Vestige

Chapter Four



The crumbling stone jutted into the burning sky like an accusatory finger, the black smoke billowing around it, curling in a serpentine manner. Ivy crawled across the ground and walls, and he stepped over the tangles easily, peering up a staircase, broken marble chipped and crushed. He could hear drums in the distance, their throbbing beat filling his head, pulsing in his eyes.



The smell of fire and death was everywhere. Bodies were strewn across the steps like rag dolls, their arms and legs splayed and lifeless, their blank eyes staring with cold indifference. He climbed the broken stairs, careful of them, eyes set forward at the crest. Something was waiting for him, some kind of fabulous treasure that would forever change him. He was hungry for it, but terrified of it.



He stood at the top of the stairs with the warm wind blowing against his face, filled with smoke and fire, carrying the tortured screams of the people. The dark people who had lived on this land, who had worshiped him and then turned from him in terror.



The altar was there, polished gold that gleamed beneath the furnace of the sun. And stretched over it, as though to ward it from damage or offer himself as some form of sacrifice, was Felix Morales. He was naked and his eyes shone horribly bright in the sunlight. He looked more like a ferocious animal than any sweet gypsy. In the dream, for Caleb knew it was a dream, he did not know Felix, he did not recognize his lovely face or long for the sensual warmth of his arms. He saw him as an obstacle, something that must be conquered. As he had conquered the others just like him.



Felix was pointing and growling words in a tongue that Caleb did not recognize, and that the man in the dream only found amusing. He could hear the footsteps on the marble as he crossed the clearing and came upon the altar, Felix leaping up at him like a feral cat, his teeth bared and his strong arms gripping and swinging.



Whoever he was in the dream, whomever’s eyes he peered through, grabbed Felix by his throat and lifting him up into the air. Caleb could feel the man jerking and writhing in his hand, could smell the fear pouring off of him, mixing with the smoke and almost choking him. He was crushing Felix’s throat, feeling him scrabble at his hand feverishly, watching his eyes roll up and blood pour from his mouth.



“No.”



The blood was everywhere now, running down his arm and around his feet, vomiting from the altar in a sickening gush, up into the burning sky. Felix went limp in his hand, and was thrown aside, his body landing somewhere out of his peripheral, with a horrible thud.



“NO!”



Caleb shot up in bed, his voice still echoing through his bedroom, his body quivering. A cold sweat ran down his back and at his temples, and his heart was racing so fast he thought he might seriously die for a moment. The image still burned in his mind, of Felix’s body falling slack in his hand, of the blood pouring out of his body. Caleb gripped his pillow against his face, frightened tears coming hot and thick to his eyes.



“No, no, no,” Caleb moaned into his pillow, body still trembling and heart still pounding. “No, please, not again. Not again.”







As a child, he had experienced what others described as lucid dreams. Through the years he had come to learn the truth about his vivid dreaming; had learned that chalking them up to an overactive imagination was wrong. Only a small portion of the population experienced precognitive dreaming, which, Caleb had found, was precisely what his dreams occasionally were. What was more troubling was the fact that there was no explanation of the other dreams. The nightmares that had plagued him all his life, that had disappeared before returning with a bang the previous night.



Caleb could not remember another time where he had been so terrified, where a nightmare had lingered with him for so long. Sitting there in his bed in the darkness, waiting for dawn, Caleb had thrust the dream away violently and pined for the warmth of Felix’s arms. He did not pretend to understand the dream, nor did he want to; all he had known was that he needed to see the man, needed to feel him against his body and be sure of his reality.



As the sun banished the darkness from the sky, it did the same for the darkness in his mind. Caleb had all but forgotten the nightmare when he climbed out of bed and made his way into the bathroom to shower and dress. And by the time he arrived at work, polished and pressed, it had faded from the recesses of his mind.



But that was not the last of his nightmares. That was only the beginning.







Felix smiled as he opened the paper, turning to the editorials and seeing the man’s grainy photo beside a rather long, boring statement on the current crisis facing the closing of public libraries. Felix scanned it briefly, unaware that as he read Caleb’s words and flicked his eyes back and forth between them and the man’s face, his smile widened considerably.



“You look like the cat that ate the canary,” Vicente observed wryly, leaning against the counter and fixing his grandson in his rheumy eyes, “What’s making you smile so, boy?”



Felix shook his head, closing the paper and leaning back in the overstuffed chair. He was as confused and wanting as Caleb, though he felt he had a well of patience, whereas the lusty blonde had only a small puddle, which was slowly evaporating. It was hard to resist such a beautiful man, however. Felix would have daydreams about him, about running his fingers through those soft blonde curls; of letting his fingertips explore his fair white skin. He wondered sometimes how hard Caleb’s body was; he was a large man, and underneath all of that suede and cotton, Felix imagined he was extremely toned. Sharp with muscle and soft with lovely curves.



But he had meant what he had told Caleb a few nights earlier. He could not lay down with him until he was sure that Caleb desired him past his body. Until Caleb managed to let go of whatever or whoever he was clinging to so desperately. There was a melancholy, almost pitiful air around the journalist, as though he had been existing in limbo for a long time. He interacted with people with an air of caution and awkwardness; afraid to let them get too close. But Felix both refused to take a leap of faith and refused to let go of him. He would not be pushed away so easily, nor would he be pulled in so close without first understanding him; without himself being understood.



But he was lonesome, and Caleb was powerfully sexy. The tilt of his smile, the gentle dusting of freckles across his nose, the light of his deep green eyes; all of these things made Felix weak. Perhaps his well of patience was not as deep as he had first thought.



He had dreamt of him last night. The first time Felix had ever had dreams about a man he had just met. Dreamt of Caleb lying naked on his bed, his skin wonderfully bright in sunshine, his sex standing up against his belly, his thighs open to him. His demure eyes almost aflame with lust and passion. He had fallen against him in the dream, had almost felt Caleb’s breath against his ear, his fingers running down his spine. In the dream, he had found more freckles on Caleb’s lily shoulders, had kissed them slowly, one by one.



He had awoken furiously hard and slick, almost ashamed as he had masturbated to thoughts of the blonde.



“Ah, nothing, abuelo,” Felix answered in a soft sigh. He passed a hand through his hair before running it down his face. There was stubble there, long and coarse, he’d have to shave before his date. His stomach tumbled a little as he though of being so close to Caleb again. Dammit. He was really getting himself tangled up in the man. “Just thinking that you should take the rest of the day off. It’s been very slow today, and you look tired.”



“The day I’m too tired to work is the day they put me in the ground,” Vicente replied in his cheerful, gravelly voice. “But you could go on home if you like, Felix. There isn’t much for you to do today.”



Felix stood and stretched, looking around the deserted store before slowly shrugging his shoulders. If he went home now, that would give him plenty of time to shower and decide what he was going to wear. He was not a vain man, but he felt that he could make some kind of effort to polish himself for Caleb. He doesn’t want you polished, Felix thought as he bid his grandfather goodbye and left the bookstore, He likes you just the way you are. He wants you to be a gypsy for him, a musical vagabond. He enjoys it.



That was undoubtedly true; but Felix still believed that this night would be special for them, perhaps momentous. And he wanted to look good for the man. So good that Caleb would be weakened by the sight of him. Felix smiled.



That shouldn’t be too difficult.







When Caleb saw the man, he was unable to draw his eyes away from him. Felix was standing there on the sidewalk, smoking and leaning lazily against the mighty trunk of a *Moonshine Yarrow, its shade cast along him in starling contrast to the glow of the setting sun. Caleb parked and climbed out of his car, walking towards the man with a grin on his face and his hands in the pockets of his slacks.



No flip-flops tonight, Caleb noted. Felix had decided to put on a pair of loafers, that easily accented his crème colored trousers. His shirt was modest and buttoned up to his throat, the collar flared daringly against his jaw, his hair swept back from his dark brow. No socks though, Caleb mused silently, eyes dropping to Felix’s naked ankles, You can’t change your spots, Felix.



Those dark, dangerously deep eyes moved to him, shaded with smoke. For a brief moment Caleb recalled his nightmare, and his heart sunk low in his chest. But Felix banished everything with a sunny smile, flicking his cigarette into the gutter and sauntering over to plant a fierce, open-mouthed kiss on Caleb’s lips.



Despite his fervent ache for the man, Caleb did not dive into him as he had during their first kiss. He stroked Felix’s cheek softly with his thumb, letting his tongue and teeth lightly explore Felix’s tongue and lips. Felix hummed against him, pulling back and placing both hands on Caleb’s broad chest. His eyes flicked up, the look in them caught somewhere between playful and desperate. Caleb fell into them helplessly. “You look beautiful,” Caleb murmured on Felix’s moist lips.



“You too,” Felix purred. “Ah, Caleb, what are we doing to each other?” His hands restlessly pet through Caleb’s blonde curls as he posed the question.



“I don’t know,” Caleb answered truthfully, “But I like it.”







He did not invite the man to speak about himself, but Felix voluntarily began to describe his childhood as they sat there together and sipped their wine. Caleb was more nervous than he had ever been in his life, which struck him as strange considering their electric chemistry and wild kissing. But that was physical, and Caleb could accept the sexual desire. What concerned him was how easily he melted into Felix’s eyes and how warmth filled his chest as he listened to the lullaby of his voice.



He spoke of his mother, who had ran off to Mexico City when she had gotten pregnant with him. There was a sorrowful pattern to his speech when he mentioned the woman; not a boy who missed his mother, but a man who deeply resented both her and the relationship he had had with her. When he spoke of his grandfather calling him after her death, he brightened considerably, speaking of the man as though he were a Saint.



“I came out here expecting to lead some kind of ordinary life. And then I met you.” Felix laughed, “A rather extraordinary man, if I do say so myself.”



“You’re trying to flatter me,” Caleb murmured, taking a sip of wine, “Keep going. It’s working for you.”



Felix pushed his foot against Caleb’s leg, sliding up his trousers a bit with a smile on his face. It trembled and he broke into laughter when Caleb’s face began to grow red. “For such a liberal man, you are awfully easy to fluster,” Felix told him.



“I’m not used to such a sexy thing flirting with me.”



“Oh, now we see who the real charmer is. You just earned yourself some brownie points, Mr. Bennett.”



The waiter came to take their orders, and after Felix debated for five minutes on his dinner, the man left them to their conversation. Caleb could feel himself lumbering through it, not so much an effort to connect with the man as it was to let himself go. He had spent the last year of his life in a deepening depression, and in a matter of a few days Felix had pulled him free of it. He associated it with spending a year in darkness and then being thrust into the sun. It was blinding and confusing; so beautiful and bright that he thought he might go crazy from it.



“Tell me something,” Felix sighed, resting his chin on his hand and fixing his intent eyes on Caleb’s face. “What do you think about me, Caleb?”



“What do you mean?”



“You know what I mean, love.”



Caleb fumbled suddenly with his silverware, polishing the utensils despite their brilliant shine. The word from Felix made his stomach quiver strangely. He had a desire that transcended anything sexual; a desire to lie with Felix and let him call him that forever. “Ah. I think, that you’re…” His gaze flicked to the man briefly. “Amazing. I could sit here with you and make an ass of myself trying to explain why, but… I don’t have it in me, Felix. You make me feel like I’ve been trudging through my life, looking down at my feet. And you’re…dancing, aren’t you? That’s what it feels like to me. You’re dancing through life. Not because you don’t know pain or insecurity or sadness… but because you’re strong. And you make me want to dance with you.”



Felix reached across the table and touched Caleb’s hand, drawing it to his mouth and pressing five warm, moist kissing to his knuckles. “Usted derrite mi corazon,” Felix murmured, his voice smooth and hot with passion. He saw Caleb’s confused face, but also the little tremor in his lower lip as his skin was kissed. He wondered how many men had seen this man’s lips tremble, and knew the answer was none. Caleb would not have let them. “You melt my heart,” Felix repeated in English, smiling and pressing his lips once more to Caleb’s hand.



Caleb turned his hand and rested his palm to Felix’s cheek. “You remind me I have one,” he told him, quite possibly the most honest, genuine words that had ever come from his mouth.







They drifted into Caleb’s apartment, mouths joined together, bodies crashing into walls and sending papers to the floor. Felix’s loafer slipped on a bit of the litter, and he fell harder into Caleb’s body, the shock between them sending moans through their united mouths. When fingers found the buttons of his shirt, Felix did not interfere with their progress, letting himself be undressed. His shirt was pushed from his shoulders, Caleb’s powerful hands gripping his sides, sliding to his hips, returning to squeeze and massage his sensitive sides. Restless.



“Ah, Caleb.”



“You tell me to slow down and I’m gonna kick your ass,” Caleb throatily mumbled, forcing his mouth down on Felix’s, aggressively pressing him against the wall and plunging his tongue inside of him. Felix closed his eyes and lifted his thigh around Caleb’s waist, bunching his fingers in his kinky hair. There was a tidal wave of aching lust washing over him. He tried to find his well of patience, his core of control, and both eluded him. Caleb was solid and hot against him, and Felix could not push him away.



Caleb left his lips to explore the sensual curve of his jaw and the long, graceful line of his throat. Felix groaned softly, hands sliding down to push beneath Caleb’s shirt, tracing over the stony mass of his abs, scratching against his chest wantonly. His body was just as hard as Felix had been hoping, and he tilted his head back, letting Caleb bite his throat, bruising his dark skin.



“At least make love with me in a bed,” Felix whispered, eyes rolling back as Caleb’s teeth nipped lightly at his collarbone.



Caleb lowered and gripped Felix around his waist, and before the man could ask him what he meant to do, let alone demand he stop, Caleb had him over his shoulder. Obviously carting him in the direction of the bedroom.



Felix had very little time to complain before he was on his feet again, this time beside Caleb’s bed, his mouth once more absorbed in a deep kiss. He could feel Caleb taking control of the situation, trying to take control of him, and Felix rose up in dissent. There would be no owning in that room, there would be no control, or submission. Felix pulled from the kiss and slowly sunk to his knees before Caleb, looking up at him with his face covered in moonlight. “Let me,” he whispered, unbuttoning Caleb’s slacks and lowering them down his thighs, “Let me, Caleb.”



“Nn, Felix…”



Felix slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband of Caleb’s boxers, working them down his hips. Caleb’s fingers pushed through his hair, gripping there roughly as Felix brought his naked arousal out and wrapped his hand around it. Caleb was panting already, and Felix knew that their first time together would be frantic and rushed. He wished that it could be a little slower, a little more intimate; but there would be time for that later.



“Mm, so nice Caleb,” Felix murmured, lightly curling his tongue against the head of Caleb’s cock, tasting his pre-come. His eyes refused to stray, and remained tilted up to Caleb’s face. His lips slowly enfolded the blonde’s eager member, sliding down with a gentle hum from Felix’s throat.



“Oh God,” Caleb groaned, thrusting a little against Felix’s hot mouth, his legs quivering beneath him. He could sense no gag reflex as he disappeared into Felix’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat and feeling his soon-to-be lover breathing against his belly. “Oh, fuck, Felix!”



One hand gripped Caleb’s hip, the other lightly caressing his balls, finding his pubic hair soft and thick, finally closing his eyes against Caleb’s face. He let the man rock slowly against him, in and out of his mouth, his tongue sliding against his hot, swollen flesh. He loved the feel of that throbbing meat against his tongue, loved the smell of Caleb’s sweaty flesh, tight against his nose. Loved him, hopelessly and helplessly.



“You taste so good,” Felix groaned, lifting from the blonde’s arousal and kissing softly up and down the shaft. He nipped lightly with his teeth, once more tasting his pre-come as he lightly probed the urethra, a warm flood of bitter fluid washing across his tongue. Caleb was past excited; he was now frenzied.



“Felix, Felix,” Caleb was muttering. His face was slightly twisted, his breath coming sharp and fast, his fingers now wound in Felix’s hair, so tight he wondered if he could remove them. Felix flicked his tongue lightly over the head of Caleb’s arousal, and then let it press beneath, rubbing there roughly. Caleb gasped and shut his eyes against his orgasm, as though he were too horrified to watch his come shoot out over Felix’s upturned face.



His knees trembled, and he let himself fall down onto them, sitting on the floor in front of Felix with his head slowly lowering against Felix’s shoulder. Felix chuckled gently, wrapping his arms around the blonde’s waist and pulling their bodies closely together. “A little excited, love?”



“I… I’m sorry.”



Felix slipped his fingers through the warm mess on his face, guiding it to his mouth. “No, no,” he purred, nudging his nose against the blonde’s cheek until Caleb looked at him miserably. “Don’t. I liked it.”



“But, you---” Caleb’s hand reached out and cupped Felix’s hidden arousal, feeling his hardness and wetness through his trousers.



Felix pushed his hips against the contact.



“The night is still young,” he managed in a breathless voice. He stood up from the floor and sat down on the bed, where he removed his loafers and laid back. Caleb traced the line of his arousal, straining against his slacks, and removed his shirt before climbing on top of him. “I still do want to take it slow,” Felix murmured to him, his smile kittenish. He slipped out of his pants and threw them aside, his underwear immediately following. “So maybe we… shouldn’t… tonight…”



“Shouldn’t…,” Caleb breathed, so achingly close he felt he could melt into the man; so deep in his eyes he felt lost.



“Rub your body against me,” Felix directed. He watched Caleb patiently as the large blonde rummaged in his drawers, returning against him with a small tube held in his hand. There was little hesitation, or questioning of just what Felix wanted from him. Caleb oiled Felix’s arousal first, teasing his erection with slow, squeezing strokes, pressing his face at the hollow of Felix’s throat, kissing his warm, moist skin. Just the light friction of his sex against Felix’s soft inner thigh had him harder than ever, and he lubed himself next, body shuddering against the sensitive pleasure.



“Like this,” Felix whispered, pulling Caleb’s hips down roughly, their cocks slamming together and pain and ecstasy burning in Caleb’s belly. He gasped and moaned into Felix’s throat, letting the man roll his hips up against him, the friction almost chaotic it was so intense. Caleb had never felt anything like it, and he stuttered this to Felix as they humped their bodies slickly together. Felix responded with a deep moan, back arching and head tilted back sharply.



Caleb was so heavy on top of him, but it was exciting to feel all of that hard muscle and soft skin caressing his body. Felix reached down between them, his hand gripping both of their slick cocks together, pumping frantically. There was none of his usual calm and ease as he thrust up against him and squeezed their arousals together. Caleb had turned him, at least briefly, into a horny, eager animal.



Felix cried it out as Caleb joined his thrusting, their bodies slamming together, their cocks pulsing powerfully against each other. He cried it out almost brokenly as he came, feeling Caleb bite into his shoulder and more of his come washing over Felix’s belly.



“I love you!,” Felix cried out.



For all that Caleb knew, Felix could have screamed out to the Pope and he wouldn’t have noticed. He was exhausted and reeling in a euphoric haze, his afterglow settling on his skin like velvet. He managed to roll off of Felix, pulling the man with him, cradling his smaller body in his side. “Felix,” Caleb murmured, half-lidded eyes looking up at the ceiling, feeling Felix’s body trembling against him. “Will you stay?”



“Yes,” Felix breathed slowly.



“Felix,” Caleb tried again, eyes growing heavier. “Did you… say something?”



“No, love,” Felix told him, resting his face on Caleb’s chest, fingers stroking slowly through his chest hair. “Nothing.”