Lions, Tigers and Bears. Oh My!
Usual disclaimers apply. The following contains male-to-male sex.
If you are under age or such reading is illegal in your country,
please go elsewhere. Otherwise, please enjoy.
Critiques are welcomed at Kindar11@Yahoo.ca
A Special thank you to Brett for his
October 20th, 2010
Robert looked from me to Lao and Arsalan and back to me again accusingly. “Fine,” he said with a sigh, “you might as well come in.” He wheeled himself back before turning and heading to the living room.
I followed him not caring if Lao and Arsalan did too. The house smelled just like it had when I’d lived there; old varnished oak, polished steel and ash. My heart caught in my throat as memories resurfaced.
“I heard you’d been killed in Peru,” Robert said, “so I wasn’t expecting to see you again. I’d figured that was your way of letting me know you’d moved on.”
I wasn’t paying any attention to his casual tone I was too busy looking around the room. It hadn’t changed much the large couch we’d had sex on before that fateful trip was still there, but the love seat in front of the fireplace was gone. It had been my favorite. Many winter evenings had been spent with Robert sitting on it and me straddling his hips while he fucked me. With it gone there was more space for Robert to move around in his wheelchair. The pictures of the two of off were gone from the wall, replaced by pictures of his nieces and nephews.
“I’m sorry,” I said turning to look at him again, “I didn’t mean to . . .” Pain exploded in my head and I spun from the hit, falling to the floor.
“Don’t you move,” Robert said as I put a hand to the wound and it came back covered with blood, “This thing might not be silver but I can still lay down a beating on the two of you.”
The ringing in my head abated enough that I could hear Arsalan growling. “Stay out of this,” I told them before looking at Robert. He was holding the antique double prong fireplace poker I’d given him on our first anniversary. It had been made the year and in the city I was born. That he’d kept it warmed my heart, but seeing bits of my skin stuck to it turned my stomach a little. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You’re sorry?” he screamed, “for what? For abandoning me when I needed you the most, for not even telling me where you were or making me think you loved me?” He was brandishing the poker in my face.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated looking at the floor, the blood flow had slowed to a slow dripping. “I didn’t mean to . . .”
“To what? Leave me? What happened did someone come to the hospital and kidnap you? Take you to Peru where they held you captive till you died? Do you have any idea what it was like to wake up in a strange place and not have the one person you need there to comfort you? When I asked about you the nurse didn’t even know who I was talking about. Until my mom showed up and confirmed you were real I was starting to think I’d imagined my time with you.”
“It’s my fault we crashed,” I screamed, “and they told me you were going to die, ok? I freaked. I couldn’t handle the thought that I was going to lose you.”
“So you ran?”
“Yeah, I ran, I’m sorry. I ran away as far as I could so I wouldn’t have to think about you being dead.”
“So all this time, you didn’t know?” The news seemed to deflate his anger.
One little lie, that’s all it would take to end this. It would be so easy, I was so used to lying to everyone around me he’d never even know I’d done it. I looked at him and saw the concern in his eyes. I’d abandoned him, hurt him more than humanly possible and he was concerned for me. I didn’t deserve him.
“I knew,” I whispered looking at the floor.
“You *knew*?” he said after a moment of stunned silence. I glanced up at him and the concern was gone, replaced by disgust. “What the fuck was wrong with you? Why didn’t you come back if you knew I was ok?”
“I was ashamed. I’d abandoned you when you needed me. I couldn’t bear the thought that you’d look at me the way you are right now.”
“What the hell did you expect. You freaked out and ran, fine, but you *chose* not to come back. You *chose* to prolong my pain that way. You *chose* to let strangers tell me you were dead, except I knew you weren’t since no animal can kill you. You just moved on to another life and left me to suffer.”
“Stop saying that! If you meant it even a little you’d have let me know what was going on. I should just stab you with this poker and be done with it.”
“It wouldn’t kill me.”
“I know! But maybe you’d know what a broken heart feels like.” He looked at me and for a moment I thought he’d go through with it, but instead he flung the poker at the fireplace.
“What do you want?”
“You’re dead, so you’re not here to rekindle our relationship. What. Do .You. Want?”
I tried to look at him, but the anger in his eyes forced me to look away. I thought about just leaving, sparing him having to deal with me any longer, but I was so close. I couldn’t walk away now that the journal was almost in my grasp.
“I need you to track down one of Sir Richard Burton’s journals,” I said. “It was part of a lot Oxford lent to the Smithsonian in nineteen ninety and it’s still there according to their records.”
“Why do you want to look at it?”
“I’ve been looking for it for a very long time; it contains information about where werewolves come from.” Robert continued to look at me harshly. “Please, it’s important to me.”
“I do this,” Robert said after a moment, “and you leave. I get you a chance to read the journal and you get out of my life never to come back, understood?” The ice in his tone hit me harder than what he actually said.
I nodded and handed him the paper with the information.
“Stay here, I have to go look it up.” He wheeled himself away and moments later I heard the distinct sound of typing on a keyboard. While we waited Arsalan stretched out on the couch while Lao looked at the artifacts on the bookcases. I just stood there, drowning in memories.
“Here you go,” Robert said handing me the paper back. I hadn’t heard him come close I didn’t even know how long I’d been waiting. I looked at the clock and showed it had only been thirty minutes.
“What is this?” I asked. He had added an address to the information I already had.
“The journal was sent there last year to be restored. It’s still there.”
“Can you help me in?”
“No, now get out.”
“Robert, please . . .”
“Get the *fuck* out of my house.”
He slammed the door behind us.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Arsalan said on the way to the car.
Before I could even think about it I decked him. “That man was the best thing to ever happen to me and I ruined his life so don’t even think of making light of what he just did, got it?”
Arsalan looked at me bewildered before nodding.
* * * * *
“Yes, I understand that, I’m not asking to take the journal out I’m just hoping to get a chance to look at it, read it and maybe take some pictures of it.” The woman on the other end droned on. “I appreciate that, but I’m a historian, I know how to treat something with historical value.” She said a few things in an apologetic tone and then hung up.
I felt like throwing the phone at the wall. For two weeks I’d been trying to get someone to approve my request to see the journal without any success. I placed the phone back on the cradle and rested my head on the desk.
The door to our hotel room opened and Lao entered. “How ya doing?” he asked.
“Not good,” I replied without moving, “the way they’re treating me you’d think I was asking permission to steal every book in their possession.”
“Ya wouldn’t be asking permission if that’d be what ya was planning,” he said placing a bag on the desk. I could smell beef, well done in a wine sauce, various greens and garlic bread. Before I could salivate Lao massaged my shoulders and I moaned.
“Man that feels good.”
“Ya can’t spend all day hunched over that phone, ya gotta get out some.”
Lao had been mostly responsible for keeping me going. Every time I broke down because of what had happened with Robert he’d comfort me, when I blow up over trying to gain access to the journal he’d help me relax. Arsalan also helped by letting me take out my frustration on him, there was nothing he wouldn’t submit too if it came with sex.
“Maybe if they’re gonna treat ya like yer gonna steal from them ya should think about doing that.”
I chuckles and patted his hand before squeezing it lightly. “I’m not that desperate yet. I’m sure I’ll find someone who’s willing to listen to me.”
“Ya better eat first then if ya’re gonna call all night again.”
I did as he advised as he left the room and went back to making calls. Hours later I hadn’t gotten anywhere. I hadn’t stopped once their office closed. I left hundreds of messages explaining what I wanted and asked for them to call me back in the morning. I stretched and looked over Lao who was lying on the bed, in his tiger form, I’d heard him come in, but I’d been too busy leaving message to notice him undressing or shifting.
It was past ten so I undressed and joined him in the bed, running my hands through his fur. I woke him and we had sex. When we were done he kept on holding me, something he’d been doing most nights we’d slept together and I always slept better when he did.
At some point in the night Arsalan came back and we had sex again before I went beack to sleep held between a tiger and a lion.
Please send Comments and Critiques to Kindar11@Yahoo.ca