Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real-life events or people is entirely coincidental.
Please do not copy or distribute this story without the author's prior consent.
If you have anything against gay men with powers, sexual content, violence, gore, or swearing, then this story won't be for you.
A/N: Last chapter was a short one, introducing our first 2 main characters, and giving you a brief glimpse of their personalities before plunging them right into a violent, life-changing event. When we last left the boys, they were in a standoff with a mysterious new character, who's appeared right after their assailants died horribly. This chapter will see less action and (a lot) more introspection, as Alex and Vic come to terms with what's happened, and are forced to decide what they must do next.
Covert Forces
Chapter 2 - set to I Want to Hold Your Hand by The Beatles https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipADNlW7yBM
It had all been going so well.
Just a few minutes ago, Alex was conversing with a wonderfully handsome, charming man, and he could feel the limitless possibilities that were developing between them. Vic may have complicated matters with the whole 'being foreign' business, but Alex knew that this was someone he wanted in his life, in one capacity or another.
Now, he stood beside Vic in a ruined bar littered with bodies, confronted by yet another newcomer who looked like he was dressed to kill, and was certainly equipped to do so. He was an Indian man of their age, clad in a sleek white track suit jacket and red T-shirt, paired with an oversized belt, deliciously tight skinny jeans and black Nike high-tops. The only thing that gave him away was the outline of a Beretta 950 he'd hastily stuffed into a jean pocket. Rather inappropriately, Alex couldn't help but think that this dude was quite the looker too.
"Listen, I know you're still shaken by what's happened, but I promise I can help you," the newcomer stated calmly, his hands in the air as an indication of peace. His eyes were a piercing shade of dark olive, with his plush pair of lips resting on an otherwise slim and angular face, framed by short black wavy hair and stubble along his jaw, all of which softened a kind but serious look. "Will you trust me?"
"First, you get us the hell outta here. Then, we talk. I don't know who you are, mate, but you have a lot of explaining to do." The jokey, charismatic Vic was gone; his voice now sonorous and commanding despite his trembling lips, his eyes lowered and sharp. It was a drastic transformation that both impressed and shocked Alex.
Their new acquaintance simply nodded in understanding. "OK, follow me. We have to be quick." The trio quickly shuffled through the back door into a narrow alleyway, and the stranger proceeded to fiddle with his phone. "What are you doing? You better not be calling the cops," Vic snarled, which caused the other party to look mildly annoyed. "No, I'm pinging my associates to come here and do some clean-up. Oh, and erase signs of your existence from any surveillance. By the way, do both of you remember when you went into the bar?"
"Around 8:30pm," Alex offered. "I remember checking my phone just before I entered." "Then I went in about 5 minutes before that," said Vic after thinking for a bit. "Does that help?"
"Indeed, thank you gentlemen. OK, message sent," the stranger declared. "Sorry guys, let's keep moving." Thankfully, it was a short walk to a relatively quiet side street, where they approached a dusty Toyota Camry which was quickly unlocked. "I'm going to drive you all a safe distance away from here, then you can make your way back by public transport. Is that fine with both of you?"
"There isn't another way, yes?" Vic shrugged. Alex thought he'd better try and defrost the situation a bit. He was as suspicious of this newcomer as Vic was, but someone needed to be the good cop. "Please do, and thanks," he requested politely. "Preferably in another borough." The group rode in complete silence, past wailing sirens and flashes of red and blue lights. There was a silent fear present, that the car would be pulled over and everything would go downhill from there. Thankfully, this did not happen, and the police cars thinned the further they went.
Throughout the journey, Alex's gaze was focused on Vic, with whom he was making eye contact. They could feel their mutual confusion and dread, as well as the awkwardness of a third party's presence, which further added to how draggy the ride felt. Alex felt an oppressive weight in his head, the suppression of unspoken thoughts and an obstinate attempt at normalising the situation. A determination to act as if nothing extraordinary happened in the bar, that something surreal was not irreversibly unleashed.
It seemed like eternity, and the occasionally nerve-wrecking slow traffic certainly didn't help, but they were eventually in the vicinity of Queens Plaza. The car pulled into yet another quiet spot, and its driver turned to face them. Again, his look was calm but serious, and his voice mellifluous. "Before I let you guys go, I need to tell you something."
"Well, it's about damn time," Vic fumed. "You couldn't have told us what the fuck was going on, during this long drive?" Alex gave him a warning stare. "Calm down, man. I'm sure our friend here meant well. Probably wanted to give us some down time, and gather our wits."
"That's partially it. I also don't want to overcomplicate things, so just listen to me for a minute, alright?" Their acquaintance's expression wavered with a slight uncertainty, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "Something horrible happened back at the bar just now, and I wasn't able to stop it in time. But I have a feeling that both of you did." Vic was about to open his mouth again, but the fellow quickly continued his speech. "No, you don't have to explain anything. It's clear that whatever went on was beyond the usual rules of science. You may be surprised to hear, though, that your case isn't unprecedented."
"OK, correct me if I'm getting this wrong." Alex's eyes narrowed with disbelief as he couldn't hold back his rant. "So you're saying there are others out there who can do weird, supernatural shit. And somehow, you think we fall into that same category? Look, you can pitch this idea to Fox for their new X-Men movie, but it's otherwise preposterous. All we did is survive a shooting, and frankly? That's more intrigue than we need for the rest of the year." He wasn't sure if he totally believed what he was saying, but he desperately wanted to.
The stranger remained unruffled. "The facts are these, though. 2 unarmed men somehow survive an onslaught of bullets, and their attackers even die in the process. Even if you don't believe me, at least ask yourself this: what are the odds that everything happened as it did, without other variables in play? Do you yourself believe this was a coincidence?"
Satisfied with the ensuing silence, he continued. "Here's my offer. The way I see it, you have 2 choices. You can choose to ignore what happened today, and we all pretend you weren't at the bar. That's alright, I know if someone just told me what I said to you, I would still be skeptical. Maybe I don't want to get myself into a huge mess, or some weird conspiracy I'm not even sure exists. The other option I want to propose, is that we have a more in-depth chat, and I fill you in with what I know. Trust me or otherwise, the resources are there to help you better understand what's going on. If I am correct, this is just the beginning of what you can achieve, and you can develop that potential - maybe point it in the right direction, but we can talk about that later."
"Let's stick with 'later'," Vic offered. His eyes were still angry, but his expression had relaxed, and it was clear he was giving the idea some consideration.
"My honest thoughts are that you can't run away from this. We can leave you two alone, but chances are that someone else will come knocking. And it'd be an engagement you'll like even less." A calling card out was fished out of the glove compartment, and placed in Alex's palm. "Call this number if you're in - password's 'Godot'. If you're not, destroy the card. Don't let anyone else get their hands on it." It was a plain card with a printed contact number, nothing else. "Alright, I've said enough. Have a safe journey home, fellows."
"Thanks for getting us out," said Alex with a polite smile, and he quickly clambered out of the car in relief. He did not want to spend another second in the vehicle. Vic was about to follow suit, before he spoke up as well. "Look, I'm still not sure about all this, and frankly you're fishy as hell, but you did help so thanks for that. Sorry if I got lippy, it's not every day my life becomes a Fringe episode."
A slight smirk appeared on the other party's face. "Don't worry, I understand. Anyway, give it some thought." He was soon gone, and Vic and Alex were left standing around in a light drizzle, looking at each other and utterly tongue-tied for seconds.
"So, uh, I guess we really need to talk," Vic sputtered. It was the understatement of the decade.
"No shit we do," Alex murmured wryly, his face weary and muted. "We should do it somewhere private, though. How about my place? Or do you want to use your hotel room instead?"
"Actually, I was wondering if you could host me for the rest of trip," Vic replied sheepishly. "I don't want to be trouble, but... It doesn't feel great staying by myself, after what's happened today."
"I was thinking the same, actually," Alex grinned. It wasn't a feeling of lust or outright happiness, but simple relief that he had companionship. "Let's go pick up your stuff, and then we can get settled." It was then another hour or so before they finally found themselves in the Upper East Side where Alex lived, with Vic teasing him about its association with trashy TV shows. "It's actually cheaper than the hipster bits of New York, though," Alex protested to no avail. The little bits of jokey conversation they made helped ease the bubbling tension, for the commute was otherwise silent.
The apartment was not particularly big, but comfortable enough and nicely furnished. "Let me pour you a drink," Alex offered. "Any preferences?"
"Something strong, please and thank you," Vic sighed as he sank into the plush sofa. "Man, I still can't believe you called this place a 'humble abode'. Such bullshit."
"It's just a saying," Alex teased, setting down two glasses of whiskey on the rocks. Vic grabbed one glass and took a huge mouthful. "Ah! I really needed this."
"Tell me about it," agreed Alex, who sat down next to Vic and took a slightly smaller sip. The whiskey's intense malt sweetness and burn was doing wonders for his nerves. "Okay, time for serious business. We have these 2 nuts shooting up the bar, and we try to run. By all odds, we shouldn't be standing, given how efficient they were with their shots. But then, a number of things happen, and these guys end up dying instead."
He furrowed his brow, going through the events in his head again. "First, they miss 2 shots. OK, we were running and all, but they were not wasting any ammo before that. Second, one of them trips as he is about to fire, his hands twist, and he shoots his partner instead. Again, super weird, but it's something that could still happen in the heat of battle. And then, when he's about to get up and shoot us, he starts coughing..." His voice trailed off, not wanting to continue.
"That works out to be 2 events which are plausible but improbable," Vic noted, taking another drink from his whiskey. "And 1 which should just not happen. Alex - you were staring at the man before he started coughing and all. I tried to pull you towards the door, but you were in this funny daze, and you said to wait. Do you remember that?"
"Vaguely," Alex sighed, his head hung low in regret. He didn't want to talk about it, but Vic was right. "Like I told you back there, it was this feeling in my head. I knew we had to stop him. I just knew - I could do something about it. I had a fleeting memory, thinking about the most dangerous thing that I could recall. It's like there's this clacking noise in my head, and things fell into place. God, I can't remember what it was, but I didn't want to kill anyone." His body trembled with misery, causing Vic to put a strong arm around him in comfort. Alex felt his unconditional support and understanding, the velvety touch that he possessed despite his taut muscles. "Sorry, I'm not usually this weak," he smiled feebly, "I swear."
"Alex," Vic was looking intently at him, those gorgeous features radiating concern and sympathy, but not condescending pity. "You're far stronger than I'd be in your shoes. Give yourself a little credit bruv. Besides, fuckers wanted us dead - it would suck if you kicked the bucket."
"Smooth, Vic," Alex laughed, feeling a little less edgy now. He put his arm around Vic's firm back, as a reciprocative sign of appreciation. "I feel the same about you." Vic's eyes glistened with a kiddy joy as he pressed himself further against Alex, tightening their cuddle. "Alex, I must say this: I don't think you should shoulder the guilt alone. You know that 'clack' sound you felt in your mind? The same thing happened to me. In fact, it was just before those thugs fired at us and missed. As you said - there's a certain knowledge in your head. In my case, I just thought it'd be great to get the bullets out of the way. The second time, the tripping thing, I knew it'd happen as well. It could be intuition, but then again, these are plausible but improbable things happening."
Alex nodded, feeling a little less like a freak now. "Right, intuition tells you that something will happen, but these are still low-probability events which occurred."
"Yeah, seems like we have some ideas about what we can do. We can probably narrow it further from 'have weird shit happen around me' and 'kill someone horribly with a thought', but honestly? I just want to stop thinking about it for now. I'm deathly afraid of causing strange phenomena, in any case."
"Me too," Alex murmured, gently rubbing Vic's right shoulder with his fingers. "How about this? Tomorrow, we just spend the day out. None of this nonsense. You're here to see New York, after all. Then, maybe we can think about it afterwards."
"I like the cut of your jib," Vic flashed a blinding grin despite his exhaustion, and Alex felt his heart race. "I'll go get changed and crash on your sofa."
"You don't have to sleep on the sofa, y'know," Alex offered, which caused Vic to waggle his eyebrows. "Oh, you're in the mood for something?"
"Nope, sweetheart," Alex rolled his eyes. "Don't even think about it." Vic laughed and stood up, giving Alex one last firm rub on his right shoulder. "Seriously, though. Thank you, Alex." Vic looked the happiest he'd been in hours.
"Don't worry about it. Now go freshen up." Alex watched Vic retreat into the bathroom, sighing to himself while admiring his new friend's solid back and impressive ass. He couldn't help it because Vic just looked so damn good, although he was in no condition to act on any impulses. Was it inappropriate to be lusty after killing someone, anyway? He polished off the rest of the whiskey while waiting his turn, trying to relax himself and clear his head of the day's many distractions. Each sip was savoured slowly, trickling down his throat with a smouldering sensation, feeling like it burnt away at his troubles.
Before he knew it, he heard the bathroom door open with a click. His head turned instinctively, rewarding him with the sight of Vic in his sleepwear. Vic's tall, sculpted frame was clad in a tight white tee, which showed off his arms and contrasted beautifully against his dark chocolate skin. A pair of black boxers clung tightly to his muscled thighs, not even bothering to hide a sizeable bulge that lay dormant. That dimple-accentuating smile was on his chiseled face again, propping up a Greek nose and surrounded by a light dusting of stubble. And his dark brown eyes were big, soulful and contemplative, probing Alex with mild amusement, gleaming like his shaved head did under the white bathroom lightning. "Mate, I'm very flattered right now," Vic teased Alex, who wasn't even hiding his gawking. "But please don't do this."
"You'll get to stare later," Alex smirked.
"Wait, what makes you think I'll want to look?"
"Then don't," retorted Alex. "I must remind you, though, that you approached me today." Before Vic could get the last word in, he slammed the door shut and quickly stripped to shower. He just wanted to get into bed and end this stupid day. Vic lying next to him was also a very nice bonus.
Vic uttered a wolf whistle when Alex emerged, which made him blush a little. "Alright, I get it. That was rude."
"You're forgiven," Vic grinned insolently. "Come on over."
"In case we're forgetting something here, this is my bed."
"Yeah, but I get equal rights when I'm staying over, right? Anyway, I shall very kindly give you room." Vic scooted over onto the other side of the bed, giving Alex space to jump in. Their hands touched under the covers, and a soothing warmth tingled up their arms, into their hearts and minds. Although they were 2 very attractive men sharing a bed, they knew that nothing was going to happen. Not today, at least. Right now, they just needed each other, a reassurance that their world hadn't gone totally off kilter. They were gazing into each others' eyes, wordlessly exchanging looks of content and gratitude, swearing to recover their energies and face the next day together.
"We should turn in early," Vic whispered in his sexy voice. "Good night, Alex. Thanks again for everything."
"No," Alex smiled. "Thank you, Vic. G'night." Vic was out quickly, and the sight of his peaceful face lifted Alex's spirits, calming him enough to fall asleep too. His last thoughts as he slumbered were not about the bloody violence or his strange abilities, but making his day out with Vic a good one.
Vic wasn't much of a dreamer, but a very vivid scenario played out in his head that night. it was still set in Alex's apartment, which was now cluttered with his belongings as well. His body leaned snugly against Alex's, and the blonde stud was gently caressing his hand. "Vic, I think we might need a larger apartment. It's kind of squeezy when the gang's in here."
Vic could feel the words coming from his dream self, even if he had no control over it. "You're right, I don't think the living's room supposed to fit 6. Although I see it as being 'cosy' instead, since this place holds a lot of memories. Not just for me; for us." There was a fond look on Vic's face as his gaze swept across the room.
"Hmm, what if we get to put a king-sized bed in the new place?"
"That's the game changer right there," Vic smirked. "I'll hold you to it."
"Oh, definitely." Alex agreed. "And we should find a building with enough spare apartments. Then we can get everyone living in the same compound, which makes it easier to hang out and strategise."
"Sounds good!" Vic was grinning at Alex, his approval obvious. "My only concern would be our enemies finding out we're all in the same place. I think we've done a good job concealing our tracks, though. We could float the idea tomorrow, see what the lads think of it."
"Alright, I guess that's settled at least. Thanks hun, you always back me up." Alex gave Vic an appreciative peck on the cheek. "Oh, is that all I get?" Vic complained with mock indignance.
"That was just a teaser," Alex smiled, and he suddenly forced his lips against Vic's, crushing his mouth and twisting with as much force as he could. That cheeky slag! Vic was slightly taken aback, but his tongue quickly recovered, wrestling for dominance against Alex's. It was sloppy, rough and boner-inducing. Alex grabbed Vic's shirt collar, pulling him closer and not letting go, their bodies squeezing against each other. With the might in his powerful body, Vic shoved Alex against the couch, their breathing heavy and eyes lusty-
A noise from the real world rang in Vic's ears, jolting him awake with a start; he realised dully that it was a notification from his phone. The room was filled with bright rays of sunlight, and his body pressed very comfortably against Alex's. In particular, his hardon was resting snugly in the crevice of Alex's muscular behind. "Bloody hell!" he swore under his breath, his head throbbing with a dull ache. He gently eased himself from his sleeping companion; not that he wasn't enjoying himself, but it'd be awkward if Alex awoke to getting dry-humped.
God, what was going on? Vic felt like his life was being turned on its head. Alex was wreaking havoc on his defenses, and it'd only been 12 hours or so since he'd known the guy. What he'd intended to be a short fling or one-night stand was more complicated than he wished for. Granted, the circumstances were so unusual, he couldn't tell what was going to happen next. Maybe it was better if he just went with the flow for once, and not fight this strong impulse in his heart.
"Okay," he thought to himself. "Alex seems like a swell guy. He's sweet, fairly smart and feels genuine - that's beyond any of my past experiences. I really should approach this with an open mind, see how today pans out. I just don't want to end up being hurt by him - god, he seems so promising."
Vic's phone rang again - it was his mother, trying to contact him through Skype, and he swiftly answered the call. "Victor! Oh, thank the Lord. Your father tried to call you so many times, he's worried sick. Son, are you alright?"
"Mum, I'm fine," Vic reassured her. "Sorry for not picking up, I was still asleep. Did something happen back in London?"
"No, my boy! Have you not seen the news?" there was astonishment in his mother's voice. "There was a shooting at some gay bar where you are now, and 15 people died. It's making international headlines - nearly gave me a heart attack when I read about it. I'm so glad you're safe, but remember, boy - there are people who will kill you just for who you are. Promise me you'll be careful, okay?"
"Don't worry, Mum. I'll make sure to," Vic's voice was tender, touched by his mother's concern. "Thanks for calling, I really appreciate it. Maybe I could speak to Dad as well?" After receiving repeated assurances that he'd stay out of queer neighbourhoods, Vic's parents finally let him off, but not before reminders that they loved him very much.
As he hung up, a groggy Alex was just stirring awake, looking stunning despite his bed hair. "Morning," he slurred. "That's an early phone call."
"Yeah, it was my folks. They heard about what happened, and they were worried I might be involved. Look, it's all over the news." Vic moved over to Alex's side, and together they read the reports: the 'suspects' involved were disgruntled veterans, whose minds never survived the Iraq War. The most popular theory suggested that they intended to send a message, about the types of people they served the nation for. This apparently didn't include liberal Yankees, gays, or a combination of both. They then offed themselves, preferring to die at their own hands instead of statists'.
Alex's brow was arched in amusement. "Does this story sound accurate to you?"
"Not quite," Vic frowned. "Certainly not the end bit. I think our mystery friend has something to do with this, though."
"I agree," Alex sighed. "We're still going in circles with this. We probably won't come close to figuring this out on our own. Did you sleep well, by the way? I was expecting nightmares or surreal dreams, but nothing like that happened."
"I'm not sure if I should say this..." Vic paused, embarrassed to continue further.
"Generally, this means you should," Alex grinned cheekily. "I'm all ears. What could be so bad, anyway?"
"Don't freak out, but I dreamed that we were together, here in your apartment. We were part of a team, I'm not sure what it was exactly, though it seems we made a few enemies. And, uh, we made out for a bit before I woke up."
"I mean," Alex flushed a little, "I could think of worse. I know we talked about how perhaps you were intuitive, and could perceive things that might happen in the future. Be honest though, could this be something that's coming entirely from your subconscious feelings? Do you like me, Vic?"
"Time to be frank," Vic thought. He could sense that Alex was as nervous as he was, if not even more so - might as well thrash things out between the two of them. "That's what I'm not sure about, Alex. Look, you're a very attractive man, and I don't just mean appearances-wise. I like your personality and attitude towards things as well, from what I've seen at least. I hesitate to use the 'l' word, but what I see is that a future might be possible."
Alex felt himself breathe easier, relieved that Vic had enough trust to lay his cards on the table. "This might sound silly to you, Vic, but you've brought a spark into my life I desperately needed. When I came to New York, I was trying to escape what my family and friends wanted me to be - a good ol' waspy Southern gentleman. Yet I still found myself moving in circles, stuck in the same cliques and prejudices I've faced all this time. Took a while to realise I just gravitated towards safer choices despite wanting to change, making the tiniest adjustments to my life. Heck, I went to college in Austin, and still ran around the same groups of jocks and well-off brats. If I didn't change my attitude, I'd have the same problems no matter where I ran to."
"So that takes me to yesterday," he continued, his smile widening as Vic listened intently. "I swore to step away from my usual toxic crowd, stop pretending I fit in with them. I ended up turning them down, seeking out someplace different instead, and here we are. I know I said I wanted different... well there's one great thing that came out of all this, and that's you Vic. Like you said, it's way too soon to say anything concrete, but I want us to figure out where we stand."
"At least we're on the same page," Vic beamed. "Alex, you said this would just be a day out, but I want it to be more that. I want us to get to know each other, or at least give it a good shot. We talked about pleasantries last night, things that we liked, surface-level stuff - I enjoyed that, but all it made me want to know is find out more about you. What makes you who you are, cut past all the fluff."
"Works for me," Alex nodded. "Once we figure out the dynamic between us, we can shape our approach in handling all the other complications. We're kind of in this together after all." He was about to get out of bed to freshen up, when another thought struck him. "Hold on. We were rambling on about what prompted your dream, and it led us to have this nice little relationship talk. Which is good, but we almost forgot about the dream itself! I was thinking it might be worth recording as some kind of reference."
"Good idea, actually. You got a blank diary lying about? Looks like I'm starting my own dream journal - just assure me that you won't subject it to Freudian analysis."
"No guarantees there," Alex threw Vic a spare notebook, grabbed some clothes from his closet and headed into the bathroom, while the other man started scribbling away. When the door was shut, Alex took the opportunity to quickly rub one out. It was a desperate episode, driven by a need to ease the inconvenient sexual tension with Vic; all he needed to visualise was his crush in sleepwear, and he was off in seconds. "Pretty pathetic having to wank into a toilet," he sighed, but he didn't want to do anything until they were more certain about each other.
When Alex was done, Vic was completing the final part of his journal entry. He had structured his writing like a play script, with detailed notes on the setting and little nuances he noticed. This was a man who was disciplined and meticulous, despite his attitude possibly suggesting otherwise. "Sorry, I might've gotten carried away," he shrugged. "Nice outfit by the way, even if you still need new clothes." Vic had never been fond of what he deemed country club wear, but Alex fit it so well anyway, that he couldn't complain about the way a red polo tee and tight Levi's 511s showed off his contours, topped off with a pair of dark brown leather sneakers.
"I'm sure you can help rectify that later," Alex smiled. "Now hurry up and get changed, so I can take you out!"
"Alright, guvnor!" Vic gave Alex a mock salute, causing the latter to roll his eyes and grin. He ended up having a quick wank as well, and for the exact same reasons Alex did. "What a bloody waste of cum," he thought to himself. "Ah well, Alex's waiting." He decided on a snug-fitting yellow T-shirt, stone-washed denim jacket, white trousers and low-topped red-and-black Adidas trainers. The combo was well-received by Alex, who desperately focused on unsexy thoughts to kill his stirring loins.
They kick-started the day with breakfast at a deli near Alex's apartment, and got to better know each others' backgrounds over pastrami sandwiches and coffee. Vic's father was a Nigerian poet while his mother was an Afro-Caribbean English teacher, and he'd grown up in a noisy but culturally-rich environment. His parents cultivated a love of the arts and humanities in him, which complimented his natural aptitude with mathematics and statistics. Although his family wasn't particularly well-off, he did great enough academically to enrol in Oxford, and hoped to make a decent living in in financial services. Coming out had been painless, despite a period of angst that he harboured, and his parents told him that he was loved unconditionally.
Alex expressed his envy of Vic's family life; he explained that he was born in a fairly rich household, and while he got anything he asked for materially, he never felt like he fit in. It wasn't just his sexual orientation, which he denied even to himself until his move to New York. He was constantly surrounded by fawning admirers and peers from a similar socioeconomic background, who were vicious and nasty under all their pretenses of civility. He'd come to realise that no matter where he went, he would be doomed to unhappiness as long as he hung out with the same types of people. He'd been raised conservative, and was ashamed he'd never critically reflected on those ideas until after high school. He had a drastic swing in attitude once he did, but even then he held his tongue in his social circles, knowing the consequences for stepping out of line. Personal drama aside, though, he'd always been a star student and athlete. Besides an almost-stereotypical interest in football, which Vic argued was inferior to soccer, he graduated summa cum laude in chemical engineering. Now, he wanted to focus on achieving balance in both his personal and professional lives.
"You're doing good mate," Vic assured Alex in between bites of his sandwich, "Introspection doesn't come easy. I have a lot to learn myself, but sometimes it's just hard to see your flaws objectively. I reckon that by vocalising all this, you're doing a lot better than most folks already, so give yourself more credit."
"Thanks," Alex was appreciative, although clearly a bit self-conscious. "Now I've got to walk the talk though. Self-reflection doesn't count for anything if you don't act on it."
"Eh, Alex. From what I know so far, I don't think your personality's an issue. It's more about understanding other perspectives and reconciliating the differences, which you're doing a good job of. Mostly, at least - seriously, you were surprised that I was British?" Vic teased. "Have you not seen Idris Elba? He's everyone's favourite Black British Actor Dude."
Alex's face was a deep shade of crimson. "Sorry, bro, I had a blonde moment. It's not like I don't know better, but it's just not something you expect, you get what I'm saying? Besides, I might've gotten distracted by your voice - it's positively magnetic.
"Magnetic voice, eh? Says the boy with a Southern twang - I've always thought that was trashy hot."
"Don't let a Georgian hear that - we're supposed to keep it classy here," Alex laughed. "Even if it's usually anything but that..."
The meal ended on a light-hearted note, and Vic was positively raving about the pastrami. The way he described breakfast, with its gorgeous mess of sour, salty, sweet and spicy flavours thrown together, triggered memories of the tastes in Alex's mind again. Vic had vivid and elegant ways of describing things, a fondness for colour and flourish that communicated his adoration of life. It was a world that Alex found himself increasingly drawn into.
Their next stop was MoMA, to gawk at and chat about a range of installations spanning from great masterpieces to the plain bizarre. They'd share silly stories about themselves as well, in between minor debates about their varying interpretation of artworks. Surprisingly, Vic thought that a lot of 'contemporary art' was utter tosh, the product of cynical bloviating. Alex didn't disagree this was true sometimes, but he tried to be methodical and considered in his reasoning. Regardless, both of them conceded that the other made fair points supporting their views.
After a quick streetside lunch where they cheekily shared half-eaten souvlakis with each other, they walked off the meal by strolling along Fifth Avenue and admiring its bustle, stopping to take photos when something caught their interest. It wasn't long, though, before Vic insisted that it was time to go crazy shopping. He was game to try different types of fabrics and styles in hopes of finding an eclectic match, sometimes veering towards the more flamboyant end of the spectrum. Alex had never considered himself to be much of a shopper, but Vic's enthusiasm was infectious, not to mention his forcefulness in giving Alex new clothes to try out. When it was all over, some of Alex's haul included a selection of coloured shorts, V-necks, casual shirts and shoes. These were less fussy than his usual dress style but still modest, which Vic thought fit Alex's disposition. Vic himself wasn't a fan of over-the-top dressing, although he did like the occasional piece of scandalous clothing when he felt like being more provocative.
Their day ended with dinner at a busy little Japanese restaurant. Over plates of yaki udon, gyoza and salmon sashimi, Alex and Vic talked about their past relationships. It started innocuously, when Vic jokingly expressed his surprise that Alex was single, given how he was boyfriend material in almost all aspects. Alex noted that his coming out was a relatively recent affair, and before that he had only been with women, with the occasional hookup on the side. Since then, there weren't many men who caught his interest. Sure, he knew plenty of attractive gays, but many of them were also narcissistic, selfish and surprisingly judgmental. He'd soon stopped caring, rarely seeking out anyone except for a quickie here and there. It had led him to be slightly depressed as well, although he swore not to succumb to the jadedness that many in the community seemed to express.
Vic then admitted that his love life had been equally unsuccessful - there were a couple of boyfriends that lasted for a few months, but the long-term fit between them just wasn't there, and eventually some astoundingly mundane issue would collapse the relationship. They commiserated with each other through cups of warm sake, which were the perfect antidote to a chilly night.
They were laughing between themselves when they returned to Alex's place, hands full of shopping bags and hearts full of joy. It almost felt like a normal day, rather than a time out from some bizarre near-death experience. After setting down the bags, they found themselves back on the couch, comfortably close to each other.
"I hope you enjoyed today, Vic," Alex grinned. "I know I did. I thought I got to know you better today, and I really like what I saw."
Vic's face was serious but happy, and he broke into a soft smile. "I kind of have something I need to confess. Maybe I should've done this earlier, when we were eating that awesome Japanese dinner, but I'm not as strong as you are."
"Huh," Alex was now intrigued, his expression curious. "Don't sweat it, man. What's up?"
"I had told myself I wouldn't date a white guy." Seeing Alex's eyes widen in surprise, Vic hastily added, "Emphasis on 'had', alright? Let me just try and explain it. It's stupid, yes, but I hope you'll understand why I thought that."
"Okay," Alex was still bemused and frankly unsure what he thought, but he decided to hear Vic out. "Sorry, of all the things you said, that just came out of nowhere."
"See," Vic grimaced, hoping he hadn't fucked things up, "When I first got out and about, I was a horny, idealistic lad who thought I wouldn't have issues with sex or dating. I mean, I got my fair share of action, but when it came to the white boys I had a problem. You see, most of the time when I'd approach them, they'd say no. Sometimes, they have this look in their eyes, and any minority person knows what it means. There are also people who aren't even polite or diplomatic about it. And when I did get hookups, most of my partners would want me to act like some aggressive hoodlum or street thug, shouting at me to punish their arse and make them hurt. It's painful, and it's not something I wanted to experience. It just happened way too often."
"And then here you are," he continued, looking like he might break into tears, "And you just effortlessly destroy every single barrier I've put up. Alex, mate, I was always a bit wary when I interacted with you, and for that I'm truly sorry. You were just so fantastic a guy, I was afraid there was that hidden side in you, that I might not really be someone you really liked. It makes me feel awful that I've even harboured such a thought. You've showed me you're beyond any stereotype or misconception I might've had about you, and you're someone I want in my life too."
Alex was angry and sad at first, but after hearing Vic out, he just wanted to give his crush a tight hug, and comfort him in his arms. Vic had seemed so jovial and strong, that it never felt like he had been carrying this pain. In any case, it seemed like he wanted to start their relationship on a totally fresh slate, and Alex was more than happy to oblige. He stood up and positioned himself over Vic, smelling the other man's pleasant scent of shower gel, feeling his trepidation. "You have nothing to apologise for, Vic," he whispered, his voice shaking with nervousness. "Now, we have a chance at building something real."
At that point, they knew what was going to happen, and what to do: their lips closed the distance, and both of them wished they could forever relive this moment, when they felt each others' intimate warmth for the first time. Relief, happiness, security: a floodgate of emotions burst out, having been barely contained over the past 24 hours. What started as a chaste kiss grew heavy and fervent, not so much of sexual desire for now, but to make up for all the lost time they'd missed before meeting each other, and for the great promise that lay ahead in their lives. Their muscular bodies were rubbing, and their arms were wrapped around each other, but all that they cared to focus on was the kiss between them.
They continued until they were utterly breathless before finally breaking off, panting and grinning stupidly at each other. The men just sat on the couch, cuddling each other and feeling their partner's comfortable body heat, tired but very happy. In addition to the emotional comfort they gave each other, they now physically felt the bond between them. Amidst the chaos that had overturned their lives, they would have each others' backs, no matter what happened next. And they were confident in what they were about to do next.
"Thank you for that, mate," Vic gave Alex another light kiss on the lips, a goofy smile radiating from his face. "I'm glad you're coming along for the ride."
"Of course I am." There was a mischievous spark in Alex's eye, a rare moment of cockiness that Vic found especially sexy. "Now that we've sealed the deal, we can try to figure out the other parts of this mess we're in."
"Right," Vic nodded. "Time to make a phone call."
Next chapter: The boys visit their new friend, find out what exactly they can do, and what the hell is going on (sort of). Among other happenings, of course.
Do you have any thoughts, speculation, suggestions or (constructive) feedback? Feel free to email me at benwritesstuff@gmail.com.