Date: Fri, 7 Aug 2015 03:16:52 +0800
From: Ben Chen <benwritesstuff@gmail.com>
Subject: Covert Forces - Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real-life
events or people is entirely coincidental.

Please do not copy or distribute this story without the author's prior
consent.

If you have anything against gay men with powers, sexual content, violence,
gore, or swearing, then this story won't be for you.

A/N: Last chapter was a short one, introducing our first 2 main characters,
and giving you a brief glimpse of their personalities before plunging them
right into a violent, life-changing event. When we last left the boys, they
were in a standoff with a mysterious new character, who's appeared right
after their assailants died horribly. This chapter will see less action and
(a lot) more introspection, as Alex and Vic come to terms with what's
happened, and are forced to decide what they must do next.

Covert Forces

Chapter 2 - set to I Want to Hold Your Hand by The Beatles
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipADNlW7yBM

It had all been going so well.

Just a few minutes ago, Alex was conversing with a wonderfully handsome,
charming man, and he could feel the limitless possibilities that were
developing between them. Vic may have complicated matters with the whole
'being foreign' business, but Alex knew that this was someone he wanted in
his life, in one capacity or another.

Now, he stood beside Vic in a ruined bar littered with bodies, confronted
by yet another newcomer who looked like he was dressed to kill, and was
certainly equipped to do so. He was an Indian man of their age, clad in a
sleek white track suit jacket and red T-shirt, paired with an oversized
belt, deliciously tight skinny jeans and black Nike high-tops. The only
thing that gave him away was the outline of a Beretta 950 he'd hastily
stuffed into a jean pocket. Rather inappropriately, Alex couldn't help but
think that this dude was quite the looker too.

"Listen, I know you're still shaken by what's happened, but I promise I can
help you," the newcomer stated calmly, his hands in the air as an
indication of peace. His eyes were a piercing shade of dark olive, with his
plush pair of lips resting on an otherwise slim and angular face, framed by
short black wavy hair and stubble along his jaw, all of which softened a
kind but serious look. "Will you trust me?"

"First, you get us the hell outta here. Then, we talk. I don't know who you
are, mate, but you have a lot of explaining to do." The jokey, charismatic
Vic was gone; his voice now sonorous and commanding despite his trembling
lips, his eyes lowered and sharp. It was a drastic transformation that both
impressed and shocked Alex.

Their new acquaintance simply nodded in understanding. "OK, follow me. We
have to be quick." The trio quickly shuffled through the back door into a
narrow alleyway, and the stranger proceeded to fiddle with his phone. "What
are you doing? You better not be calling the cops," Vic snarled, which
caused the other party to look mildly annoyed. "No, I'm pinging my
associates to come here and do some clean-up. Oh, and erase signs of your
existence from any surveillance. By the way, do both of you remember when
you went into the bar?"

"Around 8:30pm," Alex offered. "I remember checking my phone just before I
entered." "Then I went in about 5 minutes before that," said Vic after
thinking for a bit. "Does that help?"

"Indeed, thank you gentlemen. OK, message sent," the stranger
declared. "Sorry guys, let's keep moving." Thankfully, it was a short walk
to a relatively quiet side street, where they approached a dusty Toyota
Camry which was quickly unlocked. "I'm going to drive you all a safe
distance away from here, then you can make your way back by public
transport. Is that fine with both of you?"

"There isn't another way, yes?" Vic shrugged. Alex thought he'd better try
and defrost the situation a bit. He was as suspicious of this newcomer as
Vic was, but someone needed to be the good cop. "Please do, and thanks," he
requested politely. "Preferably in another borough." The group rode in
complete silence, past wailing sirens and flashes of red and blue
lights. There was a silent fear present, that the car would be pulled over
and everything would go downhill from there. Thankfully, this did not
happen, and the police cars thinned the further they went.

Throughout the journey, Alex's gaze was focused on Vic, with whom he was
making eye contact. They could feel their mutual confusion and dread, as
well as the awkwardness of a third party's presence, which further added to
how draggy the ride felt. Alex felt an oppressive weight in his head, the
suppression of unspoken thoughts and an obstinate attempt at normalising
the situation. A determination to act as if nothing extraordinary happened
in the bar, that something surreal was not irreversibly unleashed.

It seemed like eternity, and the occasionally nerve-wrecking slow traffic
certainly didn't help, but they were eventually in the vicinity of Queens
Plaza. The car pulled into yet another quiet spot, and its driver turned to
face them. Again, his look was calm but serious, and his voice
mellifluous. "Before I let you guys go, I need to tell you something."

"Well, it's about damn time," Vic fumed. "You couldn't have told us what
the fuck was going on, during this long drive?" Alex gave him a warning
stare. "Calm down, man. I'm sure our friend here meant well. Probably
wanted to give us some down time, and gather our wits."

"That's partially it. I also don't want to overcomplicate things, so just
listen to me for a minute, alright?" Their acquaintance's expression
wavered with a slight uncertainty, and he took a deep breath before
continuing. "Something horrible happened back at the bar just now, and I
wasn't able to stop it in time. But I have a feeling that both of you did."
Vic was about to open his mouth again, but the fellow quickly continued his
speech. "No, you don't have to explain anything. It's clear that whatever
went on was beyond the usual rules of science.  You may be surprised to
hear, though, that your case isn't unprecedented."

"OK, correct me if I'm getting this wrong." Alex's eyes narrowed with
disbelief as he couldn't hold back his rant. "So you're saying there are
others out there who can do weird, supernatural shit. And somehow, you
think we fall into that same category?  Look, you can pitch this idea to
Fox for their new X-Men movie, but it's otherwise preposterous. All we did
is survive a shooting, and frankly? That's more intrigue than we need for
the rest of the year." He wasn't sure if he totally believed what he was
saying, but he desperately wanted to.

The stranger remained unruffled. "The facts are these, though. 2 unarmed
men somehow survive an onslaught of bullets, and their attackers even die
in the process. Even if you don't believe me, at least ask yourself this:
what are the odds that everything happened as it did, without other
variables in play? Do you yourself believe this was a coincidence?"

Satisfied with the ensuing silence, he continued. "Here's my offer. The way
I see it, you have 2 choices. You can choose to ignore what happened today,
and we all pretend you weren't at the bar. That's alright, I know if
someone just told me what I said to you, I would still be skeptical. Maybe
I don't want to get myself into a huge mess, or some weird conspiracy I'm
not even sure exists. The other option I want to propose, is that we have a
more in-depth chat, and I fill you in with what I know. Trust me or
otherwise, the resources are there to help you better understand what's
going on. If I am correct, this is just the beginning of what you can
achieve, and you can develop that potential - maybe point it in the right
direction, but we can talk about that later."

"Let's stick with 'later'," Vic offered. His eyes were still angry, but his
expression had relaxed, and it was clear he was giving the idea some
consideration.

"My honest thoughts are that you can't run away from this. We can leave you
two alone, but chances are that someone else will come knocking. And it'd
be an engagement you'll like even less." A calling card out was fished out
of the glove compartment, and placed in Alex's palm. "Call this number if
you're in - password's 'Godot'. If you're not, destroy the card. Don't let
anyone else get their hands on it." It was a plain card with a printed
contact number, nothing else. "Alright, I've said enough. Have a safe
journey home, fellows."

"Thanks for getting us out," said Alex with a polite smile, and he quickly
clambered out of the car in relief. He did not want to spend another second
in the vehicle. Vic was about to follow suit, before he spoke up as
well. "Look, I'm still not sure about all this, and frankly you're fishy as
hell, but you did help so thanks for that. Sorry if I got lippy, it's not
every day my life becomes a Fringe episode."

A slight smirk appeared on the other party's face. "Don't worry, I
understand. Anyway, give it some thought." He was soon gone, and Vic and
Alex were left standing around in a light drizzle, looking at each other
and utterly tongue-tied for seconds.

"So, uh, I guess we really need to talk," Vic sputtered. It was the
understatement of the decade.

"No shit we do," Alex murmured wryly, his face weary and muted. "We should
do it somewhere private, though. How about my place? Or do you want to use
your hotel room instead?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you could host me for the rest of trip," Vic
replied sheepishly. "I don't want to be trouble, but... It doesn't feel
great staying by myself, after what's happened today."

"I was thinking the same, actually," Alex grinned. It wasn't a feeling of
lust or outright happiness, but simple relief that he had
companionship. "Let's go pick up your stuff, and then we can get settled."
It was then another hour or so before they finally found themselves in the
Upper East Side where Alex lived, with Vic teasing him about its
association with trashy TV shows. "It's actually cheaper than the hipster
bits of New York, though," Alex protested to no avail. The little bits of
jokey conversation they made helped ease the bubbling tension, for the
commute was otherwise silent.

The apartment was not particularly big, but comfortable enough and nicely
furnished. "Let me pour you a drink," Alex offered. "Any preferences?"

"Something strong, please and thank you," Vic sighed as he sank into the
plush sofa. "Man, I still can't believe you called this place a 'humble
abode'. Such bullshit."

"It's just a saying," Alex teased, setting down two glasses of whiskey on
the rocks. Vic grabbed one glass and took a huge mouthful. "Ah! I really
needed this."

"Tell me about it," agreed Alex, who sat down next to Vic and took a
slightly smaller sip. The whiskey's intense malt sweetness and burn was
doing wonders for his nerves. "Okay, time for serious business. We have
these 2 nuts shooting up the bar, and we try to run. By all odds, we
shouldn't be standing, given how efficient they were with their shots. But
then, a number of things happen, and these guys end up dying instead."

He furrowed his brow, going through the events in his head again. "First,
they miss 2 shots. OK, we were running and all, but they were not wasting
any ammo before that. Second, one of them trips as he is about to fire, his
hands twist, and he shoots his partner instead. Again, super weird, but
it's something that could still happen in the heat of battle. And then,
when he's about to get up and shoot us, he starts coughing..." His voice
trailed off, not wanting to continue.

"That works out to be 2 events which are plausible but improbable," Vic
noted, taking another drink from his whiskey. "And 1 which should just not
happen. Alex - you were staring at the man before he started coughing and
all. I tried to pull you towards the door, but you were in this funny daze,
and you said to wait. Do you remember that?"

"Vaguely," Alex sighed, his head hung low in regret. He didn't want to talk
about it, but Vic was right. "Like I told you back there, it was this
feeling in my head. I knew we had to stop him. I just knew - I could do
something about it. I had a fleeting memory, thinking about the most
dangerous thing that I could recall. It's like there's this clacking noise
in my head, and things fell into place. God, I can't remember what it was,
but I didn't want to kill anyone." His body trembled with misery, causing
Vic to put a strong arm around him in comfort. Alex felt his unconditional
support and understanding, the velvety touch that he possessed despite his
taut muscles. "Sorry, I'm not usually this weak," he smiled feebly, "I
swear."

"Alex," Vic was looking intently at him, those gorgeous features radiating
concern and sympathy, but not condescending pity. "You're far stronger than
I'd be in your shoes. Give yourself a little credit bruv. Besides, fuckers
wanted us dead - it would suck if you kicked the bucket."

"Smooth, Vic," Alex laughed, feeling a little less edgy now. He put his arm
around Vic's firm back, as a reciprocative sign of appreciation. "I feel
the same about you." Vic's eyes glistened with a kiddy joy as he pressed
himself further against Alex, tightening their cuddle. "Alex, I must say
this: I don't think you should shoulder the guilt alone. You know that
'clack' sound you felt in your mind? The same thing happened to me. In
fact, it was just before those thugs fired at us and missed. As you said -
there's a certain knowledge in your head. In my case, I just thought it'd
be great to get the bullets out of the way. The second time, the tripping
thing, I knew it'd happen as well. It could be intuition, but then again,
these are plausible but improbable things happening."

Alex nodded, feeling a little less like a freak now. "Right, intuition
tells you that something will happen, but these are still low-probability
events which occurred."

"Yeah, seems like we have some ideas about what we can do. We can probably
narrow it further from 'have weird shit happen around me' and 'kill someone
horribly with a thought', but honestly? I just want to stop thinking about
it for now. I'm deathly afraid of causing strange phenomena, in any case."

"Me too," Alex murmured, gently rubbing Vic's right shoulder with his
fingers. "How about this? Tomorrow, we just spend the day out. None of this
nonsense. You're here to see New York, after all. Then, maybe we can think
about it afterwards."

"I like the cut of your jib," Vic flashed a blinding grin despite his
exhaustion, and Alex felt his heart race. "I'll go get changed and crash on
your sofa."

"You don't have to sleep on the sofa, y'know," Alex offered, which caused
Vic to waggle his eyebrows. "Oh, you're in the mood for something?"

"Nope, sweetheart," Alex rolled his eyes. "Don't even think about it." Vic
laughed and stood up, giving Alex one last firm rub on his right
shoulder. "Seriously, though. Thank you, Alex." Vic looked the happiest
he'd been in hours.

"Don't worry about it. Now go freshen up." Alex watched Vic retreat into
the bathroom, sighing to himself while admiring his new friend's solid back
and impressive ass.  He couldn't help it because Vic just looked so damn
good, although he was in no condition to act on any impulses. Was it
inappropriate to be lusty after killing someone, anyway? He polished off
the rest of the whiskey while waiting his turn, trying to relax himself and
clear his head of the day's many distractions. Each sip was savoured
slowly, trickling down his throat with a smouldering sensation, feeling
like it burnt away at his troubles.

Before he knew it, he heard the bathroom door open with a click. His head
turned instinctively, rewarding him with the sight of Vic in his
sleepwear. Vic's tall, sculpted frame was clad in a tight white tee, which
showed off his arms and contrasted beautifully against his dark chocolate
skin. A pair of black boxers clung tightly to his muscled thighs, not even
bothering to hide a sizeable bulge that lay dormant. That
dimple-accentuating smile was on his chiseled face again, propping up a
Greek nose and surrounded by a light dusting of stubble. And his dark brown
eyes were big, soulful and contemplative, probing Alex with mild amusement,
gleaming like his shaved head did under the white bathroom
lightning. "Mate, I'm very flattered right now," Vic teased Alex, who
wasn't even hiding his gawking. "But please don't do this."

"You'll get to stare later," Alex smirked.

"Wait, what makes you think I'll want to look?"

"Then don't," retorted Alex. "I must remind you, though, that you
approached me today." Before Vic could get the last word in, he slammed the
door shut and quickly stripped to shower. He just wanted to get into bed
and end this stupid day. Vic lying next to him was also a very nice bonus.

Vic uttered a wolf whistle when Alex emerged, which made him blush a
little. "Alright, I get it. That was rude."

"You're forgiven," Vic grinned insolently. "Come on over."

"In case we're forgetting something here, this is my bed."

"Yeah, but I get equal rights when I'm staying over, right? Anyway, I shall
very kindly give you room." Vic scooted over onto the other side of the
bed, giving Alex space to jump in. Their hands touched under the covers,
and a soothing warmth tingled up their arms, into their hearts and
minds. Although they were 2 very attractive men sharing a bed, they knew
that nothing was going to happen. Not today, at least. Right now, they just
needed each other, a reassurance that their world hadn't gone totally off
kilter. They were gazing into each others' eyes, wordlessly exchanging
looks of content and gratitude, swearing to recover their energies and face
the next day together.

"We should turn in early," Vic whispered in his sexy voice. "Good night,
Alex. Thanks again for everything."

"No," Alex smiled. "Thank you, Vic. G'night." Vic was out quickly, and the
sight of his peaceful face lifted Alex's spirits, calming him enough to
fall asleep too. His last thoughts as he slumbered were not about the
bloody violence or his strange abilities, but making his day out with Vic a
good one.

***

Vic wasn't much of a dreamer, but a very vivid scenario played out in his
head that night. it was still set in Alex's apartment, which was now
cluttered with his belongings as well. His body leaned snugly against
Alex's, and the blonde stud was gently caressing his hand. "Vic, I think we
might need a larger apartment. It's kind of squeezy when the gang's in
here."

Vic could feel the words coming from his dream self, even if he had no
control over it. "You're right, I don't think the living's room supposed to
fit 6. Although I see it as being 'cosy' instead, since this place holds a
lot of memories. Not just for me; for us."  There was a fond look on Vic's
face as his gaze swept across the room.

"Hmm, what if we get to put a king-sized bed in the new place?"

"That's the game changer right there," Vic smirked. "I'll hold you to it."

"Oh, definitely." Alex agreed. "And we should find a building with enough
spare apartments. Then we can get everyone living in the same compound,
which makes it easier to hang out and strategise."

"Sounds good!" Vic was grinning at Alex, his approval obvious. "My only
concern would be our enemies finding out we're all in the same place. I
think we've done a good job concealing our tracks, though. We could float
the idea tomorrow, see what the lads think of it."

"Alright, I guess that's settled at least. Thanks hun, you always back me
up." Alex gave Vic an appreciative peck on the cheek. "Oh, is that all I
get?" Vic complained with mock indignance.

"That was just a teaser," Alex smiled, and he suddenly forced his lips
against Vic's, crushing his mouth and twisting with as much force as he
could. That cheeky slag! Vic was slightly taken aback, but his tongue
quickly recovered, wrestling for dominance against Alex's. It was sloppy,
rough and boner-inducing. Alex grabbed Vic's shirt collar, pulling him
closer and not letting go, their bodies squeezing against each other. With
the might in his powerful body, Vic shoved Alex against the couch, their
breathing heavy and eyes lusty-

A noise from the real world rang in Vic's ears, jolting him awake with a
start; he realised dully that it was a notification from his phone. The
room was filled with bright rays of sunlight, and his body pressed very
comfortably against Alex's. In particular, his hardon was resting snugly in
the crevice of Alex's muscular behind. "Bloody hell!" he swore under his
breath, his head throbbing with a dull ache. He gently eased himself from
his sleeping companion; not that he wasn't enjoying himself, but it'd be
awkward if Alex awoke to getting dry-humped.

God, what was going on? Vic felt like his life was being turned on its
head. Alex was wreaking havoc on his defenses, and it'd only been 12 hours
or so since he'd known the guy. What he'd intended to be a short fling or
one-night stand was more complicated than he wished for. Granted, the
circumstances were so unusual, he couldn't tell what was going to happen
next. Maybe it was better if he just went with the flow for once, and not
fight this strong impulse in his heart.

"Okay," he thought to himself. "Alex seems like a swell guy. He's sweet,
fairly smart and feels genuine - that's beyond any of my past
experiences. I really should approach this with an open mind, see how today
pans out. I just don't want to end up being hurt by him - god, he seems so
promising."

Vic's phone rang again - it was his mother, trying to contact him through
Skype, and he swiftly answered the call. "Victor! Oh, thank the Lord. Your
father tried to call you so many times, he's worried sick. Son, are you
alright?"

"Mum, I'm fine," Vic reassured her. "Sorry for not picking up, I was still
asleep. Did something happen back in London?"

"No, my boy! Have you not seen the news?" there was astonishment in his
mother's voice. "There was a shooting at some gay bar where you are now,
and 15 people died. It's making international headlines - nearly gave me a
heart attack when I read about it. I'm so glad you're safe, but remember,
boy - there are people who will kill you just for who you are. Promise me
you'll be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, Mum. I'll make sure to," Vic's voice was tender, touched by
his mother's concern. "Thanks for calling, I really appreciate it. Maybe I
could speak to Dad as well?" After receiving repeated assurances that he'd
stay out of queer neighbourhoods, Vic's parents finally let him off, but
not before reminders that they loved him very much.

As he hung up, a groggy Alex was just stirring awake, looking stunning
despite his bed hair. "Morning," he slurred. "That's an early phone call."

"Yeah, it was my folks. They heard about what happened, and they were
worried I might be involved. Look, it's all over the news." Vic moved over
to Alex's side, and together they read the reports: the 'suspects' involved
were disgruntled veterans, whose minds never survived the Iraq War. The
most popular theory suggested that they intended to send a message, about
the types of people they served the nation for. This apparently didn't
include liberal Yankees, gays, or a combination of both. They then offed
themselves, preferring to die at their own hands instead of statists'.

Alex's brow was arched in amusement. "Does this story sound accurate to
you?"

"Not quite," Vic frowned. "Certainly not the end bit. I think our mystery
friend has something to do with this, though."

"I agree," Alex sighed. "We're still going in circles with this. We
probably won't come close to figuring this out on our own. Did you sleep
well, by the way? I was expecting nightmares or surreal dreams, but nothing
like that happened."

"I'm not sure if I should say this..." Vic paused, embarrassed to continue
further.

"Generally, this means you should," Alex grinned cheekily. "I'm all
ears. What could be so bad, anyway?"

"Don't freak out, but I dreamed that we were together, here in your
apartment. We were part of a team, I'm not sure what it was exactly, though
it seems we made a few enemies. And, uh, we made out for a bit before I
woke up."

"I mean," Alex flushed a little, "I could think of worse. I know we talked
about how perhaps you were intuitive, and could perceive things that might
happen in the future. Be honest though, could this be something that's
coming entirely from your subconscious feelings? Do you like me, Vic?"

"Time to be frank," Vic thought. He could sense that Alex was as nervous as
he was, if not even more so - might as well thrash things out between the
two of them. "That's what I'm not sure about, Alex. Look, you're a very
attractive man, and I don't just mean appearances-wise. I like your
personality and attitude towards things as well, from what I've seen at
least. I hesitate to use the 'l' word, but what I see is that a future
might be possible."

Alex felt himself breathe easier, relieved that Vic had enough trust to lay
his cards on the table. "This might sound silly to you, Vic, but you've
brought a spark into my life I desperately needed. When I came to New York,
I was trying to escape what my family and friends wanted me to be - a good
ol' waspy Southern gentleman. Yet I still found myself moving in circles,
stuck in the same cliques and prejudices I've faced all this time. Took a
while to realise I just gravitated towards safer choices despite wanting to
change, making the tiniest adjustments to my life. Heck, I went to college
in Austin, and still ran around the same groups of jocks and well-off
brats. If I didn't change my attitude, I'd have the same problems no matter
where I ran to."

"So that takes me to yesterday," he continued, his smile widening as Vic
listened intently. "I swore to step away from my usual toxic crowd, stop
pretending I fit in with them. I ended up turning them down, seeking out
someplace different instead, and here we are. I know I said I wanted
different... well there's one great thing that came out of all this, and
that's you Vic. Like you said, it's way too soon to say anything concrete,
but I want us to figure out where we stand."

"At least we're on the same page," Vic beamed. "Alex, you said this would
just be a day out, but I want it to be more that. I want us to get to know
each other, or at least give it a good shot. We talked about pleasantries
last night, things that we liked, surface-level stuff - I enjoyed that, but
all it made me want to know is find out more about you. What makes you who
you are, cut past all the fluff."

"Works for me," Alex nodded. "Once we figure out the dynamic between us, we
can shape our approach in handling all the other complications. We're kind
of in this together after all." He was about to get out of bed to freshen
up, when another thought struck him. "Hold on. We were rambling on about
what prompted your dream, and it led us to have this nice little
relationship talk. Which is good, but we almost forgot about the dream
itself! I was thinking it might be worth recording as some kind of
reference."

"Good idea, actually. You got a blank diary lying about? Looks like I'm
starting my own dream journal - just assure me that you won't subject it to
Freudian analysis."

"No guarantees there," Alex threw Vic a spare notebook, grabbed some
clothes from his closet and headed into the bathroom, while the other man
started scribbling away. When the door was shut, Alex took the opportunity
to quickly rub one out. It was a desperate episode, driven by a need to
ease the inconvenient sexual tension with Vic; all he needed to visualise
was his crush in sleepwear, and he was off in seconds. "Pretty pathetic
having to wank into a toilet," he sighed, but he didn't want to do anything
until they were more certain about each other.

When Alex was done, Vic was completing the final part of his journal
entry. He had structured his writing like a play script, with detailed
notes on the setting and little nuances he noticed. This was a man who was
disciplined and meticulous, despite his attitude possibly suggesting
otherwise. "Sorry, I might've gotten carried away," he shrugged. "Nice
outfit by the way, even if you still need new clothes." Vic had never been
fond of what he deemed country club wear, but Alex fit it so well anyway,
that he couldn't complain about the way a red polo tee and tight Levi's
511s showed off his contours, topped off with a pair of dark brown leather
sneakers.

"I'm sure you can help rectify that later," Alex smiled. "Now hurry up and
get changed, so I can take you out!"

"Alright, guvnor!" Vic gave Alex a mock salute, causing the latter to roll
his eyes and grin. He ended up having a quick wank as well, and for the
exact same reasons Alex did. "What a bloody waste of cum," he thought to
himself. "Ah well, Alex's waiting." He decided on a snug-fitting yellow
T-shirt, stone-washed denim jacket, white trousers and low-topped
red-and-black Adidas trainers. The combo was well-received by Alex, who
desperately focused on unsexy thoughts to kill his stirring loins.

They kick-started the day with breakfast at a deli near Alex's apartment,
and got to better know each others' backgrounds over pastrami sandwiches
and coffee. Vic's father was a Nigerian poet while his mother was an
Afro-Caribbean English teacher, and he'd grown up in a noisy but
culturally-rich environment. His parents cultivated a love of the arts and
humanities in him, which complimented his natural aptitude with mathematics
and statistics. Although his family wasn't particularly well-off, he did
great enough academically to enrol in Oxford, and hoped to make a decent
living in in financial services. Coming out had been painless, despite a
period of angst that he harboured, and his parents told him that he was
loved unconditionally.

Alex expressed his envy of Vic's family life; he explained that he was born
in a fairly rich household, and while he got anything he asked for
materially, he never felt like he fit in. It wasn't just his sexual
orientation, which he denied even to himself until his move to New York. He
was constantly surrounded by fawning admirers and peers from a similar
socioeconomic background, who were vicious and nasty under all their
pretenses of civility. He'd come to realise that no matter where he went,
he would be doomed to unhappiness as long as he hung out with the same
types of people. He'd been raised conservative, and was ashamed he'd never
critically reflected on those ideas until after high school. He had a
drastic swing in attitude once he did, but even then he held his tongue in
his social circles, knowing the consequences for stepping out of
line. Personal drama aside, though, he'd always been a star student and
athlete. Besides an almost-stereotypical interest in football, which Vic
argued was inferior to soccer, he graduated summa cum laude in chemical
engineering. Now, he wanted to focus on achieving balance in both his
personal and professional lives.

"You're doing good mate," Vic assured Alex in between bites of his
sandwich, "Introspection doesn't come easy. I have a lot to learn myself,
but sometimes it's just hard to see your flaws objectively. I reckon that
by vocalising all this, you're doing a lot better than most folks already,
so give yourself more credit."

"Thanks," Alex was appreciative, although clearly a bit
self-conscious. "Now I've got to walk the talk though. Self-reflection
doesn't count for anything if you don't act on it."

"Eh, Alex. From what I know so far, I don't think your personality's an
issue. It's more about understanding other perspectives and reconciliating
the differences, which you're doing a good job of. Mostly, at least -
seriously, you were surprised that I was British?" Vic teased. "Have you
not seen Idris Elba? He's everyone's favourite Black British Actor Dude."

Alex's face was a deep shade of crimson. "Sorry, bro, I had a blonde
moment.  It's not like I don't know better, but it's just not something you
expect, you get what I'm saying? Besides, I might've gotten distracted by
your voice - it's positively magnetic.

"Magnetic voice, eh? Says the boy with a Southern twang - I've always
thought that was trashy hot."

"Don't let a Georgian hear that - we're supposed to keep it classy here,"
Alex laughed. "Even if it's usually anything but that..."

The meal ended on a light-hearted note, and Vic was positively raving about
the pastrami. The way he described breakfast, with its gorgeous mess of
sour, salty, sweet and spicy flavours thrown together, triggered memories
of the tastes in Alex's mind again. Vic had vivid and elegant ways of
describing things, a fondness for colour and flourish that communicated his
adoration of life. It was a world that Alex found himself increasingly
drawn into.

Their next stop was MoMA, to gawk at and chat about a range of
installations spanning from great masterpieces to the plain bizarre. They'd
share silly stories about themselves as well, in between minor debates
about their varying interpretation of artworks. Surprisingly, Vic thought
that a lot of 'contemporary art' was utter tosh, the product of cynical
bloviating. Alex didn't disagree this was true sometimes, but he tried to
be methodical and considered in his reasoning. Regardless, both of them
conceded that the other made fair points supporting their views.

After a quick streetside lunch where they cheekily shared half-eaten
souvlakis with each other, they walked off the meal by strolling along
Fifth Avenue and admiring its bustle, stopping to take photos when
something caught their interest. It wasn't long, though, before Vic
insisted that it was time to go crazy shopping. He was game to try
different types of fabrics and styles in hopes of finding an eclectic
match, sometimes veering towards the more flamboyant end of the
spectrum. Alex had never considered himself to be much of a shopper, but
Vic's enthusiasm was infectious, not to mention his forcefulness in giving
Alex new clothes to try out. When it was all over, some of Alex's haul
included a selection of coloured shorts, V-necks, casual shirts and
shoes. These were less fussy than his usual dress style but still modest,
which Vic thought fit Alex's disposition. Vic himself wasn't a fan of
over-the-top dressing, although he did like the occasional piece of
scandalous clothing when he felt like being more provocative.

Their day ended with dinner at a busy little Japanese restaurant. Over
plates of yaki udon, gyoza and salmon sashimi, Alex and Vic talked about
their past relationships. It started innocuously, when Vic jokingly
expressed his surprise that Alex was single, given how he was boyfriend
material in almost all aspects. Alex noted that his coming out was a
relatively recent affair, and before that he had only been with women, with
the occasional hookup on the side. Since then, there weren't many men who
caught his interest. Sure, he knew plenty of attractive gays, but many of
them were also narcissistic, selfish and surprisingly judgmental. He'd soon
stopped caring, rarely seeking out anyone except for a quickie here and
there. It had led him to be slightly depressed as well, although he swore
not to succumb to the jadedness that many in the community seemed to
express.

Vic then admitted that his love life had been equally unsuccessful - there
were a couple of boyfriends that lasted for a few months, but the long-term
fit between them just wasn't there, and eventually some astoundingly
mundane issue would collapse the relationship. They commiserated with each
other through cups of warm sake, which were the perfect antidote to a
chilly night.

They were laughing between themselves when they returned to Alex's place,
hands full of shopping bags and hearts full of joy. It almost felt like a
normal day, rather than a time out from some bizarre near-death
experience. After setting down the bags, they found themselves back on the
couch, comfortably close to each other.

"I hope you enjoyed today, Vic," Alex grinned. "I know I did. I thought I
got to know you better today, and I really like what I saw."

Vic's face was serious but happy, and he broke into a soft smile. "I kind
of have something I need to confess. Maybe I should've done this earlier,
when we were eating that awesome Japanese dinner, but I'm not as strong as
you are."

"Huh," Alex was now intrigued, his expression curious. "Don't sweat it,
man. What's up?"

"I had told myself I wouldn't date a white guy." Seeing Alex's eyes widen
in surprise, Vic hastily added, "Emphasis on 'had', alright? Let me just
try and explain it. It's stupid, yes, but I hope you'll understand why I
thought that."

"Okay," Alex was still bemused and frankly unsure what he thought, but he
decided to hear Vic out. "Sorry, of all the things you said, that just came
out of nowhere."

"See," Vic grimaced, hoping he hadn't fucked things up, "When I first got
out and about, I was a horny, idealistic lad who thought I wouldn't have
issues with sex or dating. I mean, I got my fair share of action, but when
it came to the white boys I had a problem. You see, most of the time when
I'd approach them, they'd say no. Sometimes, they have this look in their
eyes, and any minority person knows what it means. There are also people
who aren't even polite or diplomatic about it. And when I did get hookups,
most of my partners would want me to act like some aggressive hoodlum or
street thug, shouting at me to punish their arse and make them hurt. It's
painful, and it's not something I wanted to experience. It just happened
way too often."

"And then here you are," he continued, looking like he might break into
tears, "And you just effortlessly destroy every single barrier I've put
up. Alex, mate, I was always a bit wary when I interacted with you, and for
that I'm truly sorry. You were just so fantastic a guy, I was afraid there
was that hidden side in you, that I might not really be someone you really
liked. It makes me feel awful that I've even harboured such a
thought. You've showed me you're beyond any stereotype or misconception I
might've had about you, and you're someone I want in my life too."

Alex was angry and sad at first, but after hearing Vic out, he just wanted
to give his crush a tight hug, and comfort him in his arms. Vic had seemed
so jovial and strong, that it never felt like he had been carrying this
pain. In any case, it seemed like he wanted to start their relationship on
a totally fresh slate, and Alex was more than happy to oblige. He stood up
and positioned himself over Vic, smelling the other man's pleasant scent of
shower gel, feeling his trepidation. "You have nothing to apologise for,
Vic," he whispered, his voice shaking with nervousness. "Now, we have a
chance at building something real."

At that point, they knew what was going to happen, and what to do: their
lips closed the distance, and both of them wished they could forever relive
this moment, when they felt each others' intimate warmth for the first
time. Relief, happiness, security: a floodgate of emotions burst out,
having been barely contained over the past 24 hours. What started as a
chaste kiss grew heavy and fervent, not so much of sexual desire for now,
but to make up for all the lost time they'd missed before meeting each
other, and for the great promise that lay ahead in their lives. Their
muscular bodies were rubbing, and their arms were wrapped around each
other, but all that they cared to focus on was the kiss between them.

They continued until they were utterly breathless before finally breaking
off, panting and grinning stupidly at each other. The men just sat on the
couch, cuddling each other and feeling their partner's comfortable body
heat, tired but very happy. In addition to the emotional comfort they gave
each other, they now physically felt the bond between them. Amidst the
chaos that had overturned their lives, they would have each others' backs,
no matter what happened next. And they were confident in what they were
about to do next.

"Thank you for that, mate," Vic gave Alex another light kiss on the lips, a
goofy smile radiating from his face. "I'm glad you're coming along for the
ride."

"Of course I am." There was a mischievous spark in Alex's eye, a rare
moment of cockiness that Vic found especially sexy. "Now that we've sealed
the deal, we can try to figure out the other parts of this mess we're in."

"Right," Vic nodded. "Time to make a phone call."

----

Next chapter: The boys visit their new friend, find out what exactly they
can do, and what the hell is going on (sort of). Among other happenings, of
course.

Do you have any thoughts, speculation, suggestions or (constructive)
feedback? Feel free to email me at benwritesstuff@gmail.com.