Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Kiss. ❯ Chapter 1
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Mad Maxx Coyote 
And we start.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Fantasy / Romance / Supernatural | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 04.08.2009 | Pages: 11 | Words: 11.0K | Visits: 712 | Status: Work In Progress
And we start.
Miscellaneous: Original Stories Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Fantasy / Romance / Supernatural | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 04.08.2009 | Pages: 11 | Words: 11.0K | Visits: 712 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer; I own this, all of us. All these little boys here are mine.
Connor growled to himself as he fought to get the oil filter off of the truck. Who the hell put these things on so tight? And why did the manufacturers make it so damn hard to get to them? He hated this... if he wasn't working on cars, or trucks, or vans or whatever; he was driving a truck all over the fucking place. That or working on the small farm his father owned.
He had just turned twenty-one, and was already on his way to becoming an alcoholic from all the stress and the bullshit.
"This would be so much easier if Ah had the right tool." Connor grumbled. But noooo his dumb ass brother Russell had to go and lose it. Twisting as hard as he could the filter finally gave way, of course right after it did, he slammed his hand into something sharp, ripping it open. Blood and oil ran down his arm as he turned the filter upside down and set it on the oil catch. He ignored the pain, it had only been a matter of time before he got hurt anyway. The car gods demanded a sacrifice after all.
Signing Connor pushed himself out from under the truck. He was hungry, he was thirsty, and he had to piss. But before he could even get up off of the ground Russell's big head appeared around the corner.
"Yew dun yet?" Russell snapped. His tone just pissed Connor off.
"No Ah'm not done yet!" He snarled. "Ah jus' got the damn thing off! It's gotta drain!"
"Well, what took ya so long!?" Russell spat. "Don'tcha know we've a lotta work today!"
"A'yuh, no shit." Conner growled. "That’s nuthin new. But maybe, jus' maybe, if you hadn't lost the damn wrench. Ah wouldn't have ta yank it off by hand." Russell rolled his eyes.
"Ah didn't lose it."
"Well where the hell is it then?" Conner questioned. "Cus it ain't where its supposed ta be!"
"Yer jus' too lazy." Russell scoffed. "Always trying ta find ways to git outta work."
Connor’s temper spiked, he had not eaten breakfast, had not even had a snack, and he had been dragged out of bed after a long night to do this job. Now the jackass was giving him shit?
Standing up Connor picked up a wrench.
“Russell….if you don’t git out of here, and shut up on topa that. Ah swear to God this wrench is going right in yer damn face!” Connor threatened. Russell’s face became a deeper shade of red, and he spat on the ground.
“Now listen her yew little-”
THANG!
Russell’s words were halted when the heavy wrench smashed into the concrete wall only inches from his face. Without a word Connor picked up another wrench.
“GIT!” He hollered. “Or the next one don’t miss!”
Russell’s jaw snapped shut, and he became even redder, something Connor wouldn’t have thought possible. They locked eyes with each other and after a few tense moments Russell left.
“Good riddance.” Connor growled. He was so sick of Russell and Junior’s bullshit. It was bad enough that he was twenty-one and still living in his Father’s house, mostly because his Father practically refused to left him leave, but now it was like his older siblings had drank a few dozen gallon’s of asshole. Junior had always been that way, but Russell had been decent at one time.
Now the punk felt like he had to act like he had made the right decision when he had passed on a college scholarship. Well Connor could leave….and if he had his way he would be soon. He wanted more out of his life then just turning wrenches.
Connor heard footsteps approaching and he tensed, getting ready for another shouting match. But to his pleasant surprise it was only his baby brother Ross.
With a smile Ross handed him a tall glass of lemonade.
“Figured you would need it.” Ross said softly.
“Well God bless ya.” Connor chuckled. Connor downed the glass in three big gulps, it was just what he needed.
“So why did I just see Russell come charging out of here like a pissed off rhino?” Ross asked. “And your bleeding you know.”
Connor glanced at his hand.
“Yea…Ah know.” Connor muttered. “And cuz Ah whipped a wrench at his big dumb head.”
Ross winced
“You know he’s gonna go tell dad.”
Connor shook his head, setting the now oil and blood stained glass on the workbench. A thirty-eight year old man running to tell daddy, it was pitiful, funny, but pitiful.
“Ah know…jus don’t care anymore.” Connor replied. Out of everyone he had had it with his Father the most, the overbearing old bastard was more then on his last nerve. “You git yer stuff in the mail yet?” Connor asked.
Ross shook his head.
“Beth said nothing came.”
Connor let out an exasperated sigh.
“Fer Gods sake Ross, don’t believe her. She’s just like the rest, if you count on them yer never going to get accepted.”
Ross just looked at the floor, lightly kicking at a rock. Connor stared at Ross, a protective feeling washing over him. His mother’s last great effort before she past away. Ross was a lot like her, sweet and way too trusting. He had just graduated high school, and had a definite shot at college, yet for some reason no offers were coming in the mail, and his scholarship application seemed to keep coming up missing.
Just like Connor’s before him.
He had ended up stuck, that dream gone, and had spent the last four years saving up. Nodding to himself Connor made up his mind.
“Whelp….looks like Ah’m jus gonna be taking ya inta town tomorrow. We’re goin’ upta the school and gitting it down. You said that college up in Oregon was really interested right? You liked it yes? Well there ya go.” Ross looked as if he was about to argue but Connor cut him off. “Look….Ah know you don’t believe it, but its true. Junior’s full of it, Russell is trying to make it seem like he didn’t fuck up, Beth act’s like there is nothing greater then this and Dad….is a tyrant straight outta the old testament.” Connor said. “Don’t let them give you that family speech either, real family love would want you to succeed. Ight?”
Ross smiled sadly.
“Things have gotten weird over the last few years.”
Connor nodded as he sat back down on the creeper.
“That it has.”
Pushing himself back under the truck Connor went about replacing the oil plug and putting the new filter on.
“I wonder why.” Ross mused as he leaned against the truck. Connor had to notice how Ross had gotten rid of his accent after that last field trip at school, something that drove the rest of the family nuts.
“Because Dad grew up in a mindset where family stayed where they were and listen to the eldest till they died.” Connor explained. “That man took orders from grandpa even after he got married. He’s got that religious nonsense soaked into his bones, he’s practically crazy. If yer old enough to sit at the table…yer old enough to work. That’s why Junior dropped out of school in the sixth grade. He really is a carbon copy of dad, Russell…he let himself get talked into it. But you and me? We’re like mom…we know there is more out there, and Ah don’t know about you, but Ah’m dead tired of being treated like a child, while bein’ expected ta work like an adult.”
Ross didn’t say anything, so Connor asked him to pour the large jug of oil into the truck while he watched for a lead. Ross obliged and Connor relaxed on the creeper. God he was tired….
“All of it?” Ross asked.
“Yep.” Connor answered. “And keep tomorrow’s business to yerself kay?”
“Okay.” Ross said quietly.
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Connor’s stomach growled and clenched painfully as he made his way up the front steps. It was nine-thirty, the sun was just starting to set, and he still had not had anything to eat. Fortunately he could smell food, and he sent a quick prayer to God that it was done.
Sighing pleasantly as he kicked his boots off Connor wandered into the kitchen. Whatever it was, it smelled good. Granted he was so hungry at this point that he would eat just about anything. Luckily, while he rarely got along with this older sister Beth, she could cook like nobodies business.
Well….not as good as mom though.
Of course he did not get three steps into the kitchen before Beth reminded him of just one of the reasons they did not get along.
“Git outta my kitchen!” Beth snapped. “It ain’t done yet. Git yer filthy ass outta here.”
Yup…there was one. She was a first class bitch most of the time.
“Oh stuff it Beth!” Connor countered. “It ain’t yer kitchen, and Ah can git myself something ta drink anytime Ah want to.”
Ignoring her glare Connor pushed past her. But when he reached for the fridge door handle Beth turned around and swatted him right where he had ripped open the back of his hand with her spatula.
“Didja not hear me the first time?” She spat. “It’ll be done in a few, now go wash up!”
Pissed off, tired, and hungry, Connor stomped out of the kitchen. He seriously had to get out of here.
“Jus’ wait until you need a fucking brake job big sister.” Connor muttered under his breath.
He seriously did not know how much more of all of this he could take until he snapped.
Surprisingly the shower was open, and he wasted no time in getting in and locking the door behind him. It was against the rules of course, to lock the bathroom door, or any door other then the front door really. But he didn’t care, he did not want to be bothered, and Junior thought it was funny to flush the toilet while you were in the shower.
Maybe a nice long soak would make him feel better.
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The hot shower helped sooth the aches in his body, though it did nothing for the ache in his belly, and now he was even sleepier. Well at least the day was almost over, he could hop out, get some clothes on, eat and then go to bed.
When he opened the door however he was met with his father’s scowling face.
“Why was this door locked?” The old man asked.
“Didn’t want anyone walkin’ in on me.” Connor replied, which was true. “Ah’m kinda naked ya know.”
“Yew know the rules. Yew doing sumthin’ dirty in there boy?” His father growled.
“Nope.” Connor chirped. Never mind that he was a grown man, and had never brought a woman into the house anyway. Course with his father, jerking off was a sin anyway.
Without another word Connor pushed past his father, intent on getting dressed. Now maybe it was because of how tired he was, or maybe it was the smell of homemade chicken, mashed potatoes, corn and rolls wafting up from downstairs that made him forget. But he really should have known what was about to happen.
Whap!
The palm of the old man’s hand cracked right across the back of Connor’s head, causing him to stumbled forward. The very real, raw rage from being struck was instantaneous.
“Don’tchu walk away from me when Ah’m talkin’ to yew boy.” His father snapped. “Ah’ve jus’ about had it up to here with yew.”
“I will not hit him, I will not hit him, I will not hit him…” Connor chanted in his mind.
Not yet anyway.
“Well Ah figured Ah wouldn’t stand there in nothing but a towel while Ah talk to my dad.” Connor said, trying to defuse the situation. “It’s indecent ya know.”
The old man shifted his weight a bit, rubbing at his hand.
“Ah’ll tell ya what’s indecent. Yew. Disrespecting yer sister, attacking yer brother, filling yer little brother’s head fulla all kinds of ideas. Ah dunno who yew think yew are….but yew’d better wake up.”
Connor couldn’t stop the light chuckle that spilled out of his mouth. So the punk HAD run to his daddy after all. Still….
“What do you mean ideas?” He asked. Granted he had a pretty good notion of what the old man was talking about, but he wanted to hear it himself.
‘Tryin’ ta git him ta leave home, go to some godless, fancy school when he’s needed here. What’s he gotta go all the way across the country fer? Huh? When he’s got a good job, a home, and his family right here.”
Yeah…that was about it.
“Needed here…” Connor spat as he yanked on a pair of pants, modesty be damned. “He ain’t no mechanic, and he damn sure ain’t suited for the fields. Naw…yer jus’ to cheap to hire an accountant, or a manager. He can do so much better then that, he could be a doctor, or a lawyer, or hell….maybe even president one day. An’ you wanna keep him here.”
“Keep him honest, faithful. A guiding hand in this sinful world.” The old man spat, pointing a finger in Connor’s face. “Ah know what’s in them schools. Jus’ an orgy of sin and vice it is. Drugs, girls gittin’ knocked up, fergittin’ their place in life, men…faggin around with each other. Every one of um lost God…well not my son, no sir.”
Of course…according to his father, his plot of land was THE last bastion of holiness in the world, save for their local church, and even then his father felt the local priest wasn’t “hard” enough.
“Well there isn’t much to worry about, what with his paperwork failing to come in the mail after what….four try’s?” Connor mused, practically daring the old man to confirm his suspicions.
“Don’t ferget yew work fer me.” His father stated, ignoring Connor’s challenge.
Yeah so? There was a threat there, but Connor didn’t see where his father thought it would get him.
“Ah don’t do it fer free.” He countered. He didn’t either. If the old man thought he was going to do ANYTHING for him without that check at the end of the week…well he was completely insane.
“Room and board.” The old man spat. Connor practically lost it right then. How much farther did the old bastard want to push him? Course he knew if he thumped the dried up geezer he would end up fighting him, Russell and Junior.
Taking a deep breath Connor pushed it away, he was too hungry to fight tonight.
“Well if that’s the case…Ah’d better git downstairs and get paid.” Connor said, rummaging around in his dresser for a shirt.
“Yer not welcome at the table tonight.” The old man said.
“As hard as Ah’ve worked today….” Connor growled.
“Disrespect tax.” His father said. “Besides…Russell done told me how yew’ve been slacking off.”
With that the old man turned and went back downstairs.
Blood pounding in his ears Connor gripped his dresser so had the wood groaned. Sucking in several deep breaths in through clenched teeth, Connor slowly eased himself onto his bed.
That was it.
If he had not been determined to leave before, he sure as hell was now. What was he? A child? Sent to bed without supper because he’d disobeyed or some shit?
Fuck that.
He was the best hand his father had, and everyone knew it, yet this was how he was repaid? His sweat was worth more then that.
His blood was worth more.
Connor was not sure how long he sat there, seething, but the next thing he knew Ross was sitting down next to him, rubbing at his shoulder.
“What is going on?” Ross whispered.
Without even thinking Connor told him, and by the time he finished, even sweet natured Ross looked to be about as angry as he was.
“You taking off tonight?” Ross whispered harshly.
“Have to man, Ah’m starving.” Connor replied.
“Think you could drop me off at Ray’s place?”
Connor nodded.
“Why shore thang little brother.” He drawled, earning a giggle and a punch in the shoulder from Ross.
“Ah’ll meetcha out thare then.” Ross said, letting his voice drop as he left the room.
As Connor finally pulled a shirt on he looked at the picture of his mother on the nightstand.
“Ah’ll make sure he git’s done right by mama…Ah promise.” Connor whispered as he grabbed his keys.
He made it as far as the coat rack by the door before Junior spoke up from the dinning room.
“Where yew goin’?”
“Out.” Connor replied.
“Ah didn’t say yew could go anywhere.” His father said seriously. Connor locked eyes with the old man.
“Ah didn’t ask.”
And out the door he went.
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As he sat in the cab of his truck Connor was mildly surprised no one rushed out to try and stop him, nor did he hear any yelling as Ross exited the house. Ross has something in his hands, but Connor didn’t ask about it as he fired up the large diesel engine, and took off down the driveway.
Once they were on the road Connor asked.
“Ah didn’t hear any hollering, how’d ya swing that?”
Ross snorted.
“Just said Ray’s dad wanted me to go over his books.”
“Did he?”
“Nah.”
Connor chuckled, and reached over to ruffle Ross’s hair.
“Why you little delinquent. Lying to yer pa.”
“Yeah well…I needed out of there.” Ross said softly.
“Need Ah ask why?”
“I can’t stand to listen to them bad-mouth…well…everything. I don’t dare say anything contrary, they’d just explode. And…well they were talking bad about you.” Ross reported.
“Really?” Connor muttered. Right at the table? Damn…things were getting rough.
“Yeah, telling me not to listen to you….other crap.” Ross muttered. “Man what is going on?”
“Ah think…Junior and Russell resent us. Ah mean we keep everything runnin’. Dad’s got all this messed up crap in his head, and Beth…well she fancy’s herself to be mom now, and she’ll do whatever dad says.” Connor theorized. “Hell…Dad’s got you basically running everything now. The accounts, taxes, all of it.”
“We’ll…be disowned if we leave.” Ross said sadly. Connor nodded as he kept his eyes on the road. The last thing they needed was some fool to pull on in front of him and get crunched by the massive semi.
“Yeah…yer right there. Course other then you, Ah don’t care about what any of um think.” Connor admitted. That brought a real smile to Ross’s face, and before too long Connor was pulling the big truck into Ross’s friend Ray’s driveway. “You are expected right?” Connor asked. He was not going to just leave Ross here if the kid wasn’t going to be welcomed.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Ross said.
Ross hopped out of the truck, and started to head towards the house, then for some reason he turned around and headed back to the truck.
Connor rolled down the drivers side window as Ross when around the front and climbed up the side.
“Don’tchu be gitting too drunk tonight Connor Murdoch. Ah don’t like how much you been drinkin’ lately.” Ross ordered sternly. Connor smiled.
“Ah’ll be good.”
“You’d better.” Ross said as he gave Connor a tight hug through the window. Before he hopped down Ross locked eyes with Connor. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.” Connor said. Ross nodded and made his way to the front door.
Connor waited until Ross went into the house, Ray’s mom gave him a wave, and Ray’s little brother stuck his head out of the door and gave the horn sign. Connor smiled and yanked it down, letting out a blast of sound before he turned around and headed back to the road.
Looking over he saw that Ross had left, whatever it was on the dashboard. It didn’t take him long to realize that it was a big plate of food wrapped in saran. It was still warm even.
“Bless your heart.” Connor said. The kid was a saint.
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Connor wasn’t quite sure where he wanted to go. He had pulled over to the side of the road to enjoy Ross’s gift, but now that he was finished…he wasn’t sure what to do. He was oddly awake, which was annoying, and he actually did not feel like drinking…but he also did not fancy hanging out in the cab of his truck until he got tired, and he sure as hell wasn’t going back to the home.
Home…it really wasn’t that anymore was it?
Shaking off the melancholy feeling that was nagging at him Connor slumped down over the steering wheel. He could go for some good music, but all the places around just played the same tired, old honky tonk crap. He was a southern boy through and though…but he hated country twang.
Staring out the window Connor could faintly make out lights a few miles up the road. Which was odd…he knew all the roads out here like the back of his hand, he drove them day in and day out, and there was nothing out here. Hmm…sounded like something worth checking out.
Hitting the ignition Connor pulled back onto the road, he sure hoped it was something interesting, he wasn’t in the mood to drive around all night…not with gas prices being what they were.”
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“Golly…” Connor muttered as he pulled the truck into a newly paved parking lot.
Glimmer, the large, colorful sign read. It certainly didn’t look like any other bar he had ever seen around here, all…colorful and modern. When did it get built?
Place seemed pretty packed, though his was the only big truck around. He felt a little out of place to be honest, not something he was used to, place looked like it had popped right out of…San Fran…or something.
But…he could not hear any caterwauling about trucks, dead dogs, or gone women so…why not check it out? What harm could it do really?
Hopping out of the truck Connor walked up to the door slowly, he felt a little…in awe. Something much have been special about the place for so many cars to be in the lot, at a place so far from town.
There was a bouncer at the door, a regular brick wall of a man. Looked to be about Six-eight, and was easily three hundred pounds of muscle. He watched Connor carefully as he approached.
Connor was more curious then worried, as big as the guy was, Connor had been the last man standing in more then a few Bunkhouse brawls in his lifetime.
“When’d this place git here?” Connor asked.
“About three weeks ago.” The bouncer answered. Hmm…must have gone up quick then, Connor came this way all the time and he never even saw any surveyors marks.
“What’s it got?” Connor asked.
“Food, music, bar…all that.” The bouncer replied, he was awfully chatty for a hired thug, but it was kinda interesting to meet one who didn’t just grunt.
“Not country is it?” Connor asked, that was important. The bouncer smiled, and Connor didn’t like the look of it at all.
“Not the owner’s taste.”
Well it sounded all fine and dandy to Connor, maybe he could relax for a bit.
“Any reason Ah can’t come in?” Connor asked as the guy made no attempt to let him pass.
“Don’t think its yer kinda place cowboy.” The bouncer answered, mocking Connor’s speech.
That soured his mood a bit. What…was everyone in the world out to fuck with him today?
“Ah’ll be the judge of that thank you kindly.” Connor retorted.
The bouncer mock half bowed and took at step to the side.
“Don’t start nothing, won’t be nothing cowboy.” The large man threatened.
Connor snorted and threw his shoulders back, not even bothering to acknowledge the prick as he pushed the door open. Now he was determined to enter, just to spite the guy.
Besides…what could it hurt?
Famous last words really.
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Micah scanned the crowd intently, he was being silly, anyone would do really. But…no one really looked like they needed someone.
He enjoyed that, picking out some downtrodden lovely and then giving them a night they would not soon forget. It had always been a habit of his, a harmless one as far as he was concerned.
Some people just needed a savior, if only for one night.
But everyone inside looked rather cozy, probably enjoying finally having a haven way out here. He sighed, nursing his half full glass in one hand.
Even without his little quirk no one was really catching his eye. He had had his fill of slim, bouncy little glitter boys back in New York. Though he didn’t fault this new batch for expressing themselves for once, they deserved it, trapped out in bigot country like they were.
“Hello…” Micah cooed under his breath. Someone new had just entered, and perhaps out of sheer coincidence the music had changed. Switching from a fast, popish track to a thumping, harder one.
It fit, Micah decided.
The newcomer was a big boy, six foot four easy. His hair was long, a nice rich brown, and he didn’t appear to be too overly large, but he had a set of shoulders on him.
He stood out in stark contrast to the crowd, dressed only in worn blue jeans and a t-shirt. His coat intrigued Micah however, it was a long, heavy duster. Neither the tradition brown nor black, but a crisp white instead. Fresh bleached perhaps..
“White…” He thought. “Innocence…mmm”
How delightful.
The new man had a sturdy look about him, both in his posture and his walk. Interesting…a farm boy perhaps? To that Micah had to wonder…did he realize what type of place he was in? And more importantly…how would he react to someone like Micah’s attentions.
He was different then the rest, something new. Just what Micah wanted.
Micah watched as the new white coated ranger headed up tot the bar, and was mildly amused by the bartenders reaction. He couldn’t quite fault the man, the ranger looked more like the type that most of the boy’s in here had come here to get away from.
The altercation was brief and the object of Micah’s attention walked away with a bottle.
“Cheap beer no doubt.” Micah mused. Poor boy, never known true taste he would bet.
The ranger took a seat at one of the tables in a corner of the building, only twenty five feet away from Micah. Perhaps hiding…perhaps unsure….
Through the flickering dance lights Micah was finally able to see a face.
Young…that was the first thought that entered his mind. Hansom…was the second.
The ranger had a smooth tanned face, with just a hint of stubble…had probably shaved recently. It was a face with potential…hardy and wild at the moment, but not yet weathered. With work it could be anything, from a grizzled bearded mountain man, to a face that sat on a billboard.
He watched as the ranger stretched out a bit, cracking his neck as he did.
He looked interesting, he looked tasty…
He looked…perfect.
“And we go…” Micah purred.
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The seat was comfortable, which was a plus, but the service has sucked so far. The bartender had given him a little bit of a hard time.
“Sure you ain’t lost cowboy?” He had been asked.
That pissed him off, and he was getting REALLY tired of being called a cowboy. Yes he could ride a horse…but that didn’t make him a fucking cowboy.
But in the end he had gotten a beer, he actually hated beer, and found a nice place to sit.
The music was…different, club music he supposed, something he had never heard. The people were also different, and he didn’t recognize anyone yet…and the way they were all dressed…well he had seen it in movies but never in person.
So it was kinda interesting after all.
He was also starting to realize what the hell the ass of a bouncer had been talking about. There were a few girls here and there, but from what he had seen so far, about ninety-eight percent of the people in here were men.
“Am I in a gay bar?” Connor thought. He had never actually met a gay person before. It was…different, interesting in a…kind of national geographic way.
And the way they danced….wow…practically boffing right on the dance floor.
Seemed like everyone was a bit leery of him though, which was probably for the best, he wasn’t sure what he would do if one of them came up to him and-
“Good evening.” A voice purred from his right. Connor turned his head, and there was a…guy. A very fancy looking guy.
His outfit was different then everyone else’s, yet still something Connor had never seen before. It sort of reminded him of a suit…yet it wasn’t. He was wearing a black coat-like thing, with white embroidery. Under that appeared to be a deep violet shirt of some kind, black pants below that, and even they looked fancy.
Connor turned his head away, didn’t want to give the wrong impression after all.
“Howdy.” He muttered, and then went silent. But the guy didn’t leave.
“I noticed you from afar.” The guy said. “You’re quite different from the rest.”
Kay….the guy was definitely not from around here. His accent was thick, something Connor couldn’t even begin to place…and who talked like that?
Good voice though, the guy could easily do voice work in movies or something. It was rich, deep and silky, yet…very authoritative. Almost a sexy James Earl Jones voice…though not quite that deep…close though.
Normally Connor wouldn’t pay attention to things like that, especially not with another guy but…he had never heard a voice like that.
“Uh…okay.” Connor said, not really sure what else he could say. It seemed to amuse the guy however.
“You look troubled.” The guy said. Wait…was he being hit on? No…that was just silly.
“Its that kind of a world.” Connor replied.
From his clothes the guy looked like he had money, and his voice had a high class edge to it. So even if it was a gay bar…and this guy was a…gay person, he wouldn’t be interested in a roughneck like Connor…
“That it is.” The guy murmured. “May I sit?”
Polite…but was it a loaded question? It was a table after all, but…crap what was he supposed to do?
Thinking about it Connor decided it couldn’t hurt. Besides…it took balls to just come up to a guy like him, it was respectable in a way.
And he felt like he was getting WAY to paranoid.
“It’s a free country.” He answered.
Smiling the man slid into a chair, resting his chin on the backs of his interlaced fingers a few moments later. Connor flicked his eyes towards his new table-mate, but quickly focused on a blank spot on the far wall.
But after a few minutes Connor found himself getting a little nervous, he wasn’t looking at the fancy boy, but he could feel the other’s stare on him. He wasn’t used to being stared at, yet each time he flicked his eyes towards his table-mate the other man just looked amused and contemplative. He was not really sure how to take it.
“Is looking upon me such a difficult undertaking?” The man suddenly asked. Connor had not been expecting it, but he still felt foolish as the man’s voice made him jump slightly.
“Huh?” Connor grunted, and the stranger chuckled.
“Why not turn and face me?” He was asked.
“Why should Ah?” Connor countered, feeling pensive and not really understanding why.
“Because my face is far more pleasant to gaze at then a spot on the wall I assure you.” He was told. “Or is having a conversation with me too intimidating?”
For a moment Connor actually felt like he was being rude, but pushed it away. What really got him was it almost sounded like the guy was suggesting he was afraid, which totally pricked his pride.
“Ah wasn’t aware that we were havin’ a conversation.” He replied. Something about what he said seemed to amuse the other man even more. The man laughed, and it danced across Connor’s skin like velvet, and it made him shiver.
What the hell was that?!
“My friend…I would not come to you and request permission to sit near you if I did not wish to converse with you.”
Normally Connor would have pointed out that they were not friends, but something about the other man’s manor stopped him. He had the feeling it was just something the guy said.
“Micah.” The man said, holding his hand out.
“What’s a Micah?” Connor retorted, deliberately trying to be a smartass.
“I am a Micah.” Micah replied humorously, holding his arms out in a -viola- gesture. “Feast upon my glory.”
Connor actually had to chuckle at that.
“And might I inquire what your name is my dear white ranger?”
White…wha? Well it was better then cowboy but…Connor really wasn’t sure what to say, this was not something he was used to.
“Connor.” He grunted, taking Micah’s offered hand.
“Connor.” Micah whispered as if testing his name out. Connor was surprised as he shook Micah’s hand, the guy’s grip was like steel! Not at all like Connor had heard guys…like him would be.
Micah laughed and Connor gave him an inquiring look, which Micah eloquently brushed off.
“So what brings you to this fine establishment dear Connor?” Micah asked. “I mean no disrespect, but you do not look like one of the normal clientele.”
His tone was so casual, Connor wasn’t really sure what the guy’s aim was. Of course…maybe he was just a friendly person?
“Ah wuz bored. Never seen this place before. Thought Ah’d check it out.” Connor drawled. Micah smiled faintly, an amused twinkle sparkling in his eyes. “What?” Connor asked, confused by the look.
“Ah wuz bored.” Micah mimicked.
“Makin’ fun of me?” Connor asked, but Micah shook his head.
“Not at all, I find it honest and pleasing. I am also sure that you have noticed that I speaking differently as well.”
Well that was unexpected, Connor turned in the cushioned seat, moving to face Micah. He was used to being made fun of for his speech by out of towners, and making them regret it. But this Micah…he was something different, so far at least, and that made Connor…curious.
“Well then…where you from?” Connor asked.
“Guess.” Micah replied playfully. Connor rolled his eyes, had to be somewhere in Europe…course his accent did remind Connor of an old movie.
“Transylvania.” Connor supplied. Micah’s eyes appeared to literally flash, and his face split into a wide grin, displaying a hint of pearly white teeth.
“Oooh, close actually.” Micah chuckled. “And you are a local I assume?”
Connor nodded, taking another swing of his drink…god he hated beer, but there wasn’t much else in bars around here…other then whiskey, and he really did NOT need that in him tonight.
“Yea.” Connor grunted, and a few seconds later he faintly heard Micah mimic him under his breath once more, still looking amused. “So what brings a fancy boy like you all the way the hell out here?” Connor asked.
“I am friends with the owner of this establishment, and I have never been to this part of America before.” Micah answered. “What do you think of it?”
Connor thought about that seriously for a second, maybe that was why the guy had come up to him, for ideas, or suggestions or…something.
“Ah’d git more security, put in some more fire exits, and be ready for one.” Micah looked puzzled, so Connor went on. “Think about where you are, the moment wind of this place hits town….Ah guarantee they’ll be a friggin meeting at the church before too long.”
Micah nodded.
“I will be sure to pass that along. But I must say…you do seem rather comfortable here. Odd I think…unless of course your look belies a secret.”
“Ain’t nobody botherin’ me.” Connor said with a shrug. To which Micah licked his lips.
“Exquisite, good to know you do not think of me as a pest. Not sure if my poor heart could take it.”
Connor laughed lightly, yup…he walked right into that one he did.
“Might I buy you a drink?” Micah asked, which jolted Connor.
“W-What?” Connor stammered. Micah smiled, did he ever stop? And rocked his head to the side.
“Your drink is empty, I am offering you another.”
“Well…Ah dunno…” Connor muttered. “Might give off the wrong impression…and Ah don’t really want another beer.” Micah laughed again, was everything funny to him? Once again it slipped inside of Connor, touching things inside him that he…didn’t even know were there. Making them tighten, making them tremble.
It freaked him out a bit.
“Dear Connor, I do not wish to startle you, but considering where we are, anyone who sees us will undoubtedly thinking one of us is attempting to gain entry into the other’s bed.” Micah purred. “And the drink I had in mind was far more….high class then a measly little beer. I am willing to bet it is something you have never tasted.”
Connor felt even more nervous then before, perhaps sensing a trap. Something was off about this Micah…something Connor couldn’t quite place…and this drink, he had heard of girls being drugged in clubs before.
“Are you?” Connor asked suspiciously.
“Non.” Micah stated. “I did just meet you after all, it would be rather….low of me now wouldn’t it?”
Connor gave him a sideways look.
“Then why did you come over here?” He asked.
“Because you are by far the most interesting looking man I have seen since I first arrived here…and you look like you could use a friend.”
Again…Connor really wasn’t sure how to take that. The compliment made him feel good, and to be honest…he didn’t really fancy sitting alone in the dark right now.
“So….” Micah rumbled, leaning in closer and resting his chin on one hand while the other lightly played across the table. Micah had longer nails then most men, and they were shiny, like he had just had a manicure recently. “How about that drink?”
He looked innocent and open but…
“Maybe he has.” Connor thought. “And just why would he want to trick you? You’re nobody.”
“Ah guess one couldn’t hurt.” Connor said. Micah sat up, looking pleased. He raised his hand and to Connor’s surprise someone came over a few moments later. Micah rattled off a detailed order, one Connor could barely understand, and then they were alone once more.
“Might I asked what would have a obviously hard working man like you out and about so late? You look rather tired.” Micah asked.
“You got that right.” Connor muttered as he wiped at his eyes. “Ah’m plum tuckered out…but…” He trailed off as his brain kicked in. Now he knew he was exhausted, he didn’t even know the guy yet he had been about to start yammering about his personal business.
He really needed to get out of here…right now and-
“Why not talk to me? I am unbiased, and anything you say could hardly come back to haunt you…after all we may very well never meet again.” Micah soothed. Again Connor was caught off guard, and felt foolish fro some reason.
Why was he being so paranoid? Not everyone in the world was bad. They guy was being friendly, hell…maybe he was writing a book about people around the country for all Connor knew.
Yet even as Connor thought that he still felt a nagging in the back of his mind. He pushed it away as a glass filled with clear liquid and ice was set in front of him. Connor eyed it suspiciously and Micah chuckled.
“It is not tainted in any way, I assure you.”
More assurances eh?
“Well if it is Ah’ll be cramming mah boot up yer ass.” Connor quipped. He picked it up and held it under his nose. It smelled….tropical. “Fittin’” Connor muttered.
“Indeed.” Micah added. Okay now that was getting weird…
With a shrug Connor downed it, his mother had always said to keep an open mind about new things after all. He waited for the burn, the vile taste that would make him cough and gag…but it never came. It went down smooth, tasted rather…well like it smelled, tropical.
However Micah’s reaction was something to behold. The dark haired man was about two steps away from laughing his ass off.
“Whut?” Connor asked indignantly.
Struggling to regain control over himself Micah wiped a tear from his eye before he answered.
“It is not a shot my friend. You are supposed to drink it in sips.”
Oh…well…how was he supposed to know the fruity drink etiquette?
“Why?” Connor asked. “Gittin’ drunk is gittin’ drunk.”
Micah shook his head, clearly trying to keep from laughing once more.
“Enjoyment is the purpose, not intoxication. Take it in slowly, roll the taste in your mouth. A simple pleasure really.”
Wow…there sure were some differences between them then.
“A simple pleasure?” Connor muttered. He was a bit confused. Sure it tasted good, but it didn’t FEEL good.
“There are many simple pleasures in life.” Micah said. “Fine cuisine is a simple pleasure, tea is a simple pleasure…” Micah leaned forward once more. “Conversation is a simple pleasure.”
Connor could totally see that he was being pressed a bit, but when he opened his mouth to say something another drink was set in front of him. Connor flicked his eyes to it, then to the retreating waiter, then back to Micah.
“A second chance so to speak.” Micah said. “This time…savor it.”
Connor giggled in spite of himself. This was all so bizarre, certainly not something he had thought he would be experiencing when he woke up this morning.
“Ya know…mah dad would freak if he knew Ah was here, let alone doin’ this.” Connor admitted. Micah cocked his head to the side.
“Does that mean you will be leaving?” He asked. Connor snorted.
“Hell naw…Ah love pissin’ him off.”
Connor picked up the drink. What could it hurt? He didn’t plan on getting real drunk…and besides….from the taste it was a sissy drink anyway….
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX< br>
Micah smiled as Connor continued to drawl on. He was enjoying the young man’s company more then he would have guess he would. He found himself oddly fascinated by Connor’s colorful stories. Which were really about nothing but common days activities…but the way Connor told them was interesting.
He was rather amused as Connor finished off yet another drink, it was amusing because Connor had seemed to think that the gentler flavor meant that it was light on the overall alcohol content.
He was wrong.
Connor didn’t seem to realize how tipsy he had become. Of course Micah had given him a little push now and again, which had not been easy in the slightest.
The boy was a challenge, and that excited Micah.
He was also a very boisterous, chatty drunk, and Micah found himself enthralled by that drawling, honest voice. It was odd, but for the first time in a very long time…he was enjoying himself.
It had taken a little work, but soon Connor had opened up. Speaking of his childhood, his mother’s death, the dream of college that had been dashed, the trouble with his older siblings, with his father. Connor spoke of his desire to help his youngest brother, and his desperation to leave himself.
Micah shared it all with him, the good, the bad, the painful, it had all spilled into Micah. Connor talked about how he wanted so much more out of life, he wanted to escape, he wanted to be free.
“So…” Connor muttered. “What’d yew do? Ah don’t buy that yer out here jus’ cause of yer friend.”
He was intelligent and perceptive as well.
“I am a businessman.” Micah reported, oddly pleased that Connor was inquiring about him.
“Wait, wait….lemme guess, lemme guess.” Connor insisted giggly. “An art dealer?”
Micah smiled as Connor laughed at his own words. It was rather cute, Connor’s assumptions about him.
“I do…sponsor the arts yes.” Micah admitted. “But I have my hands in various dealings. Shipping, real estate, among other enterprises.”
“Mm…sounds like yew a rich man.” Connor muttered. Micah tilted his head and raised his hands in a slight bow.
“Thinkin’ of startin’ sumthin’ here?” Connor half asked, half stated.
“It had crossed my mind.” Micah admitted. “There is much I could bring your town.”
Connor scoffed, puzzling Micah.
“Ah wouldn’t do that if Ah were you.” Connor said flat out.
“Oh? And why do you say that?” Micah asked.
“Well…you wouldn’t be welcome, that’s fer sure.” Connor replied, munching on the bowl of chips that he had ordered.
“Really?” Micah mused. “Not partial to outsiders here?” Connor nodded.
“Yea…you could say that. Lemme put it to you this way….about four years ago one of those big store chains tried to open around here. An’ in three months their windows got all smashed in, trucks tires were slashed all the time, shoppin’ carts stolen or wreaked…an’ they even got fire bombed a time or two.” Connor reported.
As far as the world had come….some things never really did change did they?
“Did the authorities not intervene?” Micah asked.
“Oh shore, shore…” Connor replied, nodding his head. “They were -baffled-” Connor made quotation signs in the air. Micah just shook his head.
“Rather stereotypical wouldn’t you say?” Connor just shrugged.
“Small town, very defensive Ah guess. Don’t much concern me anymore….Ah jus’ want out.” Connor said. “You’d betta take care though….you ain’t a yank, hell you’d be worse. All…foreign and stuff.”
“Yes well…in my defense I did not have much of a say in the matter of my birth.” Micah said with a laugh. He had yet to actually venture into the town, and while he was not overly concerned…he would keep Connor’s words in mind if he happened to visit it. “Hmm…it occurs to me….I may be able to help you in your quest to leave this place.”
Connor cocked his head to the side.
“Huh?”
It was cute, each time Connor seemed to get stuck. Though Micah had to wonder if he was simply becoming confused over and over, or had a hearing problem.
Micah locked eyes with Connor, who blushed faintly and looked away. That was cute as well, but Micah was serious, he could easily find a job for the boy. Micah reached out and ran his fingers lightly along the back of Connor’s hand.
“I said, I believe I can assist you in your escape of this place.” Micah whispered. “But perhaps we should save those details for another time.”
Connor’s blush had grown deeper, and he still would not meet Micah’s eyes. His hand twitched under Micah’s fingers, and Micah pressed into it a bit more firmly. He had been sneaking in light little touches along Connor’s hands, arms, and legs the entire time. He wanted to try and gauge who the young man might react to his…attentions.
Perhaps it was a good time to proceed….but Micah found himself uncharacteristically hesitant. The worst that could would be Connor rejecting him and leaving, but really….it was nothing to be pensive about. Granted there was always a chance the farm boy could become violent, but Micah could more then handle himself if it came to that.
Not that he thought that it would happen, Connor seemed to be rather sweet natured.
“You do not seem to share the same qualities that you attribute to your neighbors.” Micah said.
“Uh…well….Ah’m not an asshole, and Ah try to keep an open mind about new things, and new people. After all…takes all kinds of people to make the world.”
Micah resisted another smile, he did not want to give anything away.
“Well….I am very glad to hear that.” Micah reported as he took Connor’s hand in between both of his own. “Then perhaps you might be willing to give me the honor of a dance?”
Connor blinked, and then looked at his hand.
“Uh…wait…w-what?” Connor fumbled. For the first time in a very long time Micah found himself actually caring, he truly did not want things to go sour. Slowly he drew Connor’s hand up, and laid a gentle kiss upon it.
“A dance. Dance with me my dear Connor.”
The poor boy’s mouth kept opening, but no sound was coming out, other then flustered grunts that was.
‘B-but….uh…yer…a man.” Connor said, apparently having forgotten about the nature of the place he was now in.
“Mmhmmm.” Micah purred. “It would be just all wrong otherwise.”
“Um….Ah….” Connor mumbled as he looked around, perhaps looking for an out. “Ah dun think….um…w-well….”
“It is something new.” Micah said, using Connor’s statement against him.
“Well…uh….yea…” Connor muttered. “Ah don’t…Ah don’t know…know how to dance.”
Nice try.
“I will be more then happy to teach you.” Micah stated. He was not outright refusing, which was good.
“Um…Ah’m not…r-really sure…” Connor began, but Micah gently bit down on the tip of Connor’s index finger and quickly sucked it into his mouth. Connor’s eyes went wide as Micah gave it a little tug, swirling his tongue around it before releasing it with a wet pop.
“Please..” Micah whispered smoothly. “I would really enjoy it. I think you would as well. It is just a dance, nothing to be afraid of.”
The look of uncertainty on Connor’s face was adorable. Suddenly Connor took a deep breath and locked eyes with Micah.
“Look….Ah don’t want anything in mah butt.” He stated earnestly.
For the second time tonight Micah lost his composure. He had to release Connor’s hand to cover his own mouth as laughter exploded out of him.
It took some work but Micah was able to stifle himself, and gave Connor’s hand a reassuring pat.
“I….oh goodness….ah-ha….I swear on my mothers name that I have no intention of trying to put anything in your butt.” Micah vowed.
God that was priceless, absolutely priceless. Clearly the young man was more affected by the drinks he had consumed then he appeared.
“Come now.” Micah whispered as he shrugged off his coat. “Dance with me.” He could not stop himself, he had to have this, so he pushed…just a little.
Connor blinked.
“Um….”
“Just think of how your father would react if he knew.” Micah chuckled, using the second weapon Connor had given him. Connor gave him a lopsided grin that actually made Micah’s heart flutter slightly.
“That it would….that it would….” Connor giggled, which didn’t match up to what Micah had said, but it worked. “Oh…Awright.”
Connor stood up, taking off his long coat and laying it off the table he locked eyes with Micah.
“Mah coat had better be okay though…”
“It will. I promise.” Micah said as he took Connor by the arm and led him towards the dance floor. He wasn’t going to give the young man time to re-think his decision.
Once they reached the floor itself however Connor hesitated, stopping right as Micah stepped up onto it. But Micah did not allow him to remain there, he literally pulled Connor up with him, a move that obviously surprised Connor and caused him to stumble into Micah as his feet hit the elevated platform. Micah rumbled internally at the feel of Connor’s solid body against his own. Oh yes…he was going to enjoy this.
“Yer stronger then you look….” Connor muttered.
“I work out.” Micah giggled.
Connor looked very nervous, his eyes were darting around to everyone else on the floor, who admittedly were staring at the poor boy. Micah only smiled.
“Ah dunno what to do.” Connor admitted.
“Just relax….and let me move you.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Connor didn’t know how he had been talked into this, or what the hell he was doing up there. Micah was leading….but he kept stumbling. He felt like a fool….
He felt all woozy in the head too…
Micah was smiling in that odd way again and was practically writhing on top of Connor, it was very strange….and didn’t match the gentlemanly picture of the man that Connor had formed in his in during the short time they had known each other.
But the way Micah moved…good Lord….it was like he was liquid steel, fluid and strong, over here, over there.
People were still staring, but the actually looked…jealous. Personally all Connor wanted at that moment was for Micah to stop having him turn around and all that other movement. He felt so light in the head already…he didn’t want to get sick.
Suddenly Micah turned, pulling Connor’s arms around him as he molded them back to front. Unfortunately they were only about two inches apart in height, which caused Micah’s butt to be pressed RIGHT into Connor’s groin.
“M-Micah…” Connor gasped. Micah twisted his head and gave Connor an evil, saucy look.
Then he was moving again, rubbing against Connor in a way that a man really shouldn’t. They were pressed so tight against each other that Connor could feel Micah’s back muscles clearly against his chest, which once again reminded him of liquid. For being so dainty looking…Micah was rather strong.
Connor tried to focus on that, instead of the extremely firm booty that was gyrating against him. It wasn’t obscene…yet, but it was a bit much…and it was having an effect.
Groaning Connor tried to pull away, only to have Micah grab both sides of his jeans at the legs and yank him back in. Then Micah’s hands slid up, his fingers slipping into Connor’s hair, teasing his scalp.
Connor wrapped his arms around Micah’s chest, just trying to hang on. He didn’t know what to do, and he really did not want to give away that he was currently hard as a rock.
He also didn’t want to fall down.
Suddenly Micah broke away, spinning on his heels until he was looking at Connor across the space he had just created. Micah looked…posed then. His body was tilted, one hip jutting to the side, his hands cocked, his hair falling about him like a cape as it glittered under the light.
It looked purposeful…and sexy as hell.
Micah slowly licked his lips and began to stalk towards Connor. It reminded Connor of a time when he was a little boy, his mother had taken him to the zoo. Once there he had ended up in front of the tiger cage, staring a real live tiger right in the eyes, not bred in captivity either, it had been freshly captured in the wild. He clearly remembered the way the massive cat had stared at him, the way it had moved as it stalked back and forth in its new prison, and Micah had that exact same look in his eyes.
He felt like prey then…and he felt like prey now.
Difference was that this time…he had no steel bars to protect him.
They both had that same look, Micah and the tiger, the same flowing steel under their skin.
It frightened Connor in a primal way that he could barely understand, just what kind of person could look and move like that?
Connor put his hand out just as Micah reached him, maybe to try and keep him at bay, he wasn’t sure. But Micah slipped right past him before he could even blink, and appeared behind him, pressing tight against his back.
The only noise Connor could manage to force out was a high pitched little squeak that was SO not manly.
Then they were moving again, and Micah’s hands were roaming everywhere. Touching Connor’s jaw, his throat, his chest, his stomach, the insides of his thighs. All were manipulated with an expertise that Connor’s addled brain could not even begin to comprehend.
Thankfully other then a few light brushes Micah did not touch the part of Connor that was beginning to demand attention. Connor wasn’t sure if he was grateful of that, or just frustrated.
He didn’t have much time to focus on it however, because…he was moving.
Or more specifically Micah was MAKING him move, and in a way that Connor never knew he COULD move. He was dipping, twisting, snapping back up, sliding up, gliding down. Parts of him were shaking in ways he didn’t even know how they were doing so.
He was…dancing.
Then Connor felt Micah’s hot, wet tongue glide up his sensitive neck and he gasped, his whole body trembling.
“M-Micah!”
The next thing he knew Micah’s panting mouth was right next to his ear.
“You truly are special Connor,” came Micah’s heated whisper.
“Th-Thanks” Connor gasped as Micah laid a wet kiss on the side of neck. Micah’s fingers slipped back into Connor’s hair, pulling it tight as he pulled Connor’s head to the side.
“I want to show you something….” Micah purred into Connor’s ear, his voice thick and hungry.
Connor did not get a chance to ask what that was because Micah’s head suddenly dipped down, his open mouth pressing into Connor’s neck.
A split second later Connor felt something sharp stab into his flesh.
It HURT.
But the pain, and Connor’s attempted shout where both quickly engulfed by a tidal wave of pleasure that exploded inside of him. He didn’t know where it came from, and his brain had suddenly bowed out completely.
Connor squirmed in Micah’s embrace, which had become tighter then he had ever been held. He was faintly aware of a strong pull against his skin, but he could barley think at all anymore.
Something was overwhelming all of his senses and he felt himself peak…and let go, without a single touch.
A delighted squeal from Micah reached his ears as little whites spots began to dance in front of his eyes…
Soon everything went white and….and….and he….
Connor growled to himself as he fought to get the oil filter off of the truck. Who the hell put these things on so tight? And why did the manufacturers make it so damn hard to get to them? He hated this... if he wasn't working on cars, or trucks, or vans or whatever; he was driving a truck all over the fucking place. That or working on the small farm his father owned.
He had just turned twenty-one, and was already on his way to becoming an alcoholic from all the stress and the bullshit.
"This would be so much easier if Ah had the right tool." Connor grumbled. But noooo his dumb ass brother Russell had to go and lose it. Twisting as hard as he could the filter finally gave way, of course right after it did, he slammed his hand into something sharp, ripping it open. Blood and oil ran down his arm as he turned the filter upside down and set it on the oil catch. He ignored the pain, it had only been a matter of time before he got hurt anyway. The car gods demanded a sacrifice after all.
Signing Connor pushed himself out from under the truck. He was hungry, he was thirsty, and he had to piss. But before he could even get up off of the ground Russell's big head appeared around the corner.
"Yew dun yet?" Russell snapped. His tone just pissed Connor off.
"No Ah'm not done yet!" He snarled. "Ah jus' got the damn thing off! It's gotta drain!"
"Well, what took ya so long!?" Russell spat. "Don'tcha know we've a lotta work today!"
"A'yuh, no shit." Conner growled. "That’s nuthin new. But maybe, jus' maybe, if you hadn't lost the damn wrench. Ah wouldn't have ta yank it off by hand." Russell rolled his eyes.
"Ah didn't lose it."
"Well where the hell is it then?" Conner questioned. "Cus it ain't where its supposed ta be!"
"Yer jus' too lazy." Russell scoffed. "Always trying ta find ways to git outta work."
Connor’s temper spiked, he had not eaten breakfast, had not even had a snack, and he had been dragged out of bed after a long night to do this job. Now the jackass was giving him shit?
Standing up Connor picked up a wrench.
“Russell….if you don’t git out of here, and shut up on topa that. Ah swear to God this wrench is going right in yer damn face!” Connor threatened. Russell’s face became a deeper shade of red, and he spat on the ground.
“Now listen her yew little-”
THANG!
Russell’s words were halted when the heavy wrench smashed into the concrete wall only inches from his face. Without a word Connor picked up another wrench.
“GIT!” He hollered. “Or the next one don’t miss!”
Russell’s jaw snapped shut, and he became even redder, something Connor wouldn’t have thought possible. They locked eyes with each other and after a few tense moments Russell left.
“Good riddance.” Connor growled. He was so sick of Russell and Junior’s bullshit. It was bad enough that he was twenty-one and still living in his Father’s house, mostly because his Father practically refused to left him leave, but now it was like his older siblings had drank a few dozen gallon’s of asshole. Junior had always been that way, but Russell had been decent at one time.
Now the punk felt like he had to act like he had made the right decision when he had passed on a college scholarship. Well Connor could leave….and if he had his way he would be soon. He wanted more out of his life then just turning wrenches.
Connor heard footsteps approaching and he tensed, getting ready for another shouting match. But to his pleasant surprise it was only his baby brother Ross.
With a smile Ross handed him a tall glass of lemonade.
“Figured you would need it.” Ross said softly.
“Well God bless ya.” Connor chuckled. Connor downed the glass in three big gulps, it was just what he needed.
“So why did I just see Russell come charging out of here like a pissed off rhino?” Ross asked. “And your bleeding you know.”
Connor glanced at his hand.
“Yea…Ah know.” Connor muttered. “And cuz Ah whipped a wrench at his big dumb head.”
Ross winced
“You know he’s gonna go tell dad.”
Connor shook his head, setting the now oil and blood stained glass on the workbench. A thirty-eight year old man running to tell daddy, it was pitiful, funny, but pitiful.
“Ah know…jus don’t care anymore.” Connor replied. Out of everyone he had had it with his Father the most, the overbearing old bastard was more then on his last nerve. “You git yer stuff in the mail yet?” Connor asked.
Ross shook his head.
“Beth said nothing came.”
Connor let out an exasperated sigh.
“Fer Gods sake Ross, don’t believe her. She’s just like the rest, if you count on them yer never going to get accepted.”
Ross just looked at the floor, lightly kicking at a rock. Connor stared at Ross, a protective feeling washing over him. His mother’s last great effort before she past away. Ross was a lot like her, sweet and way too trusting. He had just graduated high school, and had a definite shot at college, yet for some reason no offers were coming in the mail, and his scholarship application seemed to keep coming up missing.
Just like Connor’s before him.
He had ended up stuck, that dream gone, and had spent the last four years saving up. Nodding to himself Connor made up his mind.
“Whelp….looks like Ah’m jus gonna be taking ya inta town tomorrow. We’re goin’ upta the school and gitting it down. You said that college up in Oregon was really interested right? You liked it yes? Well there ya go.” Ross looked as if he was about to argue but Connor cut him off. “Look….Ah know you don’t believe it, but its true. Junior’s full of it, Russell is trying to make it seem like he didn’t fuck up, Beth act’s like there is nothing greater then this and Dad….is a tyrant straight outta the old testament.” Connor said. “Don’t let them give you that family speech either, real family love would want you to succeed. Ight?”
Ross smiled sadly.
“Things have gotten weird over the last few years.”
Connor nodded as he sat back down on the creeper.
“That it has.”
Pushing himself back under the truck Connor went about replacing the oil plug and putting the new filter on.
“I wonder why.” Ross mused as he leaned against the truck. Connor had to notice how Ross had gotten rid of his accent after that last field trip at school, something that drove the rest of the family nuts.
“Because Dad grew up in a mindset where family stayed where they were and listen to the eldest till they died.” Connor explained. “That man took orders from grandpa even after he got married. He’s got that religious nonsense soaked into his bones, he’s practically crazy. If yer old enough to sit at the table…yer old enough to work. That’s why Junior dropped out of school in the sixth grade. He really is a carbon copy of dad, Russell…he let himself get talked into it. But you and me? We’re like mom…we know there is more out there, and Ah don’t know about you, but Ah’m dead tired of being treated like a child, while bein’ expected ta work like an adult.”
Ross didn’t say anything, so Connor asked him to pour the large jug of oil into the truck while he watched for a lead. Ross obliged and Connor relaxed on the creeper. God he was tired….
“All of it?” Ross asked.
“Yep.” Connor answered. “And keep tomorrow’s business to yerself kay?”
“Okay.” Ross said quietly.
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Connor’s stomach growled and clenched painfully as he made his way up the front steps. It was nine-thirty, the sun was just starting to set, and he still had not had anything to eat. Fortunately he could smell food, and he sent a quick prayer to God that it was done.
Sighing pleasantly as he kicked his boots off Connor wandered into the kitchen. Whatever it was, it smelled good. Granted he was so hungry at this point that he would eat just about anything. Luckily, while he rarely got along with this older sister Beth, she could cook like nobodies business.
Well….not as good as mom though.
Of course he did not get three steps into the kitchen before Beth reminded him of just one of the reasons they did not get along.
“Git outta my kitchen!” Beth snapped. “It ain’t done yet. Git yer filthy ass outta here.”
Yup…there was one. She was a first class bitch most of the time.
“Oh stuff it Beth!” Connor countered. “It ain’t yer kitchen, and Ah can git myself something ta drink anytime Ah want to.”
Ignoring her glare Connor pushed past her. But when he reached for the fridge door handle Beth turned around and swatted him right where he had ripped open the back of his hand with her spatula.
“Didja not hear me the first time?” She spat. “It’ll be done in a few, now go wash up!”
Pissed off, tired, and hungry, Connor stomped out of the kitchen. He seriously had to get out of here.
“Jus’ wait until you need a fucking brake job big sister.” Connor muttered under his breath.
He seriously did not know how much more of all of this he could take until he snapped.
Surprisingly the shower was open, and he wasted no time in getting in and locking the door behind him. It was against the rules of course, to lock the bathroom door, or any door other then the front door really. But he didn’t care, he did not want to be bothered, and Junior thought it was funny to flush the toilet while you were in the shower.
Maybe a nice long soak would make him feel better.
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The hot shower helped sooth the aches in his body, though it did nothing for the ache in his belly, and now he was even sleepier. Well at least the day was almost over, he could hop out, get some clothes on, eat and then go to bed.
When he opened the door however he was met with his father’s scowling face.
“Why was this door locked?” The old man asked.
“Didn’t want anyone walkin’ in on me.” Connor replied, which was true. “Ah’m kinda naked ya know.”
“Yew know the rules. Yew doing sumthin’ dirty in there boy?” His father growled.
“Nope.” Connor chirped. Never mind that he was a grown man, and had never brought a woman into the house anyway. Course with his father, jerking off was a sin anyway.
Without another word Connor pushed past his father, intent on getting dressed. Now maybe it was because of how tired he was, or maybe it was the smell of homemade chicken, mashed potatoes, corn and rolls wafting up from downstairs that made him forget. But he really should have known what was about to happen.
Whap!
The palm of the old man’s hand cracked right across the back of Connor’s head, causing him to stumbled forward. The very real, raw rage from being struck was instantaneous.
“Don’tchu walk away from me when Ah’m talkin’ to yew boy.” His father snapped. “Ah’ve jus’ about had it up to here with yew.”
“I will not hit him, I will not hit him, I will not hit him…” Connor chanted in his mind.
Not yet anyway.
“Well Ah figured Ah wouldn’t stand there in nothing but a towel while Ah talk to my dad.” Connor said, trying to defuse the situation. “It’s indecent ya know.”
The old man shifted his weight a bit, rubbing at his hand.
“Ah’ll tell ya what’s indecent. Yew. Disrespecting yer sister, attacking yer brother, filling yer little brother’s head fulla all kinds of ideas. Ah dunno who yew think yew are….but yew’d better wake up.”
Connor couldn’t stop the light chuckle that spilled out of his mouth. So the punk HAD run to his daddy after all. Still….
“What do you mean ideas?” He asked. Granted he had a pretty good notion of what the old man was talking about, but he wanted to hear it himself.
‘Tryin’ ta git him ta leave home, go to some godless, fancy school when he’s needed here. What’s he gotta go all the way across the country fer? Huh? When he’s got a good job, a home, and his family right here.”
Yeah…that was about it.
“Needed here…” Connor spat as he yanked on a pair of pants, modesty be damned. “He ain’t no mechanic, and he damn sure ain’t suited for the fields. Naw…yer jus’ to cheap to hire an accountant, or a manager. He can do so much better then that, he could be a doctor, or a lawyer, or hell….maybe even president one day. An’ you wanna keep him here.”
“Keep him honest, faithful. A guiding hand in this sinful world.” The old man spat, pointing a finger in Connor’s face. “Ah know what’s in them schools. Jus’ an orgy of sin and vice it is. Drugs, girls gittin’ knocked up, fergittin’ their place in life, men…faggin around with each other. Every one of um lost God…well not my son, no sir.”
Of course…according to his father, his plot of land was THE last bastion of holiness in the world, save for their local church, and even then his father felt the local priest wasn’t “hard” enough.
“Well there isn’t much to worry about, what with his paperwork failing to come in the mail after what….four try’s?” Connor mused, practically daring the old man to confirm his suspicions.
“Don’t ferget yew work fer me.” His father stated, ignoring Connor’s challenge.
Yeah so? There was a threat there, but Connor didn’t see where his father thought it would get him.
“Ah don’t do it fer free.” He countered. He didn’t either. If the old man thought he was going to do ANYTHING for him without that check at the end of the week…well he was completely insane.
“Room and board.” The old man spat. Connor practically lost it right then. How much farther did the old bastard want to push him? Course he knew if he thumped the dried up geezer he would end up fighting him, Russell and Junior.
Taking a deep breath Connor pushed it away, he was too hungry to fight tonight.
“Well if that’s the case…Ah’d better git downstairs and get paid.” Connor said, rummaging around in his dresser for a shirt.
“Yer not welcome at the table tonight.” The old man said.
“As hard as Ah’ve worked today….” Connor growled.
“Disrespect tax.” His father said. “Besides…Russell done told me how yew’ve been slacking off.”
With that the old man turned and went back downstairs.
Blood pounding in his ears Connor gripped his dresser so had the wood groaned. Sucking in several deep breaths in through clenched teeth, Connor slowly eased himself onto his bed.
That was it.
If he had not been determined to leave before, he sure as hell was now. What was he? A child? Sent to bed without supper because he’d disobeyed or some shit?
Fuck that.
He was the best hand his father had, and everyone knew it, yet this was how he was repaid? His sweat was worth more then that.
His blood was worth more.
Connor was not sure how long he sat there, seething, but the next thing he knew Ross was sitting down next to him, rubbing at his shoulder.
“What is going on?” Ross whispered.
Without even thinking Connor told him, and by the time he finished, even sweet natured Ross looked to be about as angry as he was.
“You taking off tonight?” Ross whispered harshly.
“Have to man, Ah’m starving.” Connor replied.
“Think you could drop me off at Ray’s place?”
Connor nodded.
“Why shore thang little brother.” He drawled, earning a giggle and a punch in the shoulder from Ross.
“Ah’ll meetcha out thare then.” Ross said, letting his voice drop as he left the room.
As Connor finally pulled a shirt on he looked at the picture of his mother on the nightstand.
“Ah’ll make sure he git’s done right by mama…Ah promise.” Connor whispered as he grabbed his keys.
He made it as far as the coat rack by the door before Junior spoke up from the dinning room.
“Where yew goin’?”
“Out.” Connor replied.
“Ah didn’t say yew could go anywhere.” His father said seriously. Connor locked eyes with the old man.
“Ah didn’t ask.”
And out the door he went.
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As he sat in the cab of his truck Connor was mildly surprised no one rushed out to try and stop him, nor did he hear any yelling as Ross exited the house. Ross has something in his hands, but Connor didn’t ask about it as he fired up the large diesel engine, and took off down the driveway.
Once they were on the road Connor asked.
“Ah didn’t hear any hollering, how’d ya swing that?”
Ross snorted.
“Just said Ray’s dad wanted me to go over his books.”
“Did he?”
“Nah.”
Connor chuckled, and reached over to ruffle Ross’s hair.
“Why you little delinquent. Lying to yer pa.”
“Yeah well…I needed out of there.” Ross said softly.
“Need Ah ask why?”
“I can’t stand to listen to them bad-mouth…well…everything. I don’t dare say anything contrary, they’d just explode. And…well they were talking bad about you.” Ross reported.
“Really?” Connor muttered. Right at the table? Damn…things were getting rough.
“Yeah, telling me not to listen to you….other crap.” Ross muttered. “Man what is going on?”
“Ah think…Junior and Russell resent us. Ah mean we keep everything runnin’. Dad’s got all this messed up crap in his head, and Beth…well she fancy’s herself to be mom now, and she’ll do whatever dad says.” Connor theorized. “Hell…Dad’s got you basically running everything now. The accounts, taxes, all of it.”
“We’ll…be disowned if we leave.” Ross said sadly. Connor nodded as he kept his eyes on the road. The last thing they needed was some fool to pull on in front of him and get crunched by the massive semi.
“Yeah…yer right there. Course other then you, Ah don’t care about what any of um think.” Connor admitted. That brought a real smile to Ross’s face, and before too long Connor was pulling the big truck into Ross’s friend Ray’s driveway. “You are expected right?” Connor asked. He was not going to just leave Ross here if the kid wasn’t going to be welcomed.
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Ross said.
Ross hopped out of the truck, and started to head towards the house, then for some reason he turned around and headed back to the truck.
Connor rolled down the drivers side window as Ross when around the front and climbed up the side.
“Don’tchu be gitting too drunk tonight Connor Murdoch. Ah don’t like how much you been drinkin’ lately.” Ross ordered sternly. Connor smiled.
“Ah’ll be good.”
“You’d better.” Ross said as he gave Connor a tight hug through the window. Before he hopped down Ross locked eyes with Connor. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.” Connor said. Ross nodded and made his way to the front door.
Connor waited until Ross went into the house, Ray’s mom gave him a wave, and Ray’s little brother stuck his head out of the door and gave the horn sign. Connor smiled and yanked it down, letting out a blast of sound before he turned around and headed back to the road.
Looking over he saw that Ross had left, whatever it was on the dashboard. It didn’t take him long to realize that it was a big plate of food wrapped in saran. It was still warm even.
“Bless your heart.” Connor said. The kid was a saint.
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Connor wasn’t quite sure where he wanted to go. He had pulled over to the side of the road to enjoy Ross’s gift, but now that he was finished…he wasn’t sure what to do. He was oddly awake, which was annoying, and he actually did not feel like drinking…but he also did not fancy hanging out in the cab of his truck until he got tired, and he sure as hell wasn’t going back to the home.
Home…it really wasn’t that anymore was it?
Shaking off the melancholy feeling that was nagging at him Connor slumped down over the steering wheel. He could go for some good music, but all the places around just played the same tired, old honky tonk crap. He was a southern boy through and though…but he hated country twang.
Staring out the window Connor could faintly make out lights a few miles up the road. Which was odd…he knew all the roads out here like the back of his hand, he drove them day in and day out, and there was nothing out here. Hmm…sounded like something worth checking out.
Hitting the ignition Connor pulled back onto the road, he sure hoped it was something interesting, he wasn’t in the mood to drive around all night…not with gas prices being what they were.”
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“Golly…” Connor muttered as he pulled the truck into a newly paved parking lot.
Glimmer, the large, colorful sign read. It certainly didn’t look like any other bar he had ever seen around here, all…colorful and modern. When did it get built?
Place seemed pretty packed, though his was the only big truck around. He felt a little out of place to be honest, not something he was used to, place looked like it had popped right out of…San Fran…or something.
But…he could not hear any caterwauling about trucks, dead dogs, or gone women so…why not check it out? What harm could it do really?
Hopping out of the truck Connor walked up to the door slowly, he felt a little…in awe. Something much have been special about the place for so many cars to be in the lot, at a place so far from town.
There was a bouncer at the door, a regular brick wall of a man. Looked to be about Six-eight, and was easily three hundred pounds of muscle. He watched Connor carefully as he approached.
Connor was more curious then worried, as big as the guy was, Connor had been the last man standing in more then a few Bunkhouse brawls in his lifetime.
“When’d this place git here?” Connor asked.
“About three weeks ago.” The bouncer answered. Hmm…must have gone up quick then, Connor came this way all the time and he never even saw any surveyors marks.
“What’s it got?” Connor asked.
“Food, music, bar…all that.” The bouncer replied, he was awfully chatty for a hired thug, but it was kinda interesting to meet one who didn’t just grunt.
“Not country is it?” Connor asked, that was important. The bouncer smiled, and Connor didn’t like the look of it at all.
“Not the owner’s taste.”
Well it sounded all fine and dandy to Connor, maybe he could relax for a bit.
“Any reason Ah can’t come in?” Connor asked as the guy made no attempt to let him pass.
“Don’t think its yer kinda place cowboy.” The bouncer answered, mocking Connor’s speech.
That soured his mood a bit. What…was everyone in the world out to fuck with him today?
“Ah’ll be the judge of that thank you kindly.” Connor retorted.
The bouncer mock half bowed and took at step to the side.
“Don’t start nothing, won’t be nothing cowboy.” The large man threatened.
Connor snorted and threw his shoulders back, not even bothering to acknowledge the prick as he pushed the door open. Now he was determined to enter, just to spite the guy.
Besides…what could it hurt?
Famous last words really.
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Micah scanned the crowd intently, he was being silly, anyone would do really. But…no one really looked like they needed someone.
He enjoyed that, picking out some downtrodden lovely and then giving them a night they would not soon forget. It had always been a habit of his, a harmless one as far as he was concerned.
Some people just needed a savior, if only for one night.
But everyone inside looked rather cozy, probably enjoying finally having a haven way out here. He sighed, nursing his half full glass in one hand.
Even without his little quirk no one was really catching his eye. He had had his fill of slim, bouncy little glitter boys back in New York. Though he didn’t fault this new batch for expressing themselves for once, they deserved it, trapped out in bigot country like they were.
“Hello…” Micah cooed under his breath. Someone new had just entered, and perhaps out of sheer coincidence the music had changed. Switching from a fast, popish track to a thumping, harder one.
It fit, Micah decided.
The newcomer was a big boy, six foot four easy. His hair was long, a nice rich brown, and he didn’t appear to be too overly large, but he had a set of shoulders on him.
He stood out in stark contrast to the crowd, dressed only in worn blue jeans and a t-shirt. His coat intrigued Micah however, it was a long, heavy duster. Neither the tradition brown nor black, but a crisp white instead. Fresh bleached perhaps..
“White…” He thought. “Innocence…mmm”
How delightful.
The new man had a sturdy look about him, both in his posture and his walk. Interesting…a farm boy perhaps? To that Micah had to wonder…did he realize what type of place he was in? And more importantly…how would he react to someone like Micah’s attentions.
He was different then the rest, something new. Just what Micah wanted.
Micah watched as the new white coated ranger headed up tot the bar, and was mildly amused by the bartenders reaction. He couldn’t quite fault the man, the ranger looked more like the type that most of the boy’s in here had come here to get away from.
The altercation was brief and the object of Micah’s attention walked away with a bottle.
“Cheap beer no doubt.” Micah mused. Poor boy, never known true taste he would bet.
The ranger took a seat at one of the tables in a corner of the building, only twenty five feet away from Micah. Perhaps hiding…perhaps unsure….
Through the flickering dance lights Micah was finally able to see a face.
Young…that was the first thought that entered his mind. Hansom…was the second.
The ranger had a smooth tanned face, with just a hint of stubble…had probably shaved recently. It was a face with potential…hardy and wild at the moment, but not yet weathered. With work it could be anything, from a grizzled bearded mountain man, to a face that sat on a billboard.
He watched as the ranger stretched out a bit, cracking his neck as he did.
He looked interesting, he looked tasty…
He looked…perfect.
“And we go…” Micah purred.
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The seat was comfortable, which was a plus, but the service has sucked so far. The bartender had given him a little bit of a hard time.
“Sure you ain’t lost cowboy?” He had been asked.
That pissed him off, and he was getting REALLY tired of being called a cowboy. Yes he could ride a horse…but that didn’t make him a fucking cowboy.
But in the end he had gotten a beer, he actually hated beer, and found a nice place to sit.
The music was…different, club music he supposed, something he had never heard. The people were also different, and he didn’t recognize anyone yet…and the way they were all dressed…well he had seen it in movies but never in person.
So it was kinda interesting after all.
He was also starting to realize what the hell the ass of a bouncer had been talking about. There were a few girls here and there, but from what he had seen so far, about ninety-eight percent of the people in here were men.
“Am I in a gay bar?” Connor thought. He had never actually met a gay person before. It was…different, interesting in a…kind of national geographic way.
And the way they danced….wow…practically boffing right on the dance floor.
Seemed like everyone was a bit leery of him though, which was probably for the best, he wasn’t sure what he would do if one of them came up to him and-
“Good evening.” A voice purred from his right. Connor turned his head, and there was a…guy. A very fancy looking guy.
His outfit was different then everyone else’s, yet still something Connor had never seen before. It sort of reminded him of a suit…yet it wasn’t. He was wearing a black coat-like thing, with white embroidery. Under that appeared to be a deep violet shirt of some kind, black pants below that, and even they looked fancy.
Connor turned his head away, didn’t want to give the wrong impression after all.
“Howdy.” He muttered, and then went silent. But the guy didn’t leave.
“I noticed you from afar.” The guy said. “You’re quite different from the rest.”
Kay….the guy was definitely not from around here. His accent was thick, something Connor couldn’t even begin to place…and who talked like that?
Good voice though, the guy could easily do voice work in movies or something. It was rich, deep and silky, yet…very authoritative. Almost a sexy James Earl Jones voice…though not quite that deep…close though.
Normally Connor wouldn’t pay attention to things like that, especially not with another guy but…he had never heard a voice like that.
“Uh…okay.” Connor said, not really sure what else he could say. It seemed to amuse the guy however.
“You look troubled.” The guy said. Wait…was he being hit on? No…that was just silly.
“Its that kind of a world.” Connor replied.
From his clothes the guy looked like he had money, and his voice had a high class edge to it. So even if it was a gay bar…and this guy was a…gay person, he wouldn’t be interested in a roughneck like Connor…
“That it is.” The guy murmured. “May I sit?”
Polite…but was it a loaded question? It was a table after all, but…crap what was he supposed to do?
Thinking about it Connor decided it couldn’t hurt. Besides…it took balls to just come up to a guy like him, it was respectable in a way.
And he felt like he was getting WAY to paranoid.
“It’s a free country.” He answered.
Smiling the man slid into a chair, resting his chin on the backs of his interlaced fingers a few moments later. Connor flicked his eyes towards his new table-mate, but quickly focused on a blank spot on the far wall.
But after a few minutes Connor found himself getting a little nervous, he wasn’t looking at the fancy boy, but he could feel the other’s stare on him. He wasn’t used to being stared at, yet each time he flicked his eyes towards his table-mate the other man just looked amused and contemplative. He was not really sure how to take it.
“Is looking upon me such a difficult undertaking?” The man suddenly asked. Connor had not been expecting it, but he still felt foolish as the man’s voice made him jump slightly.
“Huh?” Connor grunted, and the stranger chuckled.
“Why not turn and face me?” He was asked.
“Why should Ah?” Connor countered, feeling pensive and not really understanding why.
“Because my face is far more pleasant to gaze at then a spot on the wall I assure you.” He was told. “Or is having a conversation with me too intimidating?”
For a moment Connor actually felt like he was being rude, but pushed it away. What really got him was it almost sounded like the guy was suggesting he was afraid, which totally pricked his pride.
“Ah wasn’t aware that we were havin’ a conversation.” He replied. Something about what he said seemed to amuse the other man even more. The man laughed, and it danced across Connor’s skin like velvet, and it made him shiver.
What the hell was that?!
“My friend…I would not come to you and request permission to sit near you if I did not wish to converse with you.”
Normally Connor would have pointed out that they were not friends, but something about the other man’s manor stopped him. He had the feeling it was just something the guy said.
“Micah.” The man said, holding his hand out.
“What’s a Micah?” Connor retorted, deliberately trying to be a smartass.
“I am a Micah.” Micah replied humorously, holding his arms out in a -viola- gesture. “Feast upon my glory.”
Connor actually had to chuckle at that.
“And might I inquire what your name is my dear white ranger?”
White…wha? Well it was better then cowboy but…Connor really wasn’t sure what to say, this was not something he was used to.
“Connor.” He grunted, taking Micah’s offered hand.
“Connor.” Micah whispered as if testing his name out. Connor was surprised as he shook Micah’s hand, the guy’s grip was like steel! Not at all like Connor had heard guys…like him would be.
Micah laughed and Connor gave him an inquiring look, which Micah eloquently brushed off.
“So what brings you to this fine establishment dear Connor?” Micah asked. “I mean no disrespect, but you do not look like one of the normal clientele.”
His tone was so casual, Connor wasn’t really sure what the guy’s aim was. Of course…maybe he was just a friendly person?
“Ah wuz bored. Never seen this place before. Thought Ah’d check it out.” Connor drawled. Micah smiled faintly, an amused twinkle sparkling in his eyes. “What?” Connor asked, confused by the look.
“Ah wuz bored.” Micah mimicked.
“Makin’ fun of me?” Connor asked, but Micah shook his head.
“Not at all, I find it honest and pleasing. I am also sure that you have noticed that I speaking differently as well.”
Well that was unexpected, Connor turned in the cushioned seat, moving to face Micah. He was used to being made fun of for his speech by out of towners, and making them regret it. But this Micah…he was something different, so far at least, and that made Connor…curious.
“Well then…where you from?” Connor asked.
“Guess.” Micah replied playfully. Connor rolled his eyes, had to be somewhere in Europe…course his accent did remind Connor of an old movie.
“Transylvania.” Connor supplied. Micah’s eyes appeared to literally flash, and his face split into a wide grin, displaying a hint of pearly white teeth.
“Oooh, close actually.” Micah chuckled. “And you are a local I assume?”
Connor nodded, taking another swing of his drink…god he hated beer, but there wasn’t much else in bars around here…other then whiskey, and he really did NOT need that in him tonight.
“Yea.” Connor grunted, and a few seconds later he faintly heard Micah mimic him under his breath once more, still looking amused. “So what brings a fancy boy like you all the way the hell out here?” Connor asked.
“I am friends with the owner of this establishment, and I have never been to this part of America before.” Micah answered. “What do you think of it?”
Connor thought about that seriously for a second, maybe that was why the guy had come up to him, for ideas, or suggestions or…something.
“Ah’d git more security, put in some more fire exits, and be ready for one.” Micah looked puzzled, so Connor went on. “Think about where you are, the moment wind of this place hits town….Ah guarantee they’ll be a friggin meeting at the church before too long.”
Micah nodded.
“I will be sure to pass that along. But I must say…you do seem rather comfortable here. Odd I think…unless of course your look belies a secret.”
“Ain’t nobody botherin’ me.” Connor said with a shrug. To which Micah licked his lips.
“Exquisite, good to know you do not think of me as a pest. Not sure if my poor heart could take it.”
Connor laughed lightly, yup…he walked right into that one he did.
“Might I buy you a drink?” Micah asked, which jolted Connor.
“W-What?” Connor stammered. Micah smiled, did he ever stop? And rocked his head to the side.
“Your drink is empty, I am offering you another.”
“Well…Ah dunno…” Connor muttered. “Might give off the wrong impression…and Ah don’t really want another beer.” Micah laughed again, was everything funny to him? Once again it slipped inside of Connor, touching things inside him that he…didn’t even know were there. Making them tighten, making them tremble.
It freaked him out a bit.
“Dear Connor, I do not wish to startle you, but considering where we are, anyone who sees us will undoubtedly thinking one of us is attempting to gain entry into the other’s bed.” Micah purred. “And the drink I had in mind was far more….high class then a measly little beer. I am willing to bet it is something you have never tasted.”
Connor felt even more nervous then before, perhaps sensing a trap. Something was off about this Micah…something Connor couldn’t quite place…and this drink, he had heard of girls being drugged in clubs before.
“Are you?” Connor asked suspiciously.
“Non.” Micah stated. “I did just meet you after all, it would be rather….low of me now wouldn’t it?”
Connor gave him a sideways look.
“Then why did you come over here?” He asked.
“Because you are by far the most interesting looking man I have seen since I first arrived here…and you look like you could use a friend.”
Again…Connor really wasn’t sure how to take that. The compliment made him feel good, and to be honest…he didn’t really fancy sitting alone in the dark right now.
“So….” Micah rumbled, leaning in closer and resting his chin on one hand while the other lightly played across the table. Micah had longer nails then most men, and they were shiny, like he had just had a manicure recently. “How about that drink?”
He looked innocent and open but…
“Maybe he has.” Connor thought. “And just why would he want to trick you? You’re nobody.”
“Ah guess one couldn’t hurt.” Connor said. Micah sat up, looking pleased. He raised his hand and to Connor’s surprise someone came over a few moments later. Micah rattled off a detailed order, one Connor could barely understand, and then they were alone once more.
“Might I asked what would have a obviously hard working man like you out and about so late? You look rather tired.” Micah asked.
“You got that right.” Connor muttered as he wiped at his eyes. “Ah’m plum tuckered out…but…” He trailed off as his brain kicked in. Now he knew he was exhausted, he didn’t even know the guy yet he had been about to start yammering about his personal business.
He really needed to get out of here…right now and-
“Why not talk to me? I am unbiased, and anything you say could hardly come back to haunt you…after all we may very well never meet again.” Micah soothed. Again Connor was caught off guard, and felt foolish fro some reason.
Why was he being so paranoid? Not everyone in the world was bad. They guy was being friendly, hell…maybe he was writing a book about people around the country for all Connor knew.
Yet even as Connor thought that he still felt a nagging in the back of his mind. He pushed it away as a glass filled with clear liquid and ice was set in front of him. Connor eyed it suspiciously and Micah chuckled.
“It is not tainted in any way, I assure you.”
More assurances eh?
“Well if it is Ah’ll be cramming mah boot up yer ass.” Connor quipped. He picked it up and held it under his nose. It smelled….tropical. “Fittin’” Connor muttered.
“Indeed.” Micah added. Okay now that was getting weird…
With a shrug Connor downed it, his mother had always said to keep an open mind about new things after all. He waited for the burn, the vile taste that would make him cough and gag…but it never came. It went down smooth, tasted rather…well like it smelled, tropical.
However Micah’s reaction was something to behold. The dark haired man was about two steps away from laughing his ass off.
“Whut?” Connor asked indignantly.
Struggling to regain control over himself Micah wiped a tear from his eye before he answered.
“It is not a shot my friend. You are supposed to drink it in sips.”
Oh…well…how was he supposed to know the fruity drink etiquette?
“Why?” Connor asked. “Gittin’ drunk is gittin’ drunk.”
Micah shook his head, clearly trying to keep from laughing once more.
“Enjoyment is the purpose, not intoxication. Take it in slowly, roll the taste in your mouth. A simple pleasure really.”
Wow…there sure were some differences between them then.
“A simple pleasure?” Connor muttered. He was a bit confused. Sure it tasted good, but it didn’t FEEL good.
“There are many simple pleasures in life.” Micah said. “Fine cuisine is a simple pleasure, tea is a simple pleasure…” Micah leaned forward once more. “Conversation is a simple pleasure.”
Connor could totally see that he was being pressed a bit, but when he opened his mouth to say something another drink was set in front of him. Connor flicked his eyes to it, then to the retreating waiter, then back to Micah.
“A second chance so to speak.” Micah said. “This time…savor it.”
Connor giggled in spite of himself. This was all so bizarre, certainly not something he had thought he would be experiencing when he woke up this morning.
“Ya know…mah dad would freak if he knew Ah was here, let alone doin’ this.” Connor admitted. Micah cocked his head to the side.
“Does that mean you will be leaving?” He asked. Connor snorted.
“Hell naw…Ah love pissin’ him off.”
Connor picked up the drink. What could it hurt? He didn’t plan on getting real drunk…and besides….from the taste it was a sissy drink anyway….
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Micah smiled as Connor continued to drawl on. He was enjoying the young man’s company more then he would have guess he would. He found himself oddly fascinated by Connor’s colorful stories. Which were really about nothing but common days activities…but the way Connor told them was interesting.
He was rather amused as Connor finished off yet another drink, it was amusing because Connor had seemed to think that the gentler flavor meant that it was light on the overall alcohol content.
He was wrong.
Connor didn’t seem to realize how tipsy he had become. Of course Micah had given him a little push now and again, which had not been easy in the slightest.
The boy was a challenge, and that excited Micah.
He was also a very boisterous, chatty drunk, and Micah found himself enthralled by that drawling, honest voice. It was odd, but for the first time in a very long time…he was enjoying himself.
It had taken a little work, but soon Connor had opened up. Speaking of his childhood, his mother’s death, the dream of college that had been dashed, the trouble with his older siblings, with his father. Connor spoke of his desire to help his youngest brother, and his desperation to leave himself.
Micah shared it all with him, the good, the bad, the painful, it had all spilled into Micah. Connor talked about how he wanted so much more out of life, he wanted to escape, he wanted to be free.
“So…” Connor muttered. “What’d yew do? Ah don’t buy that yer out here jus’ cause of yer friend.”
He was intelligent and perceptive as well.
“I am a businessman.” Micah reported, oddly pleased that Connor was inquiring about him.
“Wait, wait….lemme guess, lemme guess.” Connor insisted giggly. “An art dealer?”
Micah smiled as Connor laughed at his own words. It was rather cute, Connor’s assumptions about him.
“I do…sponsor the arts yes.” Micah admitted. “But I have my hands in various dealings. Shipping, real estate, among other enterprises.”
“Mm…sounds like yew a rich man.” Connor muttered. Micah tilted his head and raised his hands in a slight bow.
“Thinkin’ of startin’ sumthin’ here?” Connor half asked, half stated.
“It had crossed my mind.” Micah admitted. “There is much I could bring your town.”
Connor scoffed, puzzling Micah.
“Ah wouldn’t do that if Ah were you.” Connor said flat out.
“Oh? And why do you say that?” Micah asked.
“Well…you wouldn’t be welcome, that’s fer sure.” Connor replied, munching on the bowl of chips that he had ordered.
“Really?” Micah mused. “Not partial to outsiders here?” Connor nodded.
“Yea…you could say that. Lemme put it to you this way….about four years ago one of those big store chains tried to open around here. An’ in three months their windows got all smashed in, trucks tires were slashed all the time, shoppin’ carts stolen or wreaked…an’ they even got fire bombed a time or two.” Connor reported.
As far as the world had come….some things never really did change did they?
“Did the authorities not intervene?” Micah asked.
“Oh shore, shore…” Connor replied, nodding his head. “They were -baffled-” Connor made quotation signs in the air. Micah just shook his head.
“Rather stereotypical wouldn’t you say?” Connor just shrugged.
“Small town, very defensive Ah guess. Don’t much concern me anymore….Ah jus’ want out.” Connor said. “You’d betta take care though….you ain’t a yank, hell you’d be worse. All…foreign and stuff.”
“Yes well…in my defense I did not have much of a say in the matter of my birth.” Micah said with a laugh. He had yet to actually venture into the town, and while he was not overly concerned…he would keep Connor’s words in mind if he happened to visit it. “Hmm…it occurs to me….I may be able to help you in your quest to leave this place.”
Connor cocked his head to the side.
“Huh?”
It was cute, each time Connor seemed to get stuck. Though Micah had to wonder if he was simply becoming confused over and over, or had a hearing problem.
Micah locked eyes with Connor, who blushed faintly and looked away. That was cute as well, but Micah was serious, he could easily find a job for the boy. Micah reached out and ran his fingers lightly along the back of Connor’s hand.
“I said, I believe I can assist you in your escape of this place.” Micah whispered. “But perhaps we should save those details for another time.”
Connor’s blush had grown deeper, and he still would not meet Micah’s eyes. His hand twitched under Micah’s fingers, and Micah pressed into it a bit more firmly. He had been sneaking in light little touches along Connor’s hands, arms, and legs the entire time. He wanted to try and gauge who the young man might react to his…attentions.
Perhaps it was a good time to proceed….but Micah found himself uncharacteristically hesitant. The worst that could would be Connor rejecting him and leaving, but really….it was nothing to be pensive about. Granted there was always a chance the farm boy could become violent, but Micah could more then handle himself if it came to that.
Not that he thought that it would happen, Connor seemed to be rather sweet natured.
“You do not seem to share the same qualities that you attribute to your neighbors.” Micah said.
“Uh…well….Ah’m not an asshole, and Ah try to keep an open mind about new things, and new people. After all…takes all kinds of people to make the world.”
Micah resisted another smile, he did not want to give anything away.
“Well….I am very glad to hear that.” Micah reported as he took Connor’s hand in between both of his own. “Then perhaps you might be willing to give me the honor of a dance?”
Connor blinked, and then looked at his hand.
“Uh…wait…w-what?” Connor fumbled. For the first time in a very long time Micah found himself actually caring, he truly did not want things to go sour. Slowly he drew Connor’s hand up, and laid a gentle kiss upon it.
“A dance. Dance with me my dear Connor.”
The poor boy’s mouth kept opening, but no sound was coming out, other then flustered grunts that was.
‘B-but….uh…yer…a man.” Connor said, apparently having forgotten about the nature of the place he was now in.
“Mmhmmm.” Micah purred. “It would be just all wrong otherwise.”
“Um….Ah….” Connor mumbled as he looked around, perhaps looking for an out. “Ah dun think….um…w-well….”
“It is something new.” Micah said, using Connor’s statement against him.
“Well…uh….yea…” Connor muttered. “Ah don’t…Ah don’t know…know how to dance.”
Nice try.
“I will be more then happy to teach you.” Micah stated. He was not outright refusing, which was good.
“Um…Ah’m not…r-really sure…” Connor began, but Micah gently bit down on the tip of Connor’s index finger and quickly sucked it into his mouth. Connor’s eyes went wide as Micah gave it a little tug, swirling his tongue around it before releasing it with a wet pop.
“Please..” Micah whispered smoothly. “I would really enjoy it. I think you would as well. It is just a dance, nothing to be afraid of.”
The look of uncertainty on Connor’s face was adorable. Suddenly Connor took a deep breath and locked eyes with Micah.
“Look….Ah don’t want anything in mah butt.” He stated earnestly.
For the second time tonight Micah lost his composure. He had to release Connor’s hand to cover his own mouth as laughter exploded out of him.
It took some work but Micah was able to stifle himself, and gave Connor’s hand a reassuring pat.
“I….oh goodness….ah-ha….I swear on my mothers name that I have no intention of trying to put anything in your butt.” Micah vowed.
God that was priceless, absolutely priceless. Clearly the young man was more affected by the drinks he had consumed then he appeared.
“Come now.” Micah whispered as he shrugged off his coat. “Dance with me.” He could not stop himself, he had to have this, so he pushed…just a little.
Connor blinked.
“Um….”
“Just think of how your father would react if he knew.” Micah chuckled, using the second weapon Connor had given him. Connor gave him a lopsided grin that actually made Micah’s heart flutter slightly.
“That it would….that it would….” Connor giggled, which didn’t match up to what Micah had said, but it worked. “Oh…Awright.”
Connor stood up, taking off his long coat and laying it off the table he locked eyes with Micah.
“Mah coat had better be okay though…”
“It will. I promise.” Micah said as he took Connor by the arm and led him towards the dance floor. He wasn’t going to give the young man time to re-think his decision.
Once they reached the floor itself however Connor hesitated, stopping right as Micah stepped up onto it. But Micah did not allow him to remain there, he literally pulled Connor up with him, a move that obviously surprised Connor and caused him to stumble into Micah as his feet hit the elevated platform. Micah rumbled internally at the feel of Connor’s solid body against his own. Oh yes…he was going to enjoy this.
“Yer stronger then you look….” Connor muttered.
“I work out.” Micah giggled.
Connor looked very nervous, his eyes were darting around to everyone else on the floor, who admittedly were staring at the poor boy. Micah only smiled.
“Ah dunno what to do.” Connor admitted.
“Just relax….and let me move you.”
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Connor didn’t know how he had been talked into this, or what the hell he was doing up there. Micah was leading….but he kept stumbling. He felt like a fool….
He felt all woozy in the head too…
Micah was smiling in that odd way again and was practically writhing on top of Connor, it was very strange….and didn’t match the gentlemanly picture of the man that Connor had formed in his in during the short time they had known each other.
But the way Micah moved…good Lord….it was like he was liquid steel, fluid and strong, over here, over there.
People were still staring, but the actually looked…jealous. Personally all Connor wanted at that moment was for Micah to stop having him turn around and all that other movement. He felt so light in the head already…he didn’t want to get sick.
Suddenly Micah turned, pulling Connor’s arms around him as he molded them back to front. Unfortunately they were only about two inches apart in height, which caused Micah’s butt to be pressed RIGHT into Connor’s groin.
“M-Micah…” Connor gasped. Micah twisted his head and gave Connor an evil, saucy look.
Then he was moving again, rubbing against Connor in a way that a man really shouldn’t. They were pressed so tight against each other that Connor could feel Micah’s back muscles clearly against his chest, which once again reminded him of liquid. For being so dainty looking…Micah was rather strong.
Connor tried to focus on that, instead of the extremely firm booty that was gyrating against him. It wasn’t obscene…yet, but it was a bit much…and it was having an effect.
Groaning Connor tried to pull away, only to have Micah grab both sides of his jeans at the legs and yank him back in. Then Micah’s hands slid up, his fingers slipping into Connor’s hair, teasing his scalp.
Connor wrapped his arms around Micah’s chest, just trying to hang on. He didn’t know what to do, and he really did not want to give away that he was currently hard as a rock.
He also didn’t want to fall down.
Suddenly Micah broke away, spinning on his heels until he was looking at Connor across the space he had just created. Micah looked…posed then. His body was tilted, one hip jutting to the side, his hands cocked, his hair falling about him like a cape as it glittered under the light.
It looked purposeful…and sexy as hell.
Micah slowly licked his lips and began to stalk towards Connor. It reminded Connor of a time when he was a little boy, his mother had taken him to the zoo. Once there he had ended up in front of the tiger cage, staring a real live tiger right in the eyes, not bred in captivity either, it had been freshly captured in the wild. He clearly remembered the way the massive cat had stared at him, the way it had moved as it stalked back and forth in its new prison, and Micah had that exact same look in his eyes.
He felt like prey then…and he felt like prey now.
Difference was that this time…he had no steel bars to protect him.
They both had that same look, Micah and the tiger, the same flowing steel under their skin.
It frightened Connor in a primal way that he could barely understand, just what kind of person could look and move like that?
Connor put his hand out just as Micah reached him, maybe to try and keep him at bay, he wasn’t sure. But Micah slipped right past him before he could even blink, and appeared behind him, pressing tight against his back.
The only noise Connor could manage to force out was a high pitched little squeak that was SO not manly.
Then they were moving again, and Micah’s hands were roaming everywhere. Touching Connor’s jaw, his throat, his chest, his stomach, the insides of his thighs. All were manipulated with an expertise that Connor’s addled brain could not even begin to comprehend.
Thankfully other then a few light brushes Micah did not touch the part of Connor that was beginning to demand attention. Connor wasn’t sure if he was grateful of that, or just frustrated.
He didn’t have much time to focus on it however, because…he was moving.
Or more specifically Micah was MAKING him move, and in a way that Connor never knew he COULD move. He was dipping, twisting, snapping back up, sliding up, gliding down. Parts of him were shaking in ways he didn’t even know how they were doing so.
He was…dancing.
Then Connor felt Micah’s hot, wet tongue glide up his sensitive neck and he gasped, his whole body trembling.
“M-Micah!”
The next thing he knew Micah’s panting mouth was right next to his ear.
“You truly are special Connor,” came Micah’s heated whisper.
“Th-Thanks” Connor gasped as Micah laid a wet kiss on the side of neck. Micah’s fingers slipped back into Connor’s hair, pulling it tight as he pulled Connor’s head to the side.
“I want to show you something….” Micah purred into Connor’s ear, his voice thick and hungry.
Connor did not get a chance to ask what that was because Micah’s head suddenly dipped down, his open mouth pressing into Connor’s neck.
A split second later Connor felt something sharp stab into his flesh.
It HURT.
But the pain, and Connor’s attempted shout where both quickly engulfed by a tidal wave of pleasure that exploded inside of him. He didn’t know where it came from, and his brain had suddenly bowed out completely.
Connor squirmed in Micah’s embrace, which had become tighter then he had ever been held. He was faintly aware of a strong pull against his skin, but he could barley think at all anymore.
Something was overwhelming all of his senses and he felt himself peak…and let go, without a single touch.
A delighted squeal from Micah reached his ears as little whites spots began to dance in front of his eyes…
Soon everything went white and….and….and he….
To be continued.