by Todd Young
Finn had woken and was lying on his side, looking bewildered and maddeningly beautiful. He rubbed his face, said sorry, and turned away. A moment later he was sleeping again.
In the morning, Angel woke shivering. Finn’s cum had dried on his torso and he spent a few minutes flaking it off.
“I couldn’t really help that.”
“Can you not fucking talk to me? Is that too much to ask?”
Finn shrugged and bowed his head. He was sitting against the wall with his arms around his knees. He cloaked himself with his wings, folding them around his body until he was enveloped. Now all Angel could see was a mass of feathers, gleaming silver-white in the darkness.
He sighed.
It was all so fucking hopeless.
When the boards were removed they lay down in silence, struggling to arrange themselves. The cell was too small for them to do anything other than lay a foot between each other’s thighs. Angel screwed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth, determined to ignore the sensation of Finn’s taut legs as they slithered against his own. It certainly didn’t have to arouse him.
They lay for perhaps an hour, and then the boards dropped over the concourse, sealing them in darkness. They got up and sat on opposite sides of the cell, neither of them speaking. Minutes passed, or Angel guessed so, though he was so used to sitting in silence that time had started to lose its meaning.
They were suddenly startled by Hunter, who approached the cell unannounced. “Today, the jackpot! My lovely Finny!” It was as though he were the ringmaster of a circus. Angel started and struggled to his feet. Hunter was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of jeans.
“You ready, Finn?”
Finn hadn’t moved. He’d sunk his head between his knees and was now sitting quietly.
“You want me to fuck Jase again?”
Silence.
“He didn’t enjoy it much.”
A groan escaped Finn. It was perhaps the most wretched sound Angel had ever heard. Finn beat his fists on his head a couple of times, and then, after sitting motionless for a moment, climbed to his feet. He lifted his chin. “Come on, then. If it’s going to happen, let’s do it.”
Hunter grinned. He hurried to unlock the door and Finn, though Angel knew he couldn’t mean it, walked away with Hunter as though the two of them were friends.
“Fuck!”
“He’s taken Finn?” a small voice said. It was Ben, gripping the bars on the opposite side of the corridor.
Angel nodded.
“That’s not good.”
“No.”
“Aaron says, if he’s with Finn, then maybe …”
“I know.”
He turned away, paced across the cell, and then back to the bars again. He frowned. “You can hear Aaron?”
“Since the last few days — since you two … Finn’s been working on joining us all together.”
“Joining us all together?”
Ben bit his lips and averted his eyes. He glanced at Angel and then away again.
Behind him, Juan was struggling to his feet. “He got the strength from you. When the two of you …”
Angel nodded. “So you’ve all been … together … everyone … but Cole and me?”
“Cole is … he’s … He thought you were dead. Well, we all said it.”
Despondently, Angel nodded. He sighed heavily. It angered him. Finn’s capacity for deception seemed immeasurable. He sank to the floor and laid his head on his arms. His thoughts turned to Finn, who even now he couldn’t help loving, and as he thought of him, he was startled by a sharp, electrifying jolt.
He glimpsed Finn with Hunter. Perhaps five minutes had passed since Finn had left, and now, if what Angel was seeing was right, Hunter had the cattle prod in Finn’s ass. Finn’s thighs were spasming and he had his eyes closed. He was smiling. Unexpectedly, Hunter leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.
Angel’s eyes widened as he watched internally. He wasn’t quite sure if it was real or if it was something he was imagining. Surely, given the burn mark on Jason’s nipple, Hunter couldn’t have actually jammed that thing up Finn’s ass, not unless it had a lower power setting.
Finn would be dead.
Hunter would have ruptured him internally.
Yet, Angel decided, as he was rocked again by a second electric jolt, it did seem to be happening. Finn’s body orgasmed with a sexual convulsion, and with it Angel had the sense of something collapsing in his mind, as though a dam wall had burst or he had had till now some defensive science fiction shield.
With the sensation of his ears popping on a mountain pass, an immense, multi-faceted consciousness ghosted into his awareness. It was as though he could now hear, as though he could now see. Finn had somehow managed it, and they were suddenly flowing with one another in a wide, celestial mind. Beneath it all, he sensed Miriam, a gentle, frail, and yet tenaciously determined feminine presence. Next to Cole, however, for Angel at least, she was inconsequential. He recognized him at once. They twined together, Cole anxious to know where Angel had been. He began to reply, but at that moment the mind buckled and crumbled into vapor, as though a building had imploded.
He shivered in silence, cold and alone.
Hours later, Finn returned to the cell, a faint luminescence emanating from his body.
87
“Did you get the sun?”
Finn nodded.
“Did you speak to her?”
“Yeah, but I think she’s cracked.”
“Cracked?”
“She says she can speak to your mother.”
Angel nodded.
“She told you that?”
“Yeah.”
Finn frowned. “Did you see her?”
Angel shook his head.
“She’s covered in feathers.”
“Covered in them?”
“Not on her face and breasts, but pretty much everywhere else. She doesn’t have any hair on her head — just feathers. It looks like she’s wearing a cloche hat.”
Angel frowned, trying to picture this.
“And she’s blue.”
“Yeah?”
“Really blue.”
“I saw something blue.”
“She’s glimmering. In the darkness.”
He took a breath. “What’s your point, Finn?”
“I don’t know. I don’t trust her. I don’t like girls.”
“You don’t like girls?”
Finn shook his head.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t like them. I wish they didn’t exist, really. They annoy me. I think the world would be a whole lot better off without them.”
“Radically underpopulated, of course, and with fewer trips to the mall.”
Finn chuckled.
Angel paused for a moment. “You can’t really mean it.”
“No, I mean it. I really don’t like them. My mother never did anything for me. Knew the whole deal with my dad and everything. I told her when I was nine. She hit me.”
“Oh, Finn—”
“Don’t, Angel. Don’t start. I don’t want your fucking pity.”
Angel glanced at the corner, chastened. He thought of his own mother and tried to imagine her …
He shook his head.
“She’s probably okay.” Finn stepped toward him. “I mean, I know I have a problem. It’s always like this with women.”
“She sounds like just about the sweetest, kindest, gentlest person I’ve ever spoken to.”
Finn bit his lips. He closed his eyes and nodded, trying to take this in.
“And Finn, she is a couple of centuries old. I think she knows what she’s talking about.”
“She wants me to kill myself.”
“What?”
“She says I have an obligation.”
“What? Why?”
“She felt me — with Hunter. Seems like everyone knows what we did.” He glanced away. “She says I’ve gi
ven him too much strength. Pandering to him was a mistake and he’s genuinely interested in me. He’s changing already, according to her, and if he takes me again …”
Angel was silent.
Finn opened his mouth, closed it again, but then said it anyway. “He’s coming for me tomorrow.”
“Right,” Angel said, barely mouthing the word. Could things get any worse?
“So, I figure, I mean … you could kill me. I’m not going to try and stop you, but if we try again, Angel, and really bind …”
Angel exhaled.
“We could do it tonight.”
He lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at Finn. Could there possibly be a more maddening person in the world? How could Angel love him and hate him and feel sorry for him and be angry at him all in the space of a matter of moments?
“Finn, I …”
“Can you think about it?”
Angel gazed at him unblinking. Eventually, though even the idea of it made him sick, he nodded.
88
“We’re not meant to be together. You know that, don’t you?” It was hours later, and Angel had finally relented. “It didn’t feel right, and it’s not going to feel any better if we do it again.”
“Shit, you’re a wuss. Who cares what it feels like, Angel? Don’t you want out of this nightmare?”
“I’m not in love with you. I mean, you’re not first with me. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Dude, I’m going to smash you in the face if you keep going. You’re not first with me, either.”
Yet Angel knew, given how close they were, that this wasn’t quite the truth. Jase was first, but Finn wished it could’ve been him.
Angel shook his hands nervously. He turned away and then turned back to Finn. Of course he wanted him. The thought he had a legitimate excuse to touch him again was thrilling, though the excitement was being twisted into anxiety by his fear of what had happened last time.
And then there was Cole.
Angel wasn’t going to leave it up to Finn again. If he quested hard enough, if he sought and listened, he was able to reach Cole now. He took a seat in the corner and placed his head in his hands, ignoring Finn. He focused on Cole, bringing to mind both his character and appearance, and a moment later relaxed as Cole flooded into his consciousness like a clear, crystal stream.
Words weren’t quite possible, but he threw a series of images at him, doing his best to show him what had happened with Finn, introducing Miriam, the problem with Hunter, and then going on to ask Cole whether he thought it’d be okay to try it with Finn again.
Cole recoiled, surprised and hurt, only just now grasping that Angel had already betrayed him. He acknowledged the circumstances, but fell into a cold, stony silence, his mind wandering darkly toward a world in which no one was trustworthy. The connection broke, Angel’s last impression that of a resigned Cole who, giving up on him, was just about to give up on the world.
Angel screwed his face up tight.
“You want me to talk to him?”
“Did you listen to that?”
Finn shrugged.
“You know, Finn, if I really had a choice, if I didn’t have to worry about the consequences, I think I’d rather kill you than fuck you.”
Finn closed his eyes and reeled backwards, wounded, Angel supposed, though the fuckhead deserved it. Finn turned away, his back heaved, and the silence was broken by a wretched sob. He fell to his knees and closed his head in a viselike grip. He made a pitiful sound and Angel, unable to help himself, stepped forward.
Tentatively, he laid a hand on Finn’s head.
“You think you can say anything to me? You think I don’t hurt?” Finn rocked forward and cracked his forehead against the flagstones before lifting it and knocking it a second time.
Angel gripped him beneath the arms and hauled him to his feet, his face buried in Finn’s glossy feathers. He groaned, clutched Finn around the waist, and knew he had no choice. He grasped Finn’s cock and squeezed gently, yet there was no reaction.
Finn sniffed, his body relaxing, and Angel figured it’d be okay. Finn was warm and soft and it wasn’t as though they hadn’t done it before. He frowned, thinking of what happened last time, but now that he had him in his arms, he thrust the thought away.
He kissed Finn on the neck and Finn’s body turned to jello. He slipped to the floor and smiled at Angel invitingly, his wings spread crosswise. Angel sank to one knee and leaned over him. He kissed him on the lips and was rocked by an internal sensation comparable to an earthquake. He laid down beside him and they folded together with a rapidity that surprised him. He knew he was in Finn’s arms, ensconced in his wings, but they were soon somehow tangled together and twisting into one another.
“Oh, fuck!” Angel said.
His skin ran warm and liquid as their bones began to grate. Finn smiled inwardly, pleased to be getting what he finally wanted, and Angel, unable to entirely disconnect himself from Finn’s thoughts, couldn’t help smiling along with him. He recognized Finn’s courage again, his strength, and with it came love, surprising Angel, because it hadn’t occurred to him that the guy loved him this deeply. They slipped a little closer, and he was able to see Finn welcoming aspects of his personality, his kindness and generosity, which was a lifeline for Finn. Angel couldn’t help feeling touched, and as he relaxed a little, he was aware of gradually sinking into Finn as though his body were a suit he were trying on. Then something inexplicable happened, a sudden twisting and turning and molding of skin and bones that not only disturbed him, but was painful.
At the end of it, he was left panting and wincing on his back, though as he caught his breath, he tumbled to the conclusion that he was no longer himself or Finn, but somehow now an amalgam of both.
They stumbled to their feet and stood, their wings brushing the grid. They were perhaps eight feet tall, the raw power in their superhuman body exhilarating. They flexed a hand, staring at it and at the corded muscles in their forearm.
This was … okay. It was shaky, but it was just about working.
They glanced down. Their abs had been sculpted into a tight, rocklike formation, their thighs swollen with muscle. They were frighteningly powerful, their skin thick and fleshy. Yet there was obviously something wrong here, with their groin. It had altered so naturally they frowned before understanding. Where there had previously been genitals, and once even hair, there was now a blank, a mound of smooth, hairless flesh. Apparently angels, at least angels in this state, didn’t have genitals. It was strangely fascinating, and also enticing, the oddest thing a bizarre sensual tickle that might yet contain the potential for climax.
“Hell,” they whispered in wonder, and then laughed.
“You’re an angelic majesty,” Miriam unexpectedly said. Her voice, though she’d never spoken before, rose so calmly and naturally into their mind they apprehended her immediately. She’d been with them for months, since back before the institute, since even before they’d met one another. All that time she’d been pushing, guiding them gently, somehow able to glimpse snippets of a possible future while she ushered them toward it. She opened herself now and they acknowledged her, the torment and loneliness of her life crystalized into a beauty so sensitive it looked painful. She was a seer, an architect of minds, they gleaned, and she inclined her head, acknowledging them.
A feeble light began to shine, flooding the cell, and with it came warmth. They lifted their hands in wonder and stared at the blaze of crystalline light streaming from their skin as the cell grew steadily brighter.
“What the—?” Ben said from the other side of the corridor. They turned to him. He glimpsed their body, the size of it, and froze, his eyes locked on their face. He took a step backward, into the shadows, but the dazzle of light bloomed brighter and soon both him and Juan were lit like hunted prey.
“Who is that?” Juan said, shielding his eyes.
They didn’t know how to answer. “It’s … I’m … We’re …” but the
y weren’t quite one. It wasn’t precisely right. Their minds kept stretching apart and stuttering back together again. It was painful. Each time Angel recognized himself, he struggled to pull away, but as he collapsed back into Finn he seemed to be recurrently losing his grip, his grip not only on a sense of who he was now, but on who he had ever been.
“It’ll work,” Finn somehow uttered. He now seemed to have control of the mouth now.
“What’ll work?” Juan and Ben had stepped forward. They didn’t look quite so frightened. Still, they were staring at what Angel and Finn had become with wide eyes.
Finn decided to cross the cell and Angel crossed with him, feeling as though he was trapped in a nightmare, a mind in a body he didn’t control. Finn gripped the bars and strained. He paused, folded his shoulders inward, and strained harder.
Incredibly, the bars began to bend, groaning and screeching.
Angel thrashed. He shrieked inwardly and struggled to gain control again of his mind again, but Finn was dominating, suffocating him. It was as if he were slipping beneath the surface of a choppy sea, as if his lungs were already filled with water.
He panicked.
With one almighty effort he yanked away. They crashed apart in an explosion of light and feathers, flung to opposite sides of the cell. Angel hit his head and lay half-conscious, glad it was over.
How had he ever let Finn talk him into that?
89
I saw you, Cole said.
What?
I saw you and Finn together, Jason and I. We were watching.
It was night, not late, but Finn was already sleeping. Angel held him loosely, stroking his fair hair. Cole … he began.
It’s all right. I understand. I get it.
Angel nodded.
It was only a few hours later, but Cole had been growing steadily closer since the binding. They all had. Whatever Finn and Angel had done, it had rocked the psychology of this place to its core. They were safe now, or it seemed that way, all of them winding into a single, angelic mind. The only problem was Hunter. Every now and then Angel would startle as a dark tendril of his character whorled into their awareness and threatened to expose them. Whenever he appeared, a collective recoiling fled from him. Nevertheless, Angel guessed he must be suspicious.
