On My Skin - Part Three
Title: On My Skin
Author: escapes
Artist: mizumichan
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. If I owned them things would have ended a lot differently.
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Noah, Casey, Maddie, The Colonel
Word Count: 25,000 so far. WIP but will be completed shortly.
Warnings: Some violence, some smut, drama, a minimum of political goings-on
Spoilers: Show's over. So if you're being spoiled, Im sorry for your luck, son
Summary: AU set in the near future. Luke is the public face of the Amorial Vine implant, a nano-skin technology that reacts to the chemicals your body produces when you meet your soulmate. Billions have found the love of their life, but Luke's arm has remained stubbornly blank. Noah Mayer is the son of Colonel Winston Mayer and quietly fund the campaign in his the Colonel's shadow. When he starts to learn things about the way the campaign is being run behind his back, Noah leaves and takes a position about Northwestern teaching Film Studies. He's taking his life back and the first thing he does to celebrate his freedom is get the implant, something the Colonel had forbidden. With the move and the implant, Noah sets off chain of events that change change five lives and the fate of a nation.
Go see the amazing art here: http://mizumichan.livejournal.com/251114.html
Author’s Notes: I'm sorry for the delay in posting and the fact that it's still a WIP. There ware times during this that my life seemed like it was actively conspiring against me to get it done, up to the death of a family member in the days before my original posting date. I apologize that it's being posted as a WIP, but I will keep going until it's done and post it asap. Very big thank you's to crownroyal_51 noelleleithe and freakykat for the cheerleading and betas.
Part 1 | Part 2
Part 3
Noah opened the message he’d been sent and smiled at the official email confirming the plans he’d made were in place. Luckily it was a slow day, their last in Washington before hitting the campaign trail.
Making his way across the room, he knocked once at the doorframe of the anteroom of the suite that the Colonel was using as his command center.
“Enter.”
Noah made sure his tie was straight and jacket hanging neatly before he walked into the room. “Good afternoon, Sir. Your calendar has been updated and travel arrangements confirmed for the first three stops on the itinerary. Sarah, the intern, has been trained fully on keeping the calendar updated and she’ll be continuing to do so in the future. The campaign will having a new manager coming on-board today. Here is his file.”
Noah handed over the dossier to the Colonel. “I’ll be getting him up to speed over the next day or two and he’ll be taking over.”
“Just where do you think you’re going, boy?”
Noah kept his face impassive, just like the Colonel did, but he knew he’d struck a surprising blow when there was a beat of silence before the question. He didn’t show the same hesitation when answering him. “I’ve received an offer of an associate professorship from Northwestern. I took the liberty of contacting Major McLane to see if he had a recommendation that would perform to your expectations.”
Noah was very careful to keep his tone neutral. He couldn’t give the Colonel any clue how happy he was that the arrangements were made and confirmed to get him away from being an unpaid employee to his father’s ego-driven campaign for the White House. Knowing what the Colonel was planning made it even harder to be stuck with him nearly 24 hours a day. He’d been burying himself under the Colonel’s expectations for so long that being this close to freedom was almost intoxicating.
He watched as the Colonel flipped through the papers in the dossier and nodded sharply, effectively dismissing him. Noah knew the Colonel’s carefully controlled pride would never allow him to show any sort of reaction to the fact that he was leaving, other than displeasure. It seemed to be the Colonel’s default reaction to anything Noah said or did. The was no way he could argue with the replacement that Noah had found. The man was decorated Army, this was his first job after discharge less than a week ago, and he came highly recommended by one of the Colonel’s few friends, Major McLane.
Turning on his heels, Noah made his way out of the room, closed the door behind him, and finally allowed the smile to come to his face. That had felt pretty damn good.
He allowed himself a moment to savor it and then straightened his tie, letting the familiar facade he’s had to hold this whole campaign descend again. Only a day or two, and he’d be out of here.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Noah closed the door to his newly sublet apartment in North Evanston behind him, his two suitcases, laptop case, and carry-on the only things he’d have until the rest of his things arrived from Missouri, where they’d been in storage since he’d finished school and joined the Colonel on the campaign trail.
Getting the new guy up to speed had been remarkably easy. Built like a standard issue soldier, long on muscles and short on talking, he was whip-smart and seemed almost at ease with the Colonel’s sharp commands and inability to accept anything that didn’t fit into his narrow world view. The two of them were remarkably well-suited to each other. Noah wasn’t sure if that was good or terrifying.
He’d only allowed himself to breathe out the last of the tension running through him when he stepped out of the plane and into the bustle of O’Hare. He’d kept thinking that something was going to happen to pull him back into the Colonel’s campaign, but with the Colonel on his way to Texas for a press junket and Noah in Chicago, it finally felt like there was enough distance between them that he could relax.
With no furniture yet, except a mattress that was going to be delivered later that day, Noah wheeled the suitcases to the bedroom and opened them, pulling out his toiletries and dropping them in the bathroom. Making his way back to the entryway, he grabbed his laptop case and walked across the empty expanse of sun-dappled wood floors through the living room area to the room in the apartment that had made him sublet this place over any of the others. It was a study that had entrances from both the living room and the kitchen, a pair of glass-paneled wood doors at each of them. Inside the room was the same richly stained wood floors that went throughout the rest of the apartment. On the lone wall that didn’t have its expanse interrupted by doors or windows, built-in bookcases spanned from corner to corner. He could house his entire movie collection and every book he owned and still have room to expand both before even coming close to running out of room.
To his left, a bank of windows faced out onto the tree-lined street, the sun filtering through the leaves and creating an ever-changing kaleidoscope of shadow and light on the floor. Walking to the windows, he unlocked them and pushed one open enough to let the breeze in.
Within a few minutes, he’d circled the apartment, opening the windows in the bedroom, bathroom, and living room enough to air the place out. Pulling out a towel from his suitcase, Noah looked at his watch and decided he had just enough time to shower and get some groceries before the mattress came.
Noah did have one thing he needed to do before anything else. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and raising his hand to his temple, he unlocked the stream on his glasses and blinked into his contacts, waiting as the line connected. When he heard the familiar prompt, he spoke the numbers that would connect him where he needed to go. A second later, the line was picked up.
“Chicago Sperm Bank, you squeeze it, we freeze it. This is Jack speaking.”
Noah barked out a laugh. “You were just waiting for me to call, weren’t you?”
Kai cackled back. “Pretty much. You find the place okay?”
“Yeah,” Noah said as he looked around at the Art Deco details in the coved ceiling and molding at the top of the wall and onto the ceiling. “I think I’m going to enjoy my time here.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Mayer?”
Noah knew that Kai was concerned and when Kai was concerned his inner mother hen came out. “Yes. I know it seems like it would have made more sense to stay with the campaign to find out more of what he has planned, but if he was able to plan this far without me knowing… he doesn’t trust me, Kai. He’s never going to trust me.”
“No offense, man, but you have the most fucked up family.”
Noah huffed a breath out. “I know.”
“Even with the fucked-up-ed-ness, are you sure you want to do this? He’s never going to forgive this, Noah. You can still change your mind and it’ll be no harm, no foul.”
Noah stopped mid-step in his circle of the apartment while he talked. “And watch him destroy lives? No. We may not trust each other, but I know how that bastard thinks. I stopped thinking of him as family a long time ago. Even in my head, he’s the Colonel, not my father.”
“You know you’ll always have a family with me. Hell, my Tutu is determined to find you a nice island boy to settle down with.”
Noah grinned at the thought of Kai’s tiny, feisty grandma sizing up any gay local on her island for him. “Your Tutu is awesome, but I’m kinda scared about who she’d chose for me.”
“You and me both. But her being busy with finding a nice boy for you means she’s stopped pushing nice girls at me. So under the bus you stay, my friend.”
Noah laughed and finished his conversations with Kai before he grabbed his towel again and headed for the shower.
It was only when he was getting dressed after his shower, reaching automatically for a suit, that he realized that things are different now. He could be himself. He could wear what he wanted, not what the Colonel considered respectable. He pulled his hand back and considered his options, then pulled out his favorite pair of jeans. A little more digging in his suitcase unearthed a t-shirt and button-up plaid shirt that had been everyday staples before joining the Colonel’s campaign. With a few more minutes of taming his wet hair, Noah was out of the door in search of a few groceries, feeling lighter than he had since the moment he joined up with the Colonel.
He was just unlocking the door to the building, his arms draped with grocery bags, as the truck with his new mattress and bed frame pulled up. Within twenty minutes, he had a brand-new bed as the only piece of furniture in the apartment, an offer by one of the men delivering it to help him break it in, and a recommendation on the best club to hit this weekend in Boystown.
Noah had a feeling he was really going to like Chicago.
By Saturday morning, Noah’s boxes had been delivered from storage and the kitchen stocked. He could finally cook for himself again. He’d had enough hotel room service to last him for the rest of his life. There was just one more thing that he needed to do today. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he made his way to the transit stop and into Midtown.
Double-checking the address he’d been given, Noah looked up at the building and swallowed down the metallic tang of nerves creeping up the back of his throat. He knew if he did this that there was no going back. This was the last point he could turn back and abandon the mission. If he went through with this, everything would change, he would change, in a way that couldn’t be forgiven by the Colonel, the only blood relative he had left.
Looking down again, Noah closed his eyes and stayed still on the sidewalk for a moment and thought of everything he knew and everything that could happen. Running over all the scenarios in his head managed to clear the nerves away like they were nothing more substantial than the clouds that were buffeting across the sky above him on the wind.
His feet were moving before his eyes were fully open and his arm reaching for the door, pulling it open. He met the eyes of the receptionist and reached into his pocket, pulling out his identity card and handing it to her. She glanced down at the holographic picture and waved it in front of her, the beep of the scan signalling he’d been checked in, and handed it back to him. "They’re ready for you. Suite 4, the second door on the left.”
Noah took the card back and pulled his backpack from his shoulders, slipping the card in the front pocket and making his way down the hall. Before he entered the suite, he raised his right arm up so he could see the unmarked skin there for the last time.
It was time to join the rest of civilization.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
“Casey, I’m not going to punk out on you. I swear. I just need 15 minutes to finish getting ready. Start on your way over now and I’ll be ready by the time you get here. Jesus, you’re like a nagging wife.”
Luke heard the snort on the other end of the line. “You could only hope someone as hot as I’d be if I was a girl would marry you. Fine! I’m on my way and you better be ready. I understand that it takes you old guys more time to make yourselves pretty.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck you, Hughes. You’re older than me, so your argument doesn’t make sense.”
“Only in years, Luke. I swear sometimes you’re a cranky 80-year-old stuffed into a 30-year-old’s body.”
Luke let out a long breath and counted to ten in his head. It was something he found himself doing a lot of around Casey. “I’m hanging up on you now. Get your ass over here.”
Not even waiting for a response, Luke clicked off his phone and threw it on the couch as he made his way to the bathroom to give one last attempt at getting his hair to stop being a cowlicky mess.
Just to be a bitch, Luke made sure that he was waiting at the elevator when Casey came up, pushed him back inside of it, and hit the button for the ground floor. “I already called for a cab.”
Casey just nodded, it was standard practice for them on their nights out. “Ready to celebrate your birthday, man?”
Luke shrugged a shoulder. “Ready to have a night out. Please don’t make a big deal about my birthday. Everyone on the planet already knows.”
Luke could see Casey’s pout clearly in the polished doors of the elevator for a second before they slid open and released them into the lobby. “Oh hello, 80-year-old Luke. Could you please die in a fire and let my best friend out to play?”
Shooting his middle finger over his shoulder, he heard Casey let out a bark of laughter as he nodded at the doorman and got in the cab that was waiting for them.
Berlin was already hopping, as it usually was on weekends. It was a pretty middle of the road club, but it had good music, a VIP area, a backroom, and most important for Luke, a mixed crowd. Nothing was worse that hearing Casey whine all night about the lack of straight girls that were willing to humor his lame come-ons.
As far as wingmen went, Casey one of the best. They kept an eye on each other, but didn’t spend the night superglued together. They both kept an eye on each other, Luke to make sure Casey didn’t over estimate exactly how much alcohol could be absorbed by his muscular frame, and Casey to make sure that Luke stayed away from the alcohol that his one kidney would not appreciate. It worked for them and made sure they both got home at the end of the night in one piece. They’d been hitting the clubs in Chicago since they were old enough to get in and were regulars to a few, like Berlin.
Being regulars did have its advantages. Luke and Casey were able to leave the cab and enter the club, bypassing the line. The owner had their names permanently on his private VIP list, which got them in the club, in the VIP section, with drinks in their hand within 5 minutes.
Luke sipped at his drink, made especially for him by Jake, his favorite bartender. It looked like any other mixed drink in the crowd, but only Luke, Casey, and Jake knew there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in it. Like the long sleeves covering his bare forearm, the drink stopped any awkward questions or stares about kidneys and gunshots and let Luke blend in enough in the press of bodies to be able to relax.
Once he’d mingled a little, getting birthday wishes and talking to the curious about the rally announcement, about the candidates that were going to be there, and whether Drake Stratton really was as hot as he seemed in pictures and news clips, Luke sat for a few minutes, nursing his drink and letting the lights and music wash over him. The club was packed, and the DJ was on fire tonight. The dance floor was so crowded it was hard to know who was dancing with who, or if it even mattered.
The bass washed over him, rattling through his chest and making his feet start tapping in the same rhythm. Raising his glass, Luke swallowed down the last of his drink and stood, nodding at Casey, who was chatting up a pretty little brunette that he’d seen here before. Casey raised his eyebrows and did a stupid upper body movement with his arms that looked like the even more stupid Cabbage Patch dance move from the ‘80s. Luke rolled his eyes and nodded that yes, he was going to the dance floor.
Within two minutes of hitting the edge of the dance floor and being swallowed up by the crowd, Luke felt the press of familiar flesh in front of and behind him. Smiling as arms twined around his waist from both directions as well, Luke leaned his head back and looked into amused brown eyes. “Hello, Jeff.” He raised his head and looked forward at the mirror image of the man behind him, both of them tall, lean, bronzed skin with chocolate brown eyes and dimples you could store spare change in. “Hello, Jared.”
“Hey Luke,” they both answered at the same time, then rolled their eyes at each other. They hated talking in tandem, but Luke somehow managed to bring it out in them.
There wasn’t any further talking as they fell into rhythm with the beat, lower bodies grinding against each other and upper bodies doing the same, arms and hands alternating between moving to the music and sliding over material and skin. Luke and the Garanaldi twins always seemed to start their night dancing with each other. Which was fine with Luke. The twins were always a lot of fun without crossing the line into predator mode.
It probably helped that the twins and Luke had started going to clubs just around the same time, making the journey through the Boystown from chicken, to twink, to aging into reputations that were good enough to give them their choice of dance and backroom partners.
Luke felt a teasing tug on his hair from Jeff behind him. “You need a haircut, Luciano.”
Shrugging, Luke let him get away with calling him by his given first name. “Been a little busy, Jeff.” He turned his head and smirked over his shoulder. “Besides, didn’t you say something about liking longer hair so you can get a good grip?”
Jeff leaned forward and nipped the curve of Luke’s ear gently. “Don’t tease. We both know you’re not going to follow through on that.”
Jared laughed in front of him, shaking his head. “It’s not our fault we’re twins, Luke. If you can’t decide between us, the polite thing to do is have us both.”
Luke could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as he shook his head at the twins, who were now chuckling at the blush they’d managed to bring to Luke’s face, yet again. Call him old fashioned, but he like the dynamic he had with the twins too much to wreck it by adding a threesome into the mix.
They decided to let him off of the hook and started dancing again, their hands more teasing now than wandering with temptation. Luke breathed a sigh of relief and kept rhythm with the twins while he looked around at the other dancers.
About ten feet away was a dancer who’d caught his eye, even though he could only see the back of him. And what a back it was. He could only see glimpses through the dancing people between them, but what he’d seen had shown off a long, lithe body, with arms that spoke of hours at the gym. When the light hit right, his shirt outlined the play of muscles on his back.
He looked new. To the club, definitely, but Luke had to wonder if he was new to being gay as well, from the tension he could see in the way the other man was holding himself.
Luke kept watching the other man, catching glimpses of him through the crowd. He’d been watching for a few minutes when he saw the reason for the tension he could see radiating off of the other man. Disengaging himself from the twins, Luke made his way through the 10 feet separating them. He had to wonder why he was leaving friends to help out a noob to the club like this, but what could he say? He’d never been able to resist a damsel… or dude in this case, in distress.
Waiting for his opening, Luke slid in between his dude and his… enthusiastic dance partner.
“Back off, Snyder! I was dancing with him!”
Luke didn’t look back at Carson, the club’s resident dance floor disaster. “And now I’m dancing with him. You don’t mind, do you?”
Luke looked up in his new dance partner’s face and had to stop himself from doing a double take. Between the surprise and the intensity of the blue eyes looking down at him, Luke found himself really hoping he didn’t mind.
“God no! Um… I mean...”
Luke chuckled and looked over his shoulder at Carson. “Sorry buddy. You’ll have to find some other newbie to terrorize.”
Luke turned back around and smiled into blue eyes. “Hi, I’m Luke.”
His partner was still dancing a little awkwardly, but the tension was draining out of him by the second. “Ben…Wilson.”
Luke managed to keep his eyebrows down. Well, this was interesting. “Which one is it? Ben or Wilson?”
“First name Ben, last name Wilson.”
Luke nodded in understanding, “Okay, we’ll go with that.” He flicked his eyes back towards Carson, who had gone back to dancing by himself. “Carson’s harmless, he’s just…” Luke trailed off, trying to find the right words for it.
“A menace to his dance partner and the dance floor in general?”
Luke laughed at the wry tone. “There is that. He doesn’t mean any harm. He came up in the clubs in the era of the rave and the glow stick dancing and never really let it go.”
Blue eyes flicked over Luke’s shoulder for a second, watching Carson’s dance stylings. “It makes more sense now. I thought maybe he was an interpretive dance major or something. A really bad one.” His eyes tracked back to Luke and he smiled “Thank you for rescuing me, Luke.”
Luke laughed and shook his head. “No problem. You can thank me by dancing.”
“Do you have any glow sticks?”
Luke laughed again and raised his hands, splaying out his fingers. “None.”
“Won’t your two friends miss the middle of their sandwich?”
Luke looked down at the strong hands that were spanning his waist and hid his smirk. So, he’d been noticed as well. “Not at all.” He looked over to where he’d left the twins, and sure enough, they already had someone dancing in between them. “I’ve already been replaced.”
“Their loss, my gain.”
Luke felt his cheeks flush for the second time that night and covered it up by pulling the other man closer and starting to move to the beat against him.
It only took a second for their bodies to move in the same rhythm, and Luke found out Ben was actually a pretty good dancer when he wasn’t terrified about being hit in the head by Carson’s flailing arms.
One song bled into another and Luke was trying to think of a way to keep them dancing together. It turned out he needn’t have worried as the beat shifted something low and pounding, the pace on the dance floor going from frenetic to a slower groove as Luke felt himself pulled closer to the hard body of his dance partner. The fingertips digging into the hips of his jeans didn’t loosen their hold at all.
Luke shifted closer, and maybe he was crazy, but it felt to him like their bodies were made in a way that just fit together. Hearing a startled inhale of breath just above his ear, Luke thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling it.
They continued to move with the music and Luke felt the hands that were planted on hips start to move towards the small of his back. By the end of the song, they were wrapped around his waist loosely. Luke kept dancing, hoping that this wasn’t the end of their time together. As the beat picked up again, Luke breathed out in relief.
“You think I was gonna go back to Captain Glowstick?”
Luke chuckled and lifted his head to look up into amused blue eyes. “You never know. You could be an adrenaline junkie that gets off on dodging flailing fist pumps.”
Luke seriously wanted to nibble the adam's apple that was bobbing in front of him as his dance partner laughed. It was really too bad this guy was so good looking, and nice, and had a great sense of humor and… Luke cut off his train of thought Don’t get ahead of yourself, Snyder, he thought as he smiled.
They continued to dance and talk as much as they could over the music. Things like where they’d grown up, what colleges they’d gone to, all the getting to know the person you’re grinding up against small talk.
By the end of the fourth song, Luke’s pants were painfully tight, and he was ready to move things along.
Just as he was about to say something, the song they were dancing to held one tone that ascended over four octaves, building to a climax that glitter cannons of the light show shot of a spray of white and silver mylar strips in the most un-subtle dance floor entendre ever.
The both looked up as the strips rained all over them and Luke smirked. “I’m about to be as completely subtle as those,” he said, nodding in the direction of where the glitter had shot from. “You want to go with me to the backroom?”
“God, yes.”
Luke let his hand be grabbed, but held back before he could be pulled into moving. “One thing before we start anything. We both know your name is not Ben Wilson.”
PART FOUR
Author: escapes
Artist: mizumichan
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. If I owned them things would have ended a lot differently.
Characters/Pairings: Luke/Noah, Casey, Maddie, The Colonel
Word Count: 25,000 so far. WIP but will be completed shortly.
Warnings: Some violence, some smut, drama, a minimum of political goings-on
Spoilers: Show's over. So if you're being spoiled, Im sorry for your luck, son
Summary: AU set in the near future. Luke is the public face of the Amorial Vine implant, a nano-skin technology that reacts to the chemicals your body produces when you meet your soulmate. Billions have found the love of their life, but Luke's arm has remained stubbornly blank. Noah Mayer is the son of Colonel Winston Mayer and quietly fund the campaign in his the Colonel's shadow. When he starts to learn things about the way the campaign is being run behind his back, Noah leaves and takes a position about Northwestern teaching Film Studies. He's taking his life back and the first thing he does to celebrate his freedom is get the implant, something the Colonel had forbidden. With the move and the implant, Noah sets off chain of events that change change five lives and the fate of a nation.
Go see the amazing art here: http://mizumichan.livejournal.com/251114.html
Author’s Notes: I'm sorry for the delay in posting and the fact that it's still a WIP. There ware times during this that my life seemed like it was actively conspiring against me to get it done, up to the death of a family member in the days before my original posting date. I apologize that it's being posted as a WIP, but I will keep going until it's done and post it asap. Very big thank you's to crownroyal_51 noelleleithe and freakykat for the cheerleading and betas.
Part 1 | Part 2
Part 3
Noah opened the message he’d been sent and smiled at the official email confirming the plans he’d made were in place. Luckily it was a slow day, their last in Washington before hitting the campaign trail.
Making his way across the room, he knocked once at the doorframe of the anteroom of the suite that the Colonel was using as his command center.
“Enter.”
Noah made sure his tie was straight and jacket hanging neatly before he walked into the room. “Good afternoon, Sir. Your calendar has been updated and travel arrangements confirmed for the first three stops on the itinerary. Sarah, the intern, has been trained fully on keeping the calendar updated and she’ll be continuing to do so in the future. The campaign will having a new manager coming on-board today. Here is his file.”
Noah handed over the dossier to the Colonel. “I’ll be getting him up to speed over the next day or two and he’ll be taking over.”
“Just where do you think you’re going, boy?”
Noah kept his face impassive, just like the Colonel did, but he knew he’d struck a surprising blow when there was a beat of silence before the question. He didn’t show the same hesitation when answering him. “I’ve received an offer of an associate professorship from Northwestern. I took the liberty of contacting Major McLane to see if he had a recommendation that would perform to your expectations.”
Noah was very careful to keep his tone neutral. He couldn’t give the Colonel any clue how happy he was that the arrangements were made and confirmed to get him away from being an unpaid employee to his father’s ego-driven campaign for the White House. Knowing what the Colonel was planning made it even harder to be stuck with him nearly 24 hours a day. He’d been burying himself under the Colonel’s expectations for so long that being this close to freedom was almost intoxicating.
He watched as the Colonel flipped through the papers in the dossier and nodded sharply, effectively dismissing him. Noah knew the Colonel’s carefully controlled pride would never allow him to show any sort of reaction to the fact that he was leaving, other than displeasure. It seemed to be the Colonel’s default reaction to anything Noah said or did. The was no way he could argue with the replacement that Noah had found. The man was decorated Army, this was his first job after discharge less than a week ago, and he came highly recommended by one of the Colonel’s few friends, Major McLane.
Turning on his heels, Noah made his way out of the room, closed the door behind him, and finally allowed the smile to come to his face. That had felt pretty damn good.
He allowed himself a moment to savor it and then straightened his tie, letting the familiar facade he’s had to hold this whole campaign descend again. Only a day or two, and he’d be out of here.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Noah closed the door to his newly sublet apartment in North Evanston behind him, his two suitcases, laptop case, and carry-on the only things he’d have until the rest of his things arrived from Missouri, where they’d been in storage since he’d finished school and joined the Colonel on the campaign trail.
Getting the new guy up to speed had been remarkably easy. Built like a standard issue soldier, long on muscles and short on talking, he was whip-smart and seemed almost at ease with the Colonel’s sharp commands and inability to accept anything that didn’t fit into his narrow world view. The two of them were remarkably well-suited to each other. Noah wasn’t sure if that was good or terrifying.
He’d only allowed himself to breathe out the last of the tension running through him when he stepped out of the plane and into the bustle of O’Hare. He’d kept thinking that something was going to happen to pull him back into the Colonel’s campaign, but with the Colonel on his way to Texas for a press junket and Noah in Chicago, it finally felt like there was enough distance between them that he could relax.
With no furniture yet, except a mattress that was going to be delivered later that day, Noah wheeled the suitcases to the bedroom and opened them, pulling out his toiletries and dropping them in the bathroom. Making his way back to the entryway, he grabbed his laptop case and walked across the empty expanse of sun-dappled wood floors through the living room area to the room in the apartment that had made him sublet this place over any of the others. It was a study that had entrances from both the living room and the kitchen, a pair of glass-paneled wood doors at each of them. Inside the room was the same richly stained wood floors that went throughout the rest of the apartment. On the lone wall that didn’t have its expanse interrupted by doors or windows, built-in bookcases spanned from corner to corner. He could house his entire movie collection and every book he owned and still have room to expand both before even coming close to running out of room.
To his left, a bank of windows faced out onto the tree-lined street, the sun filtering through the leaves and creating an ever-changing kaleidoscope of shadow and light on the floor. Walking to the windows, he unlocked them and pushed one open enough to let the breeze in.
Within a few minutes, he’d circled the apartment, opening the windows in the bedroom, bathroom, and living room enough to air the place out. Pulling out a towel from his suitcase, Noah looked at his watch and decided he had just enough time to shower and get some groceries before the mattress came.
Noah did have one thing he needed to do before anything else. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and raising his hand to his temple, he unlocked the stream on his glasses and blinked into his contacts, waiting as the line connected. When he heard the familiar prompt, he spoke the numbers that would connect him where he needed to go. A second later, the line was picked up.
“Chicago Sperm Bank, you squeeze it, we freeze it. This is Jack speaking.”
Noah barked out a laugh. “You were just waiting for me to call, weren’t you?”
Kai cackled back. “Pretty much. You find the place okay?”
“Yeah,” Noah said as he looked around at the Art Deco details in the coved ceiling and molding at the top of the wall and onto the ceiling. “I think I’m going to enjoy my time here.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Mayer?”
Noah knew that Kai was concerned and when Kai was concerned his inner mother hen came out. “Yes. I know it seems like it would have made more sense to stay with the campaign to find out more of what he has planned, but if he was able to plan this far without me knowing… he doesn’t trust me, Kai. He’s never going to trust me.”
“No offense, man, but you have the most fucked up family.”
Noah huffed a breath out. “I know.”
“Even with the fucked-up-ed-ness, are you sure you want to do this? He’s never going to forgive this, Noah. You can still change your mind and it’ll be no harm, no foul.”
Noah stopped mid-step in his circle of the apartment while he talked. “And watch him destroy lives? No. We may not trust each other, but I know how that bastard thinks. I stopped thinking of him as family a long time ago. Even in my head, he’s the Colonel, not my father.”
“You know you’ll always have a family with me. Hell, my Tutu is determined to find you a nice island boy to settle down with.”
Noah grinned at the thought of Kai’s tiny, feisty grandma sizing up any gay local on her island for him. “Your Tutu is awesome, but I’m kinda scared about who she’d chose for me.”
“You and me both. But her being busy with finding a nice boy for you means she’s stopped pushing nice girls at me. So under the bus you stay, my friend.”
Noah laughed and finished his conversations with Kai before he grabbed his towel again and headed for the shower.
It was only when he was getting dressed after his shower, reaching automatically for a suit, that he realized that things are different now. He could be himself. He could wear what he wanted, not what the Colonel considered respectable. He pulled his hand back and considered his options, then pulled out his favorite pair of jeans. A little more digging in his suitcase unearthed a t-shirt and button-up plaid shirt that had been everyday staples before joining the Colonel’s campaign. With a few more minutes of taming his wet hair, Noah was out of the door in search of a few groceries, feeling lighter than he had since the moment he joined up with the Colonel.
He was just unlocking the door to the building, his arms draped with grocery bags, as the truck with his new mattress and bed frame pulled up. Within twenty minutes, he had a brand-new bed as the only piece of furniture in the apartment, an offer by one of the men delivering it to help him break it in, and a recommendation on the best club to hit this weekend in Boystown.
Noah had a feeling he was really going to like Chicago.
By Saturday morning, Noah’s boxes had been delivered from storage and the kitchen stocked. He could finally cook for himself again. He’d had enough hotel room service to last him for the rest of his life. There was just one more thing that he needed to do today. Grabbing his wallet and keys, he made his way to the transit stop and into Midtown.
Double-checking the address he’d been given, Noah looked up at the building and swallowed down the metallic tang of nerves creeping up the back of his throat. He knew if he did this that there was no going back. This was the last point he could turn back and abandon the mission. If he went through with this, everything would change, he would change, in a way that couldn’t be forgiven by the Colonel, the only blood relative he had left.
Looking down again, Noah closed his eyes and stayed still on the sidewalk for a moment and thought of everything he knew and everything that could happen. Running over all the scenarios in his head managed to clear the nerves away like they were nothing more substantial than the clouds that were buffeting across the sky above him on the wind.
His feet were moving before his eyes were fully open and his arm reaching for the door, pulling it open. He met the eyes of the receptionist and reached into his pocket, pulling out his identity card and handing it to her. She glanced down at the holographic picture and waved it in front of her, the beep of the scan signalling he’d been checked in, and handed it back to him. "They’re ready for you. Suite 4, the second door on the left.”
Noah took the card back and pulled his backpack from his shoulders, slipping the card in the front pocket and making his way down the hall. Before he entered the suite, he raised his right arm up so he could see the unmarked skin there for the last time.
It was time to join the rest of civilization.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=
“Casey, I’m not going to punk out on you. I swear. I just need 15 minutes to finish getting ready. Start on your way over now and I’ll be ready by the time you get here. Jesus, you’re like a nagging wife.”
Luke heard the snort on the other end of the line. “You could only hope someone as hot as I’d be if I was a girl would marry you. Fine! I’m on my way and you better be ready. I understand that it takes you old guys more time to make yourselves pretty.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck you, Hughes. You’re older than me, so your argument doesn’t make sense.”
“Only in years, Luke. I swear sometimes you’re a cranky 80-year-old stuffed into a 30-year-old’s body.”
Luke let out a long breath and counted to ten in his head. It was something he found himself doing a lot of around Casey. “I’m hanging up on you now. Get your ass over here.”
Not even waiting for a response, Luke clicked off his phone and threw it on the couch as he made his way to the bathroom to give one last attempt at getting his hair to stop being a cowlicky mess.
Just to be a bitch, Luke made sure that he was waiting at the elevator when Casey came up, pushed him back inside of it, and hit the button for the ground floor. “I already called for a cab.”
Casey just nodded, it was standard practice for them on their nights out. “Ready to celebrate your birthday, man?”
Luke shrugged a shoulder. “Ready to have a night out. Please don’t make a big deal about my birthday. Everyone on the planet already knows.”
Luke could see Casey’s pout clearly in the polished doors of the elevator for a second before they slid open and released them into the lobby. “Oh hello, 80-year-old Luke. Could you please die in a fire and let my best friend out to play?”
Shooting his middle finger over his shoulder, he heard Casey let out a bark of laughter as he nodded at the doorman and got in the cab that was waiting for them.
Berlin was already hopping, as it usually was on weekends. It was a pretty middle of the road club, but it had good music, a VIP area, a backroom, and most important for Luke, a mixed crowd. Nothing was worse that hearing Casey whine all night about the lack of straight girls that were willing to humor his lame come-ons.
As far as wingmen went, Casey one of the best. They kept an eye on each other, but didn’t spend the night superglued together. They both kept an eye on each other, Luke to make sure Casey didn’t over estimate exactly how much alcohol could be absorbed by his muscular frame, and Casey to make sure that Luke stayed away from the alcohol that his one kidney would not appreciate. It worked for them and made sure they both got home at the end of the night in one piece. They’d been hitting the clubs in Chicago since they were old enough to get in and were regulars to a few, like Berlin.
Being regulars did have its advantages. Luke and Casey were able to leave the cab and enter the club, bypassing the line. The owner had their names permanently on his private VIP list, which got them in the club, in the VIP section, with drinks in their hand within 5 minutes.
Luke sipped at his drink, made especially for him by Jake, his favorite bartender. It looked like any other mixed drink in the crowd, but only Luke, Casey, and Jake knew there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in it. Like the long sleeves covering his bare forearm, the drink stopped any awkward questions or stares about kidneys and gunshots and let Luke blend in enough in the press of bodies to be able to relax.
Once he’d mingled a little, getting birthday wishes and talking to the curious about the rally announcement, about the candidates that were going to be there, and whether Drake Stratton really was as hot as he seemed in pictures and news clips, Luke sat for a few minutes, nursing his drink and letting the lights and music wash over him. The club was packed, and the DJ was on fire tonight. The dance floor was so crowded it was hard to know who was dancing with who, or if it even mattered.
The bass washed over him, rattling through his chest and making his feet start tapping in the same rhythm. Raising his glass, Luke swallowed down the last of his drink and stood, nodding at Casey, who was chatting up a pretty little brunette that he’d seen here before. Casey raised his eyebrows and did a stupid upper body movement with his arms that looked like the even more stupid Cabbage Patch dance move from the ‘80s. Luke rolled his eyes and nodded that yes, he was going to the dance floor.
Within two minutes of hitting the edge of the dance floor and being swallowed up by the crowd, Luke felt the press of familiar flesh in front of and behind him. Smiling as arms twined around his waist from both directions as well, Luke leaned his head back and looked into amused brown eyes. “Hello, Jeff.” He raised his head and looked forward at the mirror image of the man behind him, both of them tall, lean, bronzed skin with chocolate brown eyes and dimples you could store spare change in. “Hello, Jared.”
“Hey Luke,” they both answered at the same time, then rolled their eyes at each other. They hated talking in tandem, but Luke somehow managed to bring it out in them.
There wasn’t any further talking as they fell into rhythm with the beat, lower bodies grinding against each other and upper bodies doing the same, arms and hands alternating between moving to the music and sliding over material and skin. Luke and the Garanaldi twins always seemed to start their night dancing with each other. Which was fine with Luke. The twins were always a lot of fun without crossing the line into predator mode.
It probably helped that the twins and Luke had started going to clubs just around the same time, making the journey through the Boystown from chicken, to twink, to aging into reputations that were good enough to give them their choice of dance and backroom partners.
Luke felt a teasing tug on his hair from Jeff behind him. “You need a haircut, Luciano.”
Shrugging, Luke let him get away with calling him by his given first name. “Been a little busy, Jeff.” He turned his head and smirked over his shoulder. “Besides, didn’t you say something about liking longer hair so you can get a good grip?”
Jeff leaned forward and nipped the curve of Luke’s ear gently. “Don’t tease. We both know you’re not going to follow through on that.”
Jared laughed in front of him, shaking his head. “It’s not our fault we’re twins, Luke. If you can’t decide between us, the polite thing to do is have us both.”
Luke could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as he shook his head at the twins, who were now chuckling at the blush they’d managed to bring to Luke’s face, yet again. Call him old fashioned, but he like the dynamic he had with the twins too much to wreck it by adding a threesome into the mix.
They decided to let him off of the hook and started dancing again, their hands more teasing now than wandering with temptation. Luke breathed a sigh of relief and kept rhythm with the twins while he looked around at the other dancers.
About ten feet away was a dancer who’d caught his eye, even though he could only see the back of him. And what a back it was. He could only see glimpses through the dancing people between them, but what he’d seen had shown off a long, lithe body, with arms that spoke of hours at the gym. When the light hit right, his shirt outlined the play of muscles on his back.
He looked new. To the club, definitely, but Luke had to wonder if he was new to being gay as well, from the tension he could see in the way the other man was holding himself.
Luke kept watching the other man, catching glimpses of him through the crowd. He’d been watching for a few minutes when he saw the reason for the tension he could see radiating off of the other man. Disengaging himself from the twins, Luke made his way through the 10 feet separating them. He had to wonder why he was leaving friends to help out a noob to the club like this, but what could he say? He’d never been able to resist a damsel… or dude in this case, in distress.
Waiting for his opening, Luke slid in between his dude and his… enthusiastic dance partner.
“Back off, Snyder! I was dancing with him!”
Luke didn’t look back at Carson, the club’s resident dance floor disaster. “And now I’m dancing with him. You don’t mind, do you?”
Luke looked up in his new dance partner’s face and had to stop himself from doing a double take. Between the surprise and the intensity of the blue eyes looking down at him, Luke found himself really hoping he didn’t mind.
“God no! Um… I mean...”
Luke chuckled and looked over his shoulder at Carson. “Sorry buddy. You’ll have to find some other newbie to terrorize.”
Luke turned back around and smiled into blue eyes. “Hi, I’m Luke.”
His partner was still dancing a little awkwardly, but the tension was draining out of him by the second. “Ben…Wilson.”
Luke managed to keep his eyebrows down. Well, this was interesting. “Which one is it? Ben or Wilson?”
“First name Ben, last name Wilson.”
Luke nodded in understanding, “Okay, we’ll go with that.” He flicked his eyes back towards Carson, who had gone back to dancing by himself. “Carson’s harmless, he’s just…” Luke trailed off, trying to find the right words for it.
“A menace to his dance partner and the dance floor in general?”
Luke laughed at the wry tone. “There is that. He doesn’t mean any harm. He came up in the clubs in the era of the rave and the glow stick dancing and never really let it go.”
Blue eyes flicked over Luke’s shoulder for a second, watching Carson’s dance stylings. “It makes more sense now. I thought maybe he was an interpretive dance major or something. A really bad one.” His eyes tracked back to Luke and he smiled “Thank you for rescuing me, Luke.”
Luke laughed and shook his head. “No problem. You can thank me by dancing.”
“Do you have any glow sticks?”
Luke laughed again and raised his hands, splaying out his fingers. “None.”
“Won’t your two friends miss the middle of their sandwich?”
Luke looked down at the strong hands that were spanning his waist and hid his smirk. So, he’d been noticed as well. “Not at all.” He looked over to where he’d left the twins, and sure enough, they already had someone dancing in between them. “I’ve already been replaced.”
“Their loss, my gain.”
Luke felt his cheeks flush for the second time that night and covered it up by pulling the other man closer and starting to move to the beat against him.
It only took a second for their bodies to move in the same rhythm, and Luke found out Ben was actually a pretty good dancer when he wasn’t terrified about being hit in the head by Carson’s flailing arms.
One song bled into another and Luke was trying to think of a way to keep them dancing together. It turned out he needn’t have worried as the beat shifted something low and pounding, the pace on the dance floor going from frenetic to a slower groove as Luke felt himself pulled closer to the hard body of his dance partner. The fingertips digging into the hips of his jeans didn’t loosen their hold at all.
Luke shifted closer, and maybe he was crazy, but it felt to him like their bodies were made in a way that just fit together. Hearing a startled inhale of breath just above his ear, Luke thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling it.
They continued to move with the music and Luke felt the hands that were planted on hips start to move towards the small of his back. By the end of the song, they were wrapped around his waist loosely. Luke kept dancing, hoping that this wasn’t the end of their time together. As the beat picked up again, Luke breathed out in relief.
“You think I was gonna go back to Captain Glowstick?”
Luke chuckled and lifted his head to look up into amused blue eyes. “You never know. You could be an adrenaline junkie that gets off on dodging flailing fist pumps.”
Luke seriously wanted to nibble the adam's apple that was bobbing in front of him as his dance partner laughed. It was really too bad this guy was so good looking, and nice, and had a great sense of humor and… Luke cut off his train of thought Don’t get ahead of yourself, Snyder, he thought as he smiled.
They continued to dance and talk as much as they could over the music. Things like where they’d grown up, what colleges they’d gone to, all the getting to know the person you’re grinding up against small talk.
By the end of the fourth song, Luke’s pants were painfully tight, and he was ready to move things along.
Just as he was about to say something, the song they were dancing to held one tone that ascended over four octaves, building to a climax that glitter cannons of the light show shot of a spray of white and silver mylar strips in the most un-subtle dance floor entendre ever.
The both looked up as the strips rained all over them and Luke smirked. “I’m about to be as completely subtle as those,” he said, nodding in the direction of where the glitter had shot from. “You want to go with me to the backroom?”
“God, yes.”
Luke let his hand be grabbed, but held back before he could be pulled into moving. “One thing before we start anything. We both know your name is not Ben Wilson.”
PART FOUR