Flesh Market

by Kate Lowell

  Leo whispered in his ear. “That’s it. Let yourself go. I’ve got you.” Then his fingers closed between them, and the tightening coil of desire became unendurable. Julian came with a hoarse cry that scratched his throat raw. The world came back to him slowly, awareness spreading out from his body to Leo’s and then to the bed beneath them and the room around them. Leo was still hard, but his hand remained motionless around their cocks.

  “Let me,” Julian said in a graveled tone. He pushed Leo’s hand out of the way and laid the length of him along his palm. “Oh.” Julian loved the feel of him—hot, slick with lotion, and sticky with the results of Julian’s orgasm. Julian slid his hand up and down, repeating all the things he knew pleased him, trying new tricks to see what else might make him cry out.

  Leo pressed his forehead to Julian’s hair. His eyes were closed, but his lips were parted slightly, his breath coming harsh between them. “Oh, God, Julian.” He tangled his fingers in the hair at Julian’s nape and groaned.

  Julian smiled and closed his eyes, listening with his body to the silent messages of Leo’s. He closed his hand tighter around Leo’s cock and moved it faster, playing with the man until Leo yelled and rolled over on top of him, thrusting wildly against Julian’s stomach until wet heat blossomed between them. Julian stroked the back of his head, his neck, over his shoulders. He felt clean now, almost. But for the last wound marring his heart.

  Leo rolled off him and gathered him up in his arms with a lazy chuckle. Julian waited for him to say something, but he simply lay there, his body quiet next to Julian’s. He thought Leo had fallen asleep, until the man said in a quiet voice, “Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Whatever it is that’s still riding you.” Leo lifted his head to meet Julian’s eyes. “I can feel it inside you, like a rubber band on the verge of snapping. I’d rather see you unwind on me than snap.” He put his hand under Julian’s chin and lifted his mouth for a kiss.

  When the kiss ended, Julian stared up at him. Before he could second-guess himself, the words flew out of his mouth. “I think they’ve had Shiro for a long time, because he didn’t feel the same as Lucas or the others. Like he’d never known anything different. Like that was normal. And there I was, enabling the perverted bastard that owned him.” He closed his eyes, afraid to see the expression on Leo’s face. Terrified of what he himself might do or say. “The whole time, we’re doing…”

  The words caught in his throat, so he pushed past them, though it hurt to make the sounds. He needed Leo to understand why finding Shiro was so important. “He was like a…a mentor. Trying to make sure I would make his owner happy. And he was so sad the whole time he did it.” The things Shiro had told him… He opened his eyes again and desperately begged strength from Leo’s. “When they get too old, if their owner gets mad enough at them, they use them as bait in a dog pit. They feed them to dogs, Leo, just because they aren’t young enough anymore.” The sobs tore out of him, and he wasn’t even aware of Leo folding him into his arms until he tried to wipe his eyes and found his path blocked by Leo’s chest.

  At some point the tears finally slowed enough that Julian could see more than a blur when he looked around the room. He separated himself from Leo reluctantly, wiping at his cheeks and avoiding Leo’s eyes.

  Leo got up, went to the bathroom, and came back with a pair of damp facecloths. Wordlessly he held one out and watched while Julian cleaned the salt and snot off his face. Then Leo took the cloth he held and cleaned the sweat and semen from their bodies. He laid the cloth aside and made Julian face him. “I promise you, I won’t stop looking. We might even have his information now. I won’t willingly leave him there.” He ran the backs of his fingers down Julian’s cheek and smiled at him. “Trust me?”

  Julian nodded and tossed the cloth in the general direction of the bathroom door. He believed Leo, but he wasn’t so sure that he believed the FBI anymore. To hide his uncertainty, he stood up and wrapped his arms around Leo’s neck. “Let’s not talk anymore, okay?” Then he pulled Leo down to the bed and hid his insecurities against his partner’s solid warmth.

  Penance

  The alarm on Leo’s phone went off, and he jerked awake. Fuck. What did that make, less than four hours of sleep? He hoped this would be the last night he was shorted, or he was going to start sleepwalking at work. Then he remembered why he was so short of sleep. He rolled over, careful not to shake the bed in case it woke Julian up.

  The other side of the bed was empty.

  He lay still and listened for the sound of someone in the bathroom, but the room was silent except for the hrush of the air-conditioning and the never-ending traffic on the street outside. Leo rolled out of bed, pulled on yesterday’s clothing, and noted that Julian’s were gone. He grabbed his key card and walked down the hall to the room Julian had been in yesterday. No one answered, though he knocked several times and called Julian’s name with increasing unease.

  Where are you?

  The elevator whooshed open at the end of the hall, and Leo stared, debating. Then he sprinted for it, getting there just in time to jam his hand into the near-closed door and force it to open again. He hit the button for the lobby and waited, bouncing a little in place to take the edge off his worry.

  At the front desk, he asked, “Did you move Julian Fitzroy to another room yesterday? I need to talk to him.” Yeah, he needed to figure out what Julian felt. The emotion last night had seemed very real and very honest. He’d truly expected that Julian would be there the next morning, and Leo had planned to ask if he could see him again afterward.

  The woman behind the desk tapped a few keys on her computer. “It looks like Mr. Fitzroy checked out this morning.”

  “Checked out?” Leo was stunned. That Julian would leave without saying anything to him was absurd. There was more between them than that. He’d thought so. “What time?”

  “At seven this morning.”

  “I see. Thank you.” He passed her ten dollars and turned away from the desk in a daze. Maybe there hadn’t been that much. Maybe Julian couldn’t separate the things that had happened to him from the man who’d been there through it all. Maybe he couldn’t forgive the man who’d let those things happen to him.

  No wonder he’d left.

  Movement in the corner of his eye grabbed Leo’s attention. Harrow, coming out of the hallway that led to the hotel’s conference rooms.

  “Harrow.” It was nearly a bellow, making the woman at the desk jump. “I want to talk to you.”

  Harrow paused and eyed Leo, sizing him up. “Yeah, I figured. Come up to my room. I have twenty minutes.”

  Leo followed him, almost steaming in his anger.

  Harrow opened his door and gestured Leo inside. “You want to talk about Julian,” he said as he closed the door.

  “You’re damn right I want to talk about Julian. Where do you get off sending a civilian into a situation like that? And why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Have you eaten? I’m going to call room service.” Harrow flipped open the mini phonebook on the desk and picked up the phone’s receiver.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Don’t sulk, Leo. Steak and eggs all right?”

  “Bert…”

  Harrow turned back to Leo. “I’m going to answer your questions. But breakfast is the only time I have free. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to order.” He turned back to the phone, checked the phone book again, and punched a few keys on the number pad.

  Leo wandered over to look out the window, stubbornly ignoring Harrow as he ordered breakfast for the two of them.

  Harrow put the phone down and came to stand beside Leo. “Glad I don’t work here. Place makes me feel dirty. Or maybe that’s the case.”

  “You should feel dirty.” Leo glared at him. “You sent a civilian into an undercover operation. I signed up for that kind of stuff; he didn’t.”

  “He wants to be an agent. We talked extensively before he went in.” Harrow tur
ned away from the window. “I had no good candidates. My best bet was a fifty-fifty chance. Are you telling me you think he did a bad job?”

  Leo swallowed and shook his head. “No. He was spectacular. Focused, determined, shook off the bad things and learned from them.”

  “But you’re still angry.”

  “It wasn’t right.”

  “It was necessary. He wasn’t bullied; he wasn’t forced into it. Sure, I sweetened the pot. I’m not a complete ass—if he’s going to take on a role like that, there needed to be compensation. I couldn’t pay him extra, but I’m calling in every favor I’m owed to hold him a seat in the next class.”

  “It wasn’t a role for a kid fresh off the street. He didn’t have a clue what was coming at him.”

  “It was what made it work. And what would you have done if I hadn’t?”

  That brought Leo’s argument to a screeching halt. What would he have done? He couldn’t have stood still for any of the things that happened to Julian if it had really been a fifteen-year-old. There was no way DeGraff was going to let a kid sit on his ass and not earn. He turned back to the window and stared unseeing at the traffic rolling by beneath them.

  “You know, Julian said you were great. He said he never felt in danger.”

  “He’s lying.”

  “Does he strike you as a liar?”

  Leo walked away from the window. He was too angry, too frustrated, too—he didn’t know what emotion was choking him, but any words he might have used were balled up in his throat, cutting off his air.

  Harrow spoke behind him. “Julian told me it was his choice to go as far as you did. That you offered on several occasions to close down the operation and that he refused to allow you to do that.”

  “I only agreed because I thought he was a trained agent.”

  “And that’s on me. But I couldn’t afford you being careful of him, and neither could you. If they’d gotten suspicious, I would have been down one special agent and one civilian ‘agent.’ It was a small price to pay for the safety it offered.”

  Damn. Leo hated it, but Harrow was probably right. If he’d known… “Where is he?”

  “He’s gone home.” Harrow put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. It felt oddly comforting. “Give him some space, okay? He’s got some things to deal with, and I don’t think he’s told me everything that happened. We’ve set up some therapy for him, and hopefully he’ll feel able to fill in those details afterward. But I’m going to ask you to let him be for a while.”

  It wasn’t really asking. The tone made it an order from his supervising agent. Again—Harrow was right. No matter what Julian said, Leo had been the agent in charge, and Julian hadn’t even been an agent at all. It was Leo’s job to be well informed, and he’d blown it. So, yeah. Julian slipping out quietly in the night wasn’t surprising. It hurt, but Leo hadn’t asked the right questions and had fucked up royally, and Julian had been hurt because of it. If Julian didn’t want to see him, then he’d let him be. He had incredible potential as an agent, and Leo thought there had been something more between them, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Julian never wanted to see any of them again.

  Leo turned around to face Harrow. “So when’s that breakfast arriving?”

  Home

  Julian paid off his taxi and walked up to the door of his apartment building, fishing in his bag for his keys.

  Which were in the apartment, where he left them.

  “Fuck.” He didn’t say it with heat, just an acknowledgment that something else had gone wrong. Julian laughed at himself and pressed the buzzer for their apartment.

  A few seconds later, the speaker crackled. “Who is it?” Dave’s voice.

  “It’s me. Let me in.”

  The lock buzzed, and Julian yanked on the handle, suddenly desperate to get home.

  “Julian?”

  He paused and peered upward.

  Dave hung over the railing of their landing, staring at him with anxious eyes. Then he disappeared, and Julian heard him thunder down the stairs until he practically tackled Julian, wrapping him in a full-body hug. “Are you okay? You look like shit.”

  “Thanks.” Julian disentangled himself from his friend and smiled at him. “Can we go up?”

  “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Are you hungry?”

  “More tired than anything. I ate at the airport.”

  “I’m sure that was healthy.”

  “Tasty, anyway.” He let Dave hold the door open for him and then…oh, God, he’d forgotten what a nice apartment they had. It had walls and windows, and the mattresses weren’t on the floor and didn’t smell of sweat and piss and somebody’s cum. With a bathroom where he could go in and close the door and be by himself… He dropped his bag and was halfway naked, already inside, before Dave could close the front door and cross the living room behind him. “I’m going to grab a quick shower,” he shouted, trying to turn on the tap with one hand while he undid the fastening of his jeans with the other. He wondered if he’d ever feel clean again.

  “Let me get that.” Dave leaned around him and started fiddling with the taps. “Are you all right?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  “Not entirely.” Julian’s jeans hit the floor with a thump. “Can we talk about it after?” He stepped into the shower, wincing at the heat.

  “Sure. Over coffee?”

  Julian wiped the water off his face. “Yeah, okay.” Dave’s face was neutral—it was where Julian had learned to pull a blank face on the world. For Julian, it was a way of keeping his thoughts to himself, but when Dave wore that expression, it meant he was doing his shrink thing. Well, that might not be bad. Julian knew he was going to have to talk to the bureau psychologist about the operation, but some things it might be easier to keep just between him and Dave.

  After his shower, he found Dave on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, checking the news on his tablet. Two mugs filled to the brim with coffee sat next to him on the wooden crate they used as an end table.

  “You sure you don’t want any lunch? There’s croissants in the cupboard and ham in the fridge.”

  “No, I’m good.” Julian grabbed his coffee cup and sat, then pulled the blanket that usually hid the worn upholstery into his lap like he was four and needed a blankie. He stopped to breathe in the smell of the coffee, the scent waking up brain cells that were worn out with thinking and overthinking. A sip, and the world started to right itself.

  Maybe it was all caffeine withdrawal.

  Not likely.

  He peered up at Dave, hiding behind his bangs, trying to decipher his roommate’s expression. Dave watched him back, wearing a nonthreatening smile, his body language open and welcoming. Exactly how a man planning to be a psychiatrist should look when faced with a lunatic, which was how Julian felt about himself right now. “Do you have to be at work today?”

  “Not till five. I’ve got time.”

  It was nearly four now. “This might take more than that.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Julian took a sip of his coffee and let the warm liquid roll around his mouth for a bit before he swallowed. Easy stuff first, though easy was a relative term. “I did something really stupid while I was gone. Well, a few things, but this one has to be the dumb thing to end all dumb things.”

  “And what was that?”

  Here goes. “I fell for my partner. Not only that, but I acted like the fifteen-year-old I was pretending to be and slept with him.” He paused for another mouthful of coffee. “I’d do it again too. Guy’s awesome, in bed and out.” There, he’d said it. “I know—it’s the adrenaline and the stress and all that. But he reminded me of Lyle, or what Lyle might be in twenty years, you know?” His ex had been kind and loving, but just as goal-oriented as Julian, the two of them burning with the magnesium flares of their enthusiasms. In the end, those fires had charcoaled what might have been of their relationship, and they parted on more-or-less amicable terms. “Like I said, dumb.”

  Dave sat, thoughtful,
for a minute. “So he’s older than you?”

  “He says he’s thirty-seven.” What did that have to do with anything?

  Then he said something that shocked Julian. “You’ve always been a good judge of character. If you say this guy was like Lyle, I believe you. And maybe you need someone like Lyle, with some of that ambition already met, so you’re not pulling on each other all the time. Someone who’ll understand you when you get all obsessive about something. You tend to overwhelm your boyfriends, you know.”

  “I do?”

  Dave nodded. “Maybe a May-December thing is what you need.”

  “He’s not that old,” Julian snapped, insulted on Leo’s behalf. “He’s just right. I’m not bothered about how old he is.”

  Dave smiled at Julian. “So what is bothering you?”

  “I made an ass of myself last night, and I think I fucked it up.”

  “How?”

  “I yelled at him, and I hit him. Then fucked him and disappeared in the morning before he woke up, because I’m a coward.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I was…upset. I was angry because of someone we couldn’t save, someone it was impossible to save.”

  “You hate losing.”

  “Oh, go to hell. This is someone’s life we’re talking about.”

  “I can see you took it very seriously.”

  He could hear the future psychiatrist in Dave’s voice. It set off a small flare of irritation, but this was why he’d agreed to sit down with his best friend, right? And with that, the flare died. “I did,” he said in a small voice. “It was so wrong.”

  “And you think he was responsible for that.”