by Brynn Paulin
Tobias just as much. And he saw an opportunity…
“Perhaps we can soak in the steaming pool a different day,” he said. “For a token.” “A token?” Tobias asked as he changed his clothes. Wyn shoved off the suit and, after
drying, pulled his clothes from the space Tobias had called a locker.
He wrestled on the odd white pants he was to wear first. They cupped everything in a
manner he was unaccustomed to, but Tobias assured him that was normal.
“What favour do you ask?” Tobias prodded.
“Tomorrow we train.”
“Train? For what—wait! You mean sword fight. No. I don’t know how.” “You know how.” Wyn slipped on the soft pants Tobias had told him were called jeans.
He liked them, and Tobias had said they ‘fit his package nicely’ whatever that meant, though
judging from where the squire had stared, Wyn was fairly sure of the meaning. “I don’t.”
“You do. A knight never forgets.”
“I’m not a knight.”
“You’re a knight in all but name. If your family had had the wealth to outfit you…” Tobias scowled then pulled on the last of his clothes and sat to pull on his shoes. “I got a
call while I was out earlier. I have to go to the museum when we leave here. I translate
documents for them when they need me.”
“You have become quite the scholar. Reading old documents. Teaching.” “Squiring doesn’t pay well these days.”
Wyn yanked a shirt over his head. Tobias’ eyes grew dark as he stared at the way the
stretchy material hugged Wyn’s torso. He quickly looked away, but Wyn was left with the
impression of that look on his skin.
“I don’t suppose one can earn their way as a knight in this time either.” “Not the sort you are. There’s soldiering, but I don’t think it would suit you. It wouldn’t
suit me to have you in danger that way.” He picked up his bag. “Ready?”
Wyn repeated his action, the reality of his situation starting to sink in. Everything was
new. His skills weren’t of use here. What would he do?
Tobias elbowed him as they were walking. “I know that look. Stop worrying. I’ll take
care of you.”
Wyn scowled. That wasn’t the way of things.
He followed Tobias outside to his car. He much preferred the motorcycle, but Tobias
claimed this was better for carrying their things. He also claimed it would rain today. Wyn
wasn’t so sure. It looked fine to him, but Tobias claimed that in this place called Michigan the
weather often changed drastically throughout the day. Still, he’d rather they had ridden the
motorcycle. It seemed like a lightning fast horse. The car just…terrified him. He felt trapped
and out of control, and he didn’t believe Tobias for a second when he said it was safer. Pulling a blank face that wouldn’t reveal the way his heart thundered in his chest, he
got into the car. His left palm flattened on the top of his thigh while his other hand, hidden
from Tobias, clenched into a fist.
“I’d believe you were calm if you’d breathe,” Tobias chided as he manoeuvred the car
onto the street.
“I am fine,” Wyn replied.
“Ever the warrior.”
Wyn glared at him. For the duration of the journey, he considered the flogging he’d
give Tobias’ fair ass when they returned home. Far from the punishment Tobias deserved for
taunting him, they would both enjoy it. Wyn considered lashing his squire to the bed and
tormenting until Tobias begged for relief then tormenting even more. The plan had just
begun to solidify in his mind when Tobias turned off the car. He got out and walked into a large building made of sand-coloured brick. Rather than going up the wide steps to the front doors, he led the way to a door on the side of the building. He pulled out a rectangle of a material that new substance so many things were now made of. Plastic. He dragged it through a small slot then pressed numbers on the wall beside the slot. A flash of green above
the numbers accompanied a buzzing sound, and Tobias opened the door.
His carefree familiarity with everything Wyn found so foreign settled uneasily in Wyn’s
middle. There was so much to learn and to understand. He felt like an infant who knew
nothing of the world to which he’d been born. Even the language was unfamiliar. He
understood Tobias because he spoke the language of their time, but everyone else… They
might as well be speaking the language of the Muslims in the Holy Land, though at least he
understood some of their language.
The inside of the ‘museum’ interested Wyn with its many displays from his time. Of
course, it was disconcerting to see things he’d known as new look so aged. He tried to look
like he understood the conversation when a man and woman started talking to Tobias. He
was startled by the sound of tinkling laughter when the pair walked away.
The angel…
Was his time here complete? Had she come to rip him away? Heat prickled across his
shoulders, his middle jolting with a fear greater than that of being in the car. “What’s wrong? Your face has gone completely white.”
He shook his head. A flash of white beside them kept him from answering. “This is ridiculous,” the angel said. “I’m not supposed to interfere, but you’ll never get
anywhere if you don’t understand.”
“What the hell?”
At Tobias’ exclamation the angel pinned him with an admonishing glare. “Don’t swear,
Tobias. You know who I am. I saved you from a fate very nearly like hell on earth.” Turning back to Wyn, she placed her thumbs on his neck. Her cool fingers reached up
to his ears, two fingers resting in front of his ears and two behind. His skin seemed to tingle
where she touched him. Then she looked into his eyes.
A force like a raging river rushed through his head, shifting his memories and filling
him with new. Not events. A lifetime of knowledge. He understood without experiencing a
minute, a book filled with information but never alive.
Suddenly, she stepped back, severing the connection, and he stumbled. With a half
smile, she nodded then disappeared like mist in burning sunlight.
Tobias said something to him, and Wyn turned to focus on him. “Repeat that?” Tobias spoke again. It took a moment for Wyn to realise his squire spoke in Old
English—that’s what it was called now. Before Wyn could focus his thoughts enough to
translate the words, Tobias stopped speaking. “Wait! You just spoke in modern English…” Wyn rubbed his temple. “Yes… I do not know what she has done, but… I want to go to
a movie. Have pizza. And…get a…cell phone so I can call you whenever I need to.” He bent
slightly forward, holding his head, his eyes tightly closed. “God’s teeth, what has she done? I
have all this empty knowledge, yet I understand nothing.”
Tobias clasped Wyn’s upper arm, squeezed then gave two manly pats. “I’d say she’s
taken a shortcut. Made things easier for you. You’re lucky. It took me a year of intensive
language lessons to get even close to up to speed. Though from the sound of it, her
interpretation of Modern English doesn’t include today’s colloquialisms and is rather…old.”
He smiled, feeling himself falling into professor mode. “The language evolves constantly.
You speak like someone from a century ago.”
“I still have much to learn.”
“I’ll help you.”
The thought of his squire teaching him grated sideways across Wyn’s senses. He’d learn
Tobias raised a brow and laughed, obviously understanding his defiant body language.
“Or not,” he conceded. “C’mon. Let’s go find David then go get something to eat.” “David?”
“He’s the director of the museum.”
Visions of the past flittered through Tobias’ head as he led Wyn to the back of the Levey and up a dark set of stairs to the offices housed in the uppermost portion of the building. Frankly, the stairwell and the storage area they’d passed through to get to the lighted work spaces on the far side of the floor were spooky. At least, Toby thought they were. He half expected a bat to fly from behind a musty collection and wing its way past him.
He wasn’t afraid of bats—he’d been through far worse. The angel brought that all back in glaring detail. He’d suppressed the memory and now struggled to push it away again. It was too gruesome.
In the near darkness, he laced his fingers with Wyn’s. Anticipation of the night to come had been building in his belly since he’d watched Wyn trying on clothes earlier. God, how his jeans fit. He wanted to kiss his way over the soft fabric that covered his cock and defined his hard thighs. He wanted to kiss him passionately, losing himself in Wyn’s mouth while he plunged his hands into Wyn’s back pockets and cupped his hard ass.
With a slight jerk of his arm, Wyn pulled Toby to him and stepped between two stacks of wooden crates. One iron-like arm held Toby pelvis to pelvis with Wyn while the other hand explored Toby’s chest. Toby groaned as illicit sensations wound through him. He ground his erection against Wyn.
Wyn’s hand slid up into Toby’s hair, fisting and pulling back his head. He tasted every part of Toby’s exposed flesh while Toby wrapped his arms around Wyn’s shoulders and held on. His groin continued its gyrating. The friction, the way his erection forced its way over Wyn’s, shoved him further along the road of no return.
Wyn kissed his way to Toby’s ear, pulling on the lobe with his teeth then soothing the skin with his tongue. His hot breath sent a shiver through Toby.
“Tobias… I would that we were at your home and I could strip these clothes from you. I want to feel your skin on mine.” He pulled Toby’s hips hard against him, his hands squeezing Toby’s butt. “I want to take this ass and fill you with me until we don’t think we’ll ever be parted.”
“Yes—”
“Toby? Are you out there?”
Toby jumped. “David,” he whispered to Wyn. “Hey, David,” he called. “Yeah, I’m here. Just got up here.”
“Okay. Katherine called and said you were on your way up and I heard something.”
Heat rushed to Toby’s cheeks. God knew what David had heard. Way to keep it on the down low, Tob.
Stepping away from Wyn, Toby shoved his hand through his unruly hair. “C’mon,” he said in a low voice.
David waited for them at the door to his office, looking as impeccable as usual. His grey suit fit perfectly and, though it was late afternoon, remained crease-free. His silver-streaked black hair lay obediently in place with one strategically dashing lock curled onto his forehead. The man had GQ going on. Attractive but definitely not Toby’s type. Toby glanced at Wyn. He preferred his men more sleekly muscle-bound…and gay.
“Hi, David. Sorry, I was a little distracted on my way here. Stopping to look at things.”
David smiled and lifted a brow with a quick tilt of his head that clearly said, if that’s your story… “And is this your young man?”
“Excuse me? I—”
“Come into my office.” He headed inside to his spacious office in the work suite. He sat behind a large mahogany desk then indicated for his visitors to sit in the chairs across from him. “Toby, I asked you here because I need to discuss your knowledge of the medieval period.”
“Is there a problem with my work?” All he needed was a problem at Levey. He didn’t need the job—except for his sanity. The work with the documents soothed his mind. Now that Wyn was here, he understood.
“No, no nothing like that. Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to explain why. I’m sorry for the all the secrecy.”
“Okay…” He’d like to say he understood, but he didn’t really. He itched to reach out and take Wyn’s hand while he talked—this questioning made him nervous. How did one explain innate knowledge? Instead, he folded his hands in his lap. “I think you know I’ve always had an interest in the period. It’s been my life obsession.”
David nodded. “I have your resume from when you came to us. I guess you’d have to be somewhat obsessed to get your doctorate at such a young age. The question is…how invested are you in the period? You’re teaching English and a single history class at the college when there’s so much more you could do with your degrees.”
The question of his investment surprised Toby. He leant forward. “Truthfully, I took the job because it was near here. I wanted to work with your documents. I have the skills for dealing with artefacts and the knowledge to understand them. Invested? It’s my life. I might not be famous in my field, but I’d wager I know more about the subject than anyone—except perhaps Wyn,” he added, looking at Wyn. He glanced back at David. “That was rude of me. I haven’t introduced the two of you. David this is my…colleague Alwyn…Nerung.” Wyn didn’t truly have a surname. His home’s name would have to suffice. “Wyn this is David Harper.”
Toby’s eyes went wide when Wyn stood and held out his hand to David in a civilised, modern manner. The angel…
After the men shook, Wyn turned to return to his seat. “Yes?” he mouthed, his face showing his hope that he’d done the right thing. Toby gave a slight nod.
“So…” David went on. “You took a job you don’t particularly like so you’d have a chance to work with our collection. Hmm…I think that speaks well for your obsession, as you called it.” He lifted a picture from his desk. “Toby, have I mentioned my partner, Bryant?”
Toby’s mouth dropped slightly open at the photo of David with his arm around a young, black man.
David laughed and placed the frame back in its spot. “I’m astounded your gaydar is so broken. I’ve known about you from our first meeting. I thought you were equally aware. I—” He paused pressing his lips together, appearing to be choosing his words. “I don’t know how it is where you teach, but I suspect they’re rather…conservative. Around here, you don’t need to hide who you are. You won’t be judged or discriminated against because of this personal choice.”
Toby glanced at Wyn, stunned. David coughed, covering discomfort. “I’ve spoken out of line. I apologise—”
“No,” Toby rushed to say. “I’m just… Thank you. I appreciate your candidness. It’s difficult to know who I can be open with—and where I can be, too.”
“Okay, good. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure until I saw you with your Wyn here.” He chuckled. “Was beginning to think it was my gaydar that was off-kilter.”
“No, not at all. I’m just not used to talking about it.”
“I appreciate you coming in so I could ask you these questions—not that I didn’t already know the answers. You know…the board and their formalities. I trust you’ll know why…eventually.”
The whole exchange perplexed Toby as he and Wyn left the Levey, but if it meant the board allowed him to continue on, he’d gladly answer whatever questions they had. He frowned as he and Wyn exited into the parking lot. Several skaters he’d seen before lounged on the kerb. He had no problem with skaters, but this group liked to taunt him. Today was no different.
“Check it out,” one of them heckled. “The fag geek brought a friend with him today. Did this dusty old place get y’all turned on? Bet you want him to fuck you up the ass.”
Toby stared at them, mortified. He swung away, heading for his car. “C’mon, Wyn.”
At the car, he turned and found Wyn had gone over to the four teenagers. Their eyes were a little wide as they stared at his hulking figure. They scrambled
to their feet, each hugging their boards to their chests as they listened to whatever Wyn said. They nodded and backed away.
Apparently finished with them, Wyn joined Toby at the car.
“What did you say to them?” Toby asked.
Wyn shrugged. “Nothing much.”
Toby glanced at the teens. They still looked a bit shell-shocked. He’d said nothing? Yeah right.
Despite Wyn’s high-handed protection, warmth spread over him. He was under the shelter of his knight once more.
Chapter Five
The Levey was on the outskirts of town, halfway between downtown and Grand Riverside College. The area was largely undeveloped but in recent years, restaurants, banks and a few strip malls had started to dot the landscape. Toby liked this area where much of the land was still wild. One of the restaurants he frequented overlooked the Grand River. At the moment, April melting and heavy rains were flooding the river’s banks, but the business was far enough up the bank that it could remain open.
As soon as they were seated in front of the big north-facing windows, Wyn covered Toby’s hand with his. Uncomfortable with the display, Toby slid his hand away then felt like a jerk. He busied himself with the menu. They ordered and made it through half their meal, discussing nothing consequential, before Wyn placed his hand on Toby’s again.
“Don’t,” Toby said again pulling away.
“Have I made you angry?”
“No. We can’t…” He waved his hand as if to indicate everything they couldn’t do. “Not
here.” Wyn sat back, his arm draped over the back of his chair and regarded Toby. His face was full of displeased speculation. “We are not the only gay couple in this room,” he said quietly. “Why are you different? Why can’t you publicly show affection? They are. No one is staring at them.”
Toby looked around. Indeed there were other men who were obviously involved. None were overt about their affections, but they were discretely touching as they dined. Guilt heaped up the guilt he’d already been experiencing. A fear he couldn’t explain to Wyn kept him following suit to the others in the room.
“This is a different world, Tobias. Are we to live like we did in thirteen hundred? Are we to hide who we are, and pretend to be society’s concept of normal? I don’t know that I want to live life with that mask on anymore. I want people to know I love you.”
