followed her silently, wondering if he should say something or not. Should he tell her that it was a memory, that he’d had an affair so long ago with a now Exiled angel? Or should he let her think the most probable, that he’d only lusted after the angel? Because she couldn’t possible know the dream had been spurned by resurfacing memories.

WIP: Scarred Souls

This is technically finished, but I'm on such a roll with the 30 Days of Character Development, that I want to post some of Josh and Damian, whom we first met in my short Reunited. This is a snippet from Scarred Souls, the story of how they met.

...

Damian put the strap of his bag over his shoulder and he clutched at is as he waited for the room to empty.

Doc turned to him when the door closed, a tentative smile on her lips. "You weren't comfortable with this at all?"

Damian simply shook his head.

"I think you should give it a couple more tries before you make up your mind."

"Why? This isn't for me. You should know that." Damian shrugged helplessly.

"I think this will be good for you," Doc said. "I think group therapy will help you open up more. You need to loosen up a little, Damien. You need to meet new people. And here is a group of young people that are struggling, someone you might be able to relate to."

Damian wanted to tell her that he couldn't care less about any of them when the door opened. Damian turned his head and stared at the young man that entered. He was Damian's age and height, with tussled blond hair and the greenest eyes. He was thin and had a nervous air about him.

His green eyes looked wide-eyed back at Damian, then they cut over to Doc. "Is group over?"

"Hi, Josh." Doc smiled softly at him and stepped closer. "Yes, we just finished. If you want to talk however, I'm available."

"Ah, no, that's ok." His green eyes flickered to Damian again and Damian found himself fascinated by them. Those eyes left him flustered and Damian quickly looked away. "I'll see you Thursday." The sound of the door closing quietly told Damian of his departure.

"That was the last member of our group." Doc turned back to Damian. "You'll meet him properly on Thursday."

Damian stared at her for a few seconds, then he nodded. "Thursday then."