by Todd Young
At around ten thirty, Erran came out and walked to a cafe on the corner. He ordered a coffee and donuts and ate on a stool, staring blankly at Fifth Avenue. Akam wondered if he might be meeting someone, but no. Within twenty minutes he was walking back to his apartment, and that was the last Akam saw of him until twelve thirty or so, and then he really had to go.
He caught the subway to Chelsea, and walked to July’s place on Twenty-Fifth Street. She lived with her parents in a renovated brownstone, an address that he’d passed more than once in his walks, though he’d never had the guts to drop in on her. Now, feeling more than a little nervous, he mounted the steps and rang her bell. She answered almost immediately and said she was coming down. He rang for a car, figuring it wouldn’t arrive until she appeared, but it came almost immediately, floating to a stop beside him.
“Oh, hey,” she said, closing the door behind her.
He’d thought of bringing her flowers, but had decided against it. And now, seeing as she’d come straight out without inviting him in, he was glad he hadn’t.
“I’d invite you up,” she said, “but really, you don’t want to meet my parents.”
He nodded and then gripped her hand as she stepped into the car. He followed her in, sat opposite her, and reeled off the address of the restaurant. Then they were on their way.
“You look great,” he said.
She was wearing a navy blue dress with a floral pattern and was carrying a white handbag.
“Thanks,” she said, “but I only dress like this so I don’t stand out. To tell you the truth, I’d rather be wearing a pair of jeans.”
He nodded, and they rode on in silence. For some reason he could think of nothing to say to her, though they talked all the time at work. It was a clear day, the sky blue and the air crisp, and he thought of mentioning this, but then thought again, figuring the weather wasn’t a great way to start a conversation.
As they were nearing the river, she said, “You okay?”
He nodded, and then smiled. “I’m nervous.”
“Nervous? What about?”
“Meeting you. Like this.”
She smiled and then playfully smacked him on the knee.
At the restaurant, once they were seated, he told her he’d spent the morning outside Erran’s apartment.
“Oh, really. And …?” she said.
“Nothing. He walked to the cafe on the corner.”
“You really think there’s something to worry about?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s simply jealousy.”
“Jealousy?”
“He’s attracted to you.”
“You think?”
“He makes it pretty obvious.”
She nodded vacantly, and then turned her attention to the waiter. After a moment, she turned back again and said, “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
He smiled, and from that moment forward the date took a positive turn. Now he felt he could talk to her, and he began by asking her what sort of films she was interested in. Before he knew it, they were eating. She asked him about his education, his family and so on. He was an only child and both his parents were dead.
21
Xavier greeted Susen with a smile. “There you are!” he said. He pulled the door back and she walked into the apartment. It was large and expensively furnished and there were several guests gathered in the living room. The first thing she saw, as she stepped forward from the foyer, was her brother, Antony.
“Antony!” she said. Her surprise was great. When Xavier had asked her to dinner, the last thing she had expected was to meet her brother. She hadn’t seen him for a month or so.
“Susen?” he said, as though not quite sure it was her. He seemed suddenly embarrassed, though why, she couldn’t have said.
Then Xavier turned and took Antony’s elbow. “Come into the kitchen,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
Susen frowned. There was something about the way Xavier conducted her brother out of the room that made her wonder. They were gone for a few minutes while she chatted to the other guests, and then Antony was back again.
“What on earth are you doing here?” she said.
“I could ask you the same question.”
“You could.” She paused. “How do you know these people?”
“I met Xavier through a work contact.”
“I see.” She nodded and scanned his face. He seemed troubled by something, and in the dim light, she was reminded of times they’d lain in bed together at home. She felt a rush for him. He was attractive. Then Marte tapped her on the shoulder.
“Come and meet some people,” she said.
She drew her toward a young man with sandy hair who was standing alone by the window.
“Tom,” Marte said. “This is Susen.”
“Oh, hello. How are you?” His intonation was odd, well educated, and he had a strikingly intelligent face.
She fell into a conversation with him and Marte drifted away again.
“You’re new,” he said. “Where did you come from?”
“The flower store.”
“The flower store?”
“I work with Marte.”
“Oh, right.”
“What do you do?”
“Me? Oh, I’m a man of leisure. I’m not doing much at the moment.”
She nodded. It seemed odd to her that he would be here — another young man. She had expected the guests to be contemporaries of Xavier’s, and there were three or four. Everybody else was young.
They sat at a table for twelve and ate what amounted to a banquet. At first she assumed Marte had cooked, but then realized the whole thing had been catered. She wondered at the money they had, and then Xavier attracted her attention.
Antony was sitting on his left, and it looked all the world to Susen as though they were a couple of some kind. She had frowned at the situation again and again, Xavier bending over solicitously to say something quietly to Antony. As the realization dawned on her that this might be what was happening, she blanched. Her brother? A deviant? Surely it wasn’t possible. She knew he wasn’t like that. It surely had to be a friendship. Surely.
“What a remarkable coincidence to find your brother here,” Xavier said.
She nodded politely.
“I’ve only just met him, but he’s a rather remarkable young man.”
Again, she nodded, perhaps a little confused.
He patted Antony’s hand and she swallowed. Obviously that was the situation, but what on earth was Antony thinking. A mature-aged man like that. If this went where she was expecting it to go, then Antony could very well get caught up in things. He might be arrested himself, which would mean castration for him. A surprising thought. Though it was one that bought a smile to her face after she’d considered it for a moment. Her brother? That would be odd. To be responsible for that. She winced, unsure what to make of her feelings, and then turned to her left.
[] [] []
When they got home again Creig was in high spirits. He’d mentioned the foreskin thing on the way home, and Riley had had to say that it had got involved in his bike chain. For some reason, Creig thought this was hilarious. He laughed over it, and slapped Riley on the back.
“You poor guy.”
Then he said he was going out, to a game, some ice hockey game, and Riley and Theo had the apartment to themselves. Theo began by taking his clothes off. He stripped down until he was wearing the thong again. Then he said, you get undressed too, and plucked at Riley’s shirt. Riley took a deep breath and did the same. He peeled his shirt and trousers off.
Theo smiled. “I want to see,” he said. Then he plucked at the pouch of Riley’s jockstrap. “Show me how it’s different.”
Riley hesitated. They’d been naked at the pool, but that had been different. He’d hardly been able to look. Now here they were, standing in front of one another, the traffic on the street all but silent, though bright reflected flashes occasionally lit the room.
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“Come on,” Theo said. He stepped forward and slipped his thumbs into Riley’s waistband. Riley took a deep breath, and then they were kissing again. It was soft and tender, and after the pool it felt fresh. Theo pulled back after a few moments and begun to slip Riley’s thong over his thighs. Riley closed his eyes.
“I don’t mind it,” Theo said. “But boy that must have hurt.”
“I don’t remember it,” Riley said, opening his eyes once again. “They did it when I was a baby.”
Theo reached forward and gently gripped Riley’s cock. For a moment, Riley felt as though his eyes were bugging out of his head. Then his cock began to fill. He closed his eyes again.
“Do you really think they made me out of that?” Theo asked him.
“What?” He opened his eyes again.
“You said they made me out of a piece of your skin. Was it this skin?”
Riley shook his head and then began laughing, his eyes open once again. “No, Theo. That’s not the way it works. It was done for hygiene, but the practice is almost outdated. They never should have done it to me.”
Theo nodded seriously. “Even so, they could have made me out of that, couldn’t they?”
Riley nodded. He felt a little distracted, his cock filling in Theo’s hand.
“I’m just going to do this,” Theo said. “If you want to stop me, you can try.”
In one fluid movement, he lowered himself to his knees. He lifted Riley’s cock into his mouth, and Riley exhaled.
“Oh, hell,” he said, as his cock firmed in Theo’s hand. Theo gripped his ass cheeks, and soon Riley’s hands were in his hair. He began moving gently back and forth, but it was too much for Riley. He came, right at the same time as Theo pulled away, and then had the disconcerting experience of watching his own cum stain his face. It spurted over the bridge of his nose, and into his eyes. It was on his lips and on his chin. He smiled unexpectedly, and Theo laughed.
[] [] []
At around ten p.m. Erran stepped out of his apartment building and onto the street. Akam let him walk to the end of the block and then turned to follow. He turned onto Sixth Avenue, the bright cars blazing, and began to walk downtown. It was a bitterly cold night, the sky clear above the city. Akam hunkered down in his jacket and tried not to stare at Erran. They had told him, when training, that if you stared at someone they were more likely to turn around and spot you.
Erran didn’t seem bothered. He seemed to be walking in an easy and carefree manner. Perhaps it had never occurred to him he might be tailed. It seemed that way.
Akam kept his eyes fixed straight ahead. He was good at this, he told himself. He’d been walking the streets for months now, and with his hat brim pulled down, no one gave him a second thought.
Erran led him to East Thirty-First Street, a street Akam could never remember turning onto before. A block ahead there was a bright structure, a tower built to resemble the Eiffel tower, though it was small, maybe thirty feet high or so. This was the tower, then. It turned out to be a cafe with seating at the base of the tower.
Akam held back, by the corner of a building and watched Erran cross the street. He stepped into the cafe, disappeared for a moment, but then Erran spotted him slipping into a booth, right by the front window. A woman was sitting there. Not a young woman, but a middle-aged one.
Akam crossed the street.
With an eavesdropper, he could most likely have heard what they were saying, but he didn’t have a eavesdropper, a type of directional microphone. He would have to ask July for one. Then he could listen into the mysterious F., whoever she was, and see what it was about.
He decided to enter the cafe. Erran hadn’t spotted him yet, and it could easily be a coincidence. He tugged on his hat brim and carefully opened the door. Then he saw Akam getting up. Apparently there hadn’t been a lot to say. A moment later, Akam passed him. Their shoulders brushed.
Had Akam seen him?
22
Susen met Creig at ten a.m. They sat down for coffee by the boardwalk. And then exchanged pleasantries. By the time the conversation proper began, they had been there for more than twenty minutes. Susen said she was an FBI agent. She made that clear.
“So, what do you want?” Creig said.
Susen cleared her throat. “It’s your housemate, Riley. He’s being investigated. For deviance.”
“Riley?”
“Yes, does it seem incredible to you?”
Creig leaned back. He looked a little stunned. Then he nodded slowly.
“It seems incredible?”
“Hell, yes. He’s fine.”
“You really think so?”
Once again, he nodded. Then he gripped one hand with the other.
“We might be willing to pay you, if you’re prepared to out him.”
“Out him?”
“Make it official. We’ve gathered quite a bit of evidence, but we’re yet to catch him. We need that. You could help us.”
Creig lowered his head. He was silent for a few moments, but then said, “What sort of money’s involved?”
“I have a check here, for $300,000, made out to you.”
Creig jumped, and then tried to cover it. He put both hands on the table. “Three hundred thousand?”
Susen nodded. She paused for a moment, and then said, “But we’d need to catch you in the act. I need a 3vid.”
“What about me? Wouldn’t I be arrested too?”
“No. You’ll be safe. Nothing to worry about.”
Creig nodded vacantly, and then turned his eyes to the river. When he turned back again, Susen was sipping her coffee. She placed it carefully onto the table.
“I gather you’re interested.”
“Maybe, but … what would happen to Riley?”
“Oh, he’d be incarcerated. Eighteen months or so. It isn’t the end of the world.”
Creig took a breath and she knew she had him. She knew she had him.
[] [] []
When Creig came home, Theo was in his underwear again. Only this time it was worse. He was wearing a jockstrap, his ass bare.
“Hell, Theo, do you ever wear clothes?”
“This is clothing,” he said, plucking at his waistband.
Riley didn’t know what to say. After the sex, they’d each had a shower. Theo had convinced him to put on an identical jockstrap, a bright white one with a banana and a pair of cherries on the cup. It was gripping his gear now. But after half an hour or so he’d put on a pair of trousers and a soft collared shirt. He hadn’t expected Creig to come home so soon. He’d said to Theo that Creig would most likely be out all day. That was the usual pattern. A game of hockey, followed by a night of drinking with his friends.
It had just gone seven p.m.
“How was the game?” Riley said.
“The game?”
“Ice hockey.”
“Oh. Right. Fine. Good.”
Creig was nodding, but he was looking at Riley with a fixed stare, as though he could see into him.
Riley swallowed. It sounded as though Creig hadn’t been to a game at all. And now, as Riley watched, he turned to Theo and stared, quite openly admiring his body. Riley swore under his breath.
“Are you going to put a show on for us, Theo?”
“A show?”
“You know. Dancing. Singing.”
Theo shrugged, and then said, “If you like.”
“Okay.”
Again, Riley swore.
Theo backed toward the wall. “This isn’t dancing or singing,” he said, “but it’s something.”
He skipped a few steps forward and performed a handstand, his back to Creig, his ass bare. His legs scissored for a moment. Then he gained his balance and began to walk forward. Creig stepped aside as he passed, his face alight.
“That’s your brother,” he said to Riley.
“I know.”
And once again it seemed to Riley as though Creig was admiring his body, as though he was naked in front of Creig.
Theo reached the front door and tried to turn. But he wobbled and fell, landing heavily on the polished wooden floor. He got up smiling, dusted off his knees, and then walked back into the living room.
“Go and put some clothes on, huh?” Riley said.
Theo nodded, and then disappeared into the bedroom.
“So?” Creig said, taking a seat on an armchair. He put his hands behind his head. “What have you two been up to?”
Riley thought of the oral sex. But there was no way Creig could know that had happened. Even the curtains had been closed. “Not much. Just talking.”
Creig nodded. “I met someone today. A girl. It’s made me think.”
“Oh, yeah. Is she nice?”
“Lovely.”
Riley bit his bottom lip and sat in silence for a moment. When Creig began talking of girls, he didn’t know what to say.
“You’ve got a girl at the moment, haven’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you bring her back here?”
Riley shrugged.
“I wouldn’t mind meeting her.”
He shrugged again.
Then Creig’s eyes cut sideways, toward Theo, no doubt, who must have been stepping out of the room behind him. Creig frowned, looked from Theo to Riley and back again, and Riley had a moment in which he understood something was wrong. Then Theo was beside him. He took a seat on the couch. He was dressed in the same clothes, the beige chinos, a green shirt, and the black Oxfords.
Riley flinched.
Creig whistled, a long, low sound. Then he said, “That’s cute, you know?”
“What is?”
“You two. Are you in love or something?”
“Of course not. He’s my brother.”
“I see,” Creig said. He nodded. “I wouldn’t be wearing the same clothes as my brother. I wouldn’t even want to talk to him.”
“We’re twins.”
“Yeah, but come on. Identical clothes?”
“We wore them as kids. And now, well, I don’t know.” He trailed off, and then turned toward the window helplessly. When he turned back again, Creig’s expression had grown dark.
“What do you think, Theo. You think there’s nothing wrong with that?”
