A gay story: Against the Dying of the Light Author’s note:
This story is about moving on after losing a loved one, and carries on from A Committed Boy.
❧ ❧ ❧
Dane had never been to a funeral before. In the movies, it was always raining. People stood around dressed in black, and there was always some hot bird crying into a hanky with a veil over her face.
This funeral didn’t have any rain. Or mourners. Or a graveyard. No grieving widow. Just Dane, a pine coffin, and the furnace the coffin was about to roll into.
As he looked down at the coffin, Dane realised this would be Kian’s first funeral. His first… and his last.
The boy standing beside him put a hand on Dane’s shoulder. His voice was soft as he spoke.
“I wish I’d known him. Both of you, really.”
Dane said nothing. Hearing that voice, so like Kian’s, but without Kian’s… soul… for want of a better word, just hurt.
“Can I touch him?” Kenneth asked.
“If you want,” said Dane. It seemed weird to him, but it must be twice as weird for Kenneth to see his clone lying there in a coffin, waiting to be turned to ash.
Kenneth placed a hand on Kian’s chest, and Dane could see him process what Dane already knew; that coldness was something he never wanted to feel again.
Kenneth suddenly shuddered. His eyes went wide and he snatched his hand back, his chest heaving as if he’d had a shock.
“Sorry, ah, I feel like a voyeur being here. I’m going to wait outside.”
Dane nodded, fighting back the urge to break into the great, ugly sobs he knew were inside him somewhere, waiting for enough privacy to consume him.
While Kenneth walked swiftly for the exit, Dane kept his attention on the coffin as it jerked into motion, watching as the front of the pine box entered the chamber and the base burst into flames.
He’d wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. It was so surreal, this scene. Something that didn’t happen in real life, because in real life, twenty-three year olds didn’t die from failing DNA. Only, they did. The special ones did.
There would never be anyone like Kian in the world again, Dane knew it. And the clone, the fucking, original of his lover was still here. Living, breathing. Expecting a nice, long life.
His hand curled into a fist against his thigh. Why had Kian insisted Kenneth be here? They hadn’t known each other, any of them. But if Kian had thought he was setting Dane up, he was in for a fucking… post-mortem surprise. Because nothing in the world could make Dane fuck someone who looked so much like his lover.
❧ ❧ ❧
Kenneth was leaning against a pole outside with his back to Dane as Dane walked out into the sunny afternoon. Dane’s gaze fixed on the youth’s long hair, falling down his back in waves. He clearly looked after it and wore it loose against his shoulders in a shining curtain of black silk.
Kian had worn his hair tied back.
Kian was gone.
Dane tapped him on the shoulder. “What now?”
“You want to a get a pint?” Kenneth asked.
Dane nodded. Why the fuck not?
❧ ❧ ❧
The pub was loud and wrong. The sunshine and the open sky overhead were wrong. The upbeat music was wrong. Kenneth was so very fucking wrong.
They sat opposite each other, Kenneth downing his second pint, while Dane nursed his first, a plate of chips between them.
“I don’t know what to say,” said Kenneth. “Why did you never bring him to see me? I’d have helped you.”
Dane shrugged again. It was impossible to explain to the slight youth sitting opposite him how clones worked. How they shared emotions. How afraid Dane was that bringing Kian and Kenneth together would somehow muddy what he shared with Kenneth’s clone. How little time they’d known they had.
Neither of them had forgotten that Kian wouldn’t live much more than a couple of years, but by fuck, Dane had let himself pretend.
Kenneth chewed slowly on a hot chip, his eyes on Dane’s face, and Dane could feel the other boy considering him. Reading him. Kian had been like that—had somehow been able to read his thoughts, just by looking into his eyes.
As his clone’s had been, Kenneth’s features were soft and feminine. His eyes were a green-blue that Dane found oddly hypnotic, wide, and framed with dark lashes. His lips were soft and kissable. He was on the small side, coming up to Dane’s shoulder, and built light.
He kept his hair long, so that from behind, you’d struggle to tell if he was a boy or a girl. Dane guessed he’d been taking hormones or something, because his body was soft. No facial hair. He remembered Kian telling him his original had been in the process of transitioning when he’d been cloned and was curious how far he’d gone with it. It wasn’t something he could ask, but nothing could stop him wondering.
He was so… Kian. Just looking at him made Dane depressed, though the expression in his eyes was very different from Kian’s. He looked older, worldlier. Less manically sexual. And something else was missing. Dane realised it was knowledge—of him. Love. Devotion. Adoration.
“You’re staring at me,” said Kenneth, and Dane jerked out of his reverie.
“Sorry. You just… you don’t look like him.”
Kenneth snorted and snagged another chip. “I don’t look like my clone?”
“It’s your eyes. He was… he was himself, you know.”
Kenneth sighed. “I hear you, I do.” He dipped a chip into a small bowl of tomato sauce. “You know, if I hadn’t seen him in that coffin, I wouldn’t have believed a word of it. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should tell you at all,” said Dane. “But it seemed like something you should know. That someone else should know.”
“And you looked after him all this time?”
“It was just easier. My own dead clone was proof enough to jail Blent, and he wasn’t admitting to making a second one if I didn’t bring it up. I got a job to support us. My parents… fuck.” He swallowed hard. They’d been unexpectedly kind. “It was enough.”
Kenneth nodded towards the final chip left on the plate. “It’s crispy. Sure you don’t want it?”
Dane shook his head.
Kenneth snagged it and crunched it thoughtfully. “So, what will you do now?”
“Get on with it, I guess,” said Dane. Although what that looked like, he had no idea.
An awkward silence grew between them.
Kenneth cleared his throat. “I’ve got to take a piss.” He got up and headed for the gents, and Dane watched him go. After a moment’s deliberation, he got up and followed him. He wasn’t sure what was in his mind until he got there, and then it crystallised. If Kian wanted him to hook up with his original, then fuck him, Dane would hook the fuck up.
As Kenneth shook himself off, Dane entered the bathroom. He didn’t pause, just shoved the long-haired youth against the tiled wall and kissed him.
For a moment Kenneth’s eyes went wide, and then his hands went to Dane’s belt, tearing the other boy’s jeans open as he walked the taller youth into the bathroom’s single stall, fumbling the door closed behind them with one hand.
Dane shoved him back against the toilet door, his eyes hard with primal need, and Kenneth seemed lost in lust. It was enough. There was enough of Kian in there for Dane to do what he needed to do. Fuck Kian right back from the afterlife.
He pulled off the other boy’s shirt and then pushed him to his knees. Kenneth’s slim hands wrapped around him, his long hair tickling Dane’s thigh as the youth’s hot mouth closed around him.
Dane gripped fistfuls of Kenneth’s hair, urging him on, then pulled him to his feet and spun him around, pressing him against the door. Without ceremony, Dane pressed Kenneth’s slim frame against the door and pushed into him, knowing damn well it was wrong. The other boy let out a gasp, half pain, half hunger, as Dane pushed inside him, but didn’t protest.
The door rattled in its frame in time with Dane’s brutal thrusts, and as quickly as it began, it was over. Kenneth let out a soft gasp as he came, while Dane emptied himself inside the other boy with a sob wrenched from his gut.
As he came back to himself and slid out, he felt Kenneth shivering under his hands. The youth’s forehead rested against the door, his hair falling halfway down his pale back, and for a moment… for a moment…
No. No, fuck, what had he done?
Without a word, Dane did up his jeans and manoeuvred around the other boy, leaving him inside the stall. Kenneth still hadn’t come out of the bathroom by the time he’d finished paying, so Dane caught a cab and left, his thoughts a chaos of dark noise.
❧ ❧ ❧
A week later, Dane was lying on his bed, re-reading the same page of a novel until it felt his eyes would start to bleed, when his phone beeped. It was a message request.
He put the phone face down and went back to his reading. The phone beeped again.
He picked up the phone and looked at the picture. Christ, Kenneth looked like Kian. He would never get used to it. In his photo, Kenneth was sitting cross-legged on a couch, his hair falling over his shoulders. It made Dane ache.
He accepted the message request and then paused, unsure what to say.
‘Hi.’
Well, what else was there?
‘Hey. I know you’re grieving, but… I’ve got so many questions. I had a clone… a brother… and now he’s dead. I need to know more. It’s doing my head in.’
Dane swallowed hard. That was fair. He’d have felt the same if someone had called him out of the blue, told him he had a clone, and that it’d died.
He tapped the ‘call’ icon on his phone and a moment later, Kenneth’s face came up on his screen. Through the phone’s camera, he looked much younger than twenty-one—late teens at best. His hair fell loose around his face, and the shine in his eyes told Dane he was drunk, or blazed, or both.
“Heeeey.” He gave Dane a pouty smile.
Dane blinked back tears. Fuck. Fuck. This was so hard.
“Don’t flirt with me,” he said. “Please.”
Kenneth frowned. “Sorry, just feeling friendly… and a bit confused and a bit off my tits.”
“Yeah, okay. What did you want to know?”
Some of the shine went out of the other boy’s eyes.
“If you don’t want to do this—”
“Yes, just fucking… ask me,” said Dane.
Kenneth seemed to shrink into himself. His shoulders fell, and all the flirt dropped away.
“I can’t get him out of my head,” he said. He lifted a glass of what looked like bourbon to his lips and took a deep swallow. “Lying there, in that coffin. He looked like me. It was like looking at my own death. I dream about it. That it’s me, that I’m going into that fire.” He paused, his eyes fixed on a spot past his phone’s camera. “He… he looked like wax.”
Dane had been spared seeing his own clone’s corpse after it’d been killed trying to protect him and Kian, but he could imagine well enough how it must feel for Kenneth to see his for the first time, and to see him still and silent and gone.
It would be one thing to grow up with a brother who looked just like you—quite another for your first introduction to him to be to his corpse.
“Did you set that up to fuck with me?” Kenneth asked. “No. No, that’s mental.” He dropped his voice. “I don’t feel real anymore.”
Dane snorted. “Yeah, well, I know what you mean, mate. Fuck. When I met my clone, what happened next blew my fucking mind.”
“Can we meet up?” said Kenneth. “I don’t want to do this over the phone.”
Dane thought about their hasty fucking in the filthy pub toilet. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Come ooon,” Kenneth teased him, and that was almost Kian too. The flip in mood. The flirt. Shamelessly giving Dane the full force of his clear blue-green eyes to get his way.
Kian, his smooth body under Dane’s hands, his back arching, his face contorted with pleasure as Dane fucked him. His tongue in all Dane’s most intimate places. His skilled mouth. His soft lips. Never more than two feet away, if he could help it. Always touching. A finger crossing Dane’s. A toe nudging Dane’s foot. His head on Dane’s shoulder. Sitting in Dane’s fucking lap if Dane let him.
He wiped at his eyes. “Hey, look, I’m tired. Let’s catch up on the weekend.”
“Okay.” Kenneth’s voice was soft. “And when you do see me, ah, I don’t call myself Kenneth anymore. It’s just Ken.”
Something about the way he said it caught Dane’s attention. “Ken?”
“Well…” the other boy suddenly looked nervous. “Some of my friends call me ‘K’. I stopped… I mean, I don’t really care, just, Kenneth was too…”
“I get it,” Dane interrupted him. “I’ll message you.”
He killed the call and sat with his eyes closed for a long time.
❧ ❧ ❧
This time it was a café. Ken arrived a couple of minutes after the hour, and Dane waved him over. The other boy had pulled his hair back in a loose ponytail and was dressed in jeans, a fitting top and a cropped jacket.
Dane had to admit, he was an attractive guy… if… confusing.
He dropped down in the chair opposite Dane and sprawled his legs wide as he dropped a satchel beside the table.
“Hey.”
The flirt was back. Maybe it was in their DNA, Dane thought, Kenneth’s and Kian’s. No matter how serious the conversation, sex had never been far from Kian’s mind. And then… Dane had fucked the guy the first time he’d met him. He laughed to himself.
“What?” Ken asked.
“Oh, just… you’re the second guy I’ve ever fucked, and you’re a clone of the guy I lost my virginity to.”
“Uh, not the clone thanks,” said Ken. He seemed vaguely offended.
“Sorry. Original.”
Ken leaned forward and put a hand over Dane’s. “Sorry. You’ve lost someone you cared about. For me, this is all just…” He trailed off under Dane’s hard gaze.
Dane stared at him until he took his hand back. “Sorry.”
Dane shook his head. “Don’t mind me. You want coffee?”
Ken picked up the menu. “Do they do beer?”
“Yeah, if you like.”
A waiter came to their table and Dane ordered them both beers. Kenneth drank his from the bottle, considering Dane as he took the first swallow.
“So. Are we here because the toilets are cleaner than at the pub?”
Dane couldn’t help the bark of laughter that broke out of him. “Maybe,” he admitted, his eyes on the table.
“Aw, you’re so cute when you’re busted,” Ken teased him. He grinned. “Cute anyway, if you don’t mind me saying. I’m not usually into overly muscled types, but for a jock, you don’t seem too full of yourself.”
“A jock?” Dane snorted. “Cheers for that rousing endorsement.” He gulped down a third of his beer. Anything he could do to force himself to relax. “So, ask away.”
“I saw the court case on TV, so I know the basics. You were in Highfield, and you found out Blent was creating clones to use as sex slaves. But how did you meet my clone? What was he like? Why did he die?”
Dane had done his best to prepare short answers for these types of questions. Anything so he didn’t have to feel it all over again.
“Well, when I got to the hospital, the first thing I saw was him on his knees, sucking off my doctor. After a bit, he attached himself to me; I guess he liked me. And then I got to like him too, even though Blent had me convinced he was a hallucination at first. Aaah, what was he like?” He looked up at the ceiling. “Smart. Trouble. A lot of trouble. Definitely had a unique way of seeing things.” He chuckled. “And my God could he fuck.”
Ken looked amused. “Did I hear you right… you were a virgin when you met him?”
Dane made a face of acknowledgement and took a swallow of beer.
“As to how he died, well, that fuck Blent programmed his DNA to fail. I guess he just got more fragile over time. He was haemophiliac anyway. We were out on a cliff walk; his idea, not mine, and he tripped. Banged his knee. It wasn’t bad, but there was a bruise. I couldn’t get factor for him, because he didn’t officially exist, so we were just ultra-careful. But on our way back, he started to get light headed. And then he collapsed. Said he couldn’t see.”
Dane took another swallow of beer. His voice was matter-of-fact.
“Said his head hurt. We knew. We both knew. So, I just held him. And he died.”
Ken was silent, and Dane could see him processing this. He finished his beer and ordered them both another.
“How did you—”
“I carried him,” said Dane. “He weighed fuck all.” He ran a hand across his stubble. “I took him back to the car. Organised his funeral through friends of my dad’s. A few people knew about him, not many, but enough to take care of the necessaries.”
“You really cared about him, didn’t you?” said Ken softly.
Dane nodded and took another swallow of beer.
There was a glaze of sadness in Ken’s eyes as he looked down at his hands. “Sounds like he was loved.”
Dane drained his bottle and then said, “Oh, fuck yes. He was loved.”
Ken looked up, and his gaze was distant. “That’s nice.” His voice was so quiet, it was almost a whisper.
Dane resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hand. He wasn’t Kian, never would be. Kian, constantly needy for physical touch, drinking in every precious moment he had with Dane. Kian lying in a coffin, his energy silenced.
Ken checked his phone and got to his feet, scraping his chair back so fast it nearly unbalanced. “I’ve got to go.” He tossed a tenner on the table. “Thanks for the chat. Appreciate it.”
As he left, Dane frowned after him, certain he’d seen tears snaking down the other boy’s face.
❧ ❧ ❧
Sunday night. Drunk, Dane stumbled out of the bar. He swayed and leaned against the wall to steady himself.
“Fuck.”
“You alright, mate?” asked a guy, pausing to put a hand on his back.
“Yeah, fine, my cloned boyfriend just died.”
“Rrrriiiiight. Well. Take care of yourself, eh?”
The guy walked on, and Dane heard him mutter to his girlfriend, ‘On drugs,” by way of explanation.
Dane pulled his phone from his pocket and stared at it. He opened his contacts and looked at the list.
His mum.
His dad.
Kian.
He hovered his finger over the last in that list, and after a moment, pressed the ‘call’ icon.
The phone rang three times before the message kicked in.
“Hey baby, if you’re hearing this message, we both know I’m not around anymore.”
It was true. Kian hadn’t once failed to answer his phone in the time he and Dane had been together.
“Baby, I know you must be grieving, but we both knew this day was coming. I’ll be honest, I’ve felt it for a while now. Running down. Things inside me getting worn out. ‘The sun’s gettin’ real low’…”
There was a chuckle that made Dane’s heart ache. Kian, teasing him about behaving like The Hulk when he thought Kian was being threatened.
“This is my last goodbye. You can let this phone go now. You know I love you, and I’ll see you again on the other side. Not too soon though—you need to find Kenneth first. Live your life. Bring lots of stories with you, I don’t want to be bored in gay-clone heaven.”
Dane gave a wet, choking sob of laughter, as tears ran down his face.
There was a pause, and a sharp intake of breath. Christ, had Kian been in pain? Had it been that bad? If so, he’d never let on to Dane.
“Okay, baby, time to bring this to a close. Do what I tell you and make this the only time you listen to this message. It’s time to move on. Until we meet again… I love you so much. Now get out there and fuck someone who isn’t me!”
There was another chuckle, a loud smooching sound, and then the call ended.
Dane stood in stunned, miserable silence. The urge to listen to the message again was overwhelming. He wanted to memorise every single word. Every inflection in Kian’s voice.
At least, now he understood why Kian had insisted he be cremated with the phone Dane had given him.
His thumb hovered above the ‘call’ icon. He couldn’t. It would be disrespectful to Kian to ignore his final request. And, it was only temporary, wasn’t it? They’d see each other again, one day. Dane just had to keep going until his day came.
Choking back bile, Dane went into his call log and deleted the outgoing number, then went back into the contact. He held his finger over the ‘delete’ option. He had to do it. It was the only way he could be certain he wouldn’t just stand there listening to the message over and over again until the sun came up, or he got arrested for loitering.
He pressed the button.
_________________________
Delete contact?
This contact will also be deleted
from the account it’s saved in.
Cancel | Delete
_________________________
“You can do this,” he whispered to himself. “It’s what he wanted.”
Swallowing hard, he pressed ‘Delete’. There was a flash, and the contact disappeared as if it’d never been there. Unrecoverable. No undo. Dane couldn’t have remembered the number if he’d tried.
He slumped against the wall, feeling hollow. There was only one other recent contact in his phone. Should he…?
“Fuck it.”
He called the number.
“Hey—is that you, Dane? What’s up?” Ken sounded as if he was eating.
“What are you doing?” Dane words were slurred.
“Playing Fortnite and eating Doritos,” said Ken, crunching into what Dane assumed was a Dorito.
“Can we hook up now please?” Dane asked.
“What?” The chewing in Dane’s ear paused.
“Ah, can we hook up?” said Dane. “Please? I’m drunk.”
“And…?”
“And I really need to fuck you.”
Ken laughed. “You really need to fuck me? Well, how can I deny you, then?” He crunched another chip. “Where are you?”
Dane looked around. He looked up at the name of the club. “Outside Brevity.”
“Jesus, slumming it, aren’t we?” asked Ken. He sounded amused. “Can you get an Uber if I give you my address?”
“Sure,” mumbled Dane. “Text it to me.”
“Fucking drunky,” said Ken. “I’m about fifteen out of the city. See you soon.”
He hung up and a moment later, Dane’s phone vibrated. It took him three attempts to copy the address and paste it into Uber, but within minutes, he was in the back of a cab, wondering what the fuck he was doing.
❧ ❧ ❧
Ken’s flat was like nothing Dane had ever seen before. The whole place was decked out with darkness and LED lighting. It was like the interior of a gaming café. Blue lighting strips either side of the hall guided them down to the lounge, where the place was set up with a massive high-resolution screen in the centre that had to be seventy inches across at least, flanked by a couple of only slightly smaller screens.
Dane fell onto Ken’s couch with a creak of leather and stared around.
“You want a beer?” the other boy asked.
“Yeah,” said Dane. “Yeah.”
Ken paused. “Actually, you know what? No more beer for you, Drunky McDrunk. How about we get some coffee into you?”
“Beer!” said Dane.
“Christ, you’re a fucking caveman when you’re drunk,” said Ken. “And you’re getting coffee; unless you think you can stand long enough to fetch yourself a beer?”
Dane struggled to get to his feet and gave up. He leaned back into the couch.
“Coffee it is, then,” said Ken cheerfully. He whistled to himself as he disappeared into the kitchen to put the kettle on, then broke into a rendition of ‘Feel So Close’ by Calvin Harris.
Dane blinked as he looked around the LED-lit lounge. In addition to the massive screens that dominated the main wall, a couple of gaming rigs whirred away, their shiny component-filled interiors lit up like Christmas trees, while keyboards and a couple of mice slowly changed colour.
There was a stack of servers in a cabinet, which Dane suspected were busy mining crypto-currency, in what looked like a good ten to fifteen K’s worth of tech.
Everything in the room, it seemed, was designed to change colour.
Ken came back a short time later with a hot mug of coffee for Dane. As the other boy handed it to him, Dane pointed at the beer in his free hand.
“Yeah, nooo,” said Ken, “I’ve got some catching up to do. You sober up some, and I’ll work on getting off my tits, and we’ll meet in the middle.”
Reluctantly, Dane took a sip of his coffee, and made an appreciate face. It wasn’t half bad for instant.
“It’s one of those sachet lattes,” Ken said, noting his surprise. “You look like a sachet latte kind of guy.”
He dropped down next to Dane and rested one foot against his knee. “So. What existential crisis brings you to my door? Oh, and I have to say, the other day was a one-off. I don’t take risks like that. Usually.”
Dane frowned, wondering what he meant.
“Bareback. I don’t do it,” said Ken.
Oh Christ. Dane hadn’t even considered the risk he was taking, fucking Ken like that. Both he and Kian had been virgins when they’d met and wearing protection had never occurred to them. “I wasn’t prepared,” he mumbled.
No, he hadn’t been prepared at all. It’d not occurred to him for a second that he might shag Kian’s clone in the toilets out the back of a noisy pub on the day of his lover’s funeral.
“I mean, I get it,” Ken went on. “I look like him. You miss him. But I hope you’re not always that rough. I like a little care and concern, know what I mean?”
Dane did. He shook his head, growing ever more deeply ashamed by the minute. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Ken laughed. It was a light laugh, the laugh of someone who enjoyed life, and wasn’t bothered by much.
“Once in a while is fine, but if it’s going to be a regular thing; maybe a little lube wouldn’t go astray.” He patted Dane’s leg. “So. Do you still want to play ‘hide the sausage’, or do you want to talk?”
Dane was a mess of confusion. Half of him wanted to rage-fuck Ken again, to feel that release, to feel a hot body under him, to feel connected, somehow, to Kian again. The loss of his soulmate was a gaping wound inside him that ached, ached, fucking ached every second of every day. The pain would never stop, he was sure of it. It would grow inside him, a knot of twisted rage that would slowly eat at his insides until it crippled him.
But the other half of him just wanted to listen to Ken speak. Although his cadence and his words weren’t Kian’s, there was enough in his voice that Dane could close his eyes and pretend. Could press his denial against that gaping wound and hold back some of the pain, even for a short while.
Ken leaned across Dane to reach the remote control for the media player, and Dane caught the scent of his hair.
Holding his coffee still against the arm of the couch, Dane drew in a deep breath… and it was there. Kian’s scent. Not the engine-oil generator scent he’d worn when Dane had first met him, but his natural scent.
Ken placed a hand against Dane’s chest as he sipped his beer, and Dane put his arm around the him.
“Tell me about him,” said Ken. “Start at the beginning. Tell me who he was. Tell me why you loved him.”
❧ ❧ ❧
Dane wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep. He didn’t remember moving the coffee cup to the coffee table; maybe Ken had done it for him. But when he woke alone on the couch, he felt as if he’d run an emotional marathon.
His mind and his heart ached, and the cold living room and the silence of the lounge was the loneliest thing he’d ever felt. He threw an arm across his face as hot tears spilled down his cheeks, wracked with violent sobs that, supressed, thumped at the inside of his chest like a fist.
“Dane?” Ken stood in the doorway to the bedroom. He was wearing a t-shirt and briefs, his long hair spilling down his back. “Are you okay?”
Dane sat up. “Sorry, mate, didn’t mean to wake you. I should shoot off—”
Ken came to stand in front of him. “Don’t go. I hate seeing you in pain. Seeing anyone in pain, really, but you seem like such a nice guy. I’ve got heat if you want it.”
How did he know? Dane wondered. How did he understand so precisely what Dane needed at that moment?
Without another word Dane got to his feet, and let the other boy lead him into his bedroom.
Under the covers, Ken pressed himself back against Dane, and the feel of his body started Dane’s tears again. Ken said nothing, just let Dane cry against his back, and soon the dark-haired boy’s breathing deepened as he fell asleep in Dane’s arms.
Dane cried until exhaustion wore him out, and finally found sleep with his nose buried in Ken’s hair, willing himself to dream that Kian was back in his arms.
❧ ❧ ❧
Morning brought Dane a massive headache, and an equally massive dose of self-recrimination. His daily waking kick of grief was followed by a stab of guilt.
Christ, he’d come to this guy’s house, had poured out his soul, had slept in his bed and made him his confidant, all while mourning his dead brother.
And they’d fucked.
Dane didn’t want to remember that part. Taking Ken from behind, not as rough as the last time, and this time using precaution and kindness, but still, he hadn’t been fucking Ken, and the other boy had to know that.
Did he mind? It was hard to say. He hadn’t argued, and he’d seemed to enjoy himself, but neither of them had spoken a word during or after, just fallen back into the deep and dreamless sleep as soon as they were done.
Dane got dressed and went out to the kitchen to find Ken making bacon and eggs.
“You hungry?” Ken asked him.
Dane’s stomach answered for him. “Yeah.”
“Good. Because you’ve got the look of someone who’s not eaten much of late, and I don’t want you leaving here until I know you’ve eaten.”
Oddly enough, fucking the other boy seemed to be the only thing that gave Dane an appetite. It wasn’t the exercise, either. The sex was primal and perfunctory, the hurt animal in Dane reaching for anything that would offer it comfort. No. It was something else.
Dane sat down at the table, and Ken brought over a mug of coffee, before heading back to watch the bacon. As he cooked, he sang, and Dane found he liked it. It was cheerful. Ken was… happy.
As he mused on what it was about fucking the long-haired youth that gave him back his appetite, the other boy dropped a plate of food in front of him.
“Eat up, big boy.”
Dane chuckled as Ken grinned down at him. “Big boy,” he muttered as he stabbed at his food with his fork, shaking his head. “Mmhmm.”
“Yeah, and I’m not referring to you being a good head taller than me, either,” said Ken. He snagged a strip of bacon off Dane’s plate, and then went back to serve himself.
Well. Dane guessed that was always nice to hear, especially from someone far more sexually experienced that he was. Then again… Kian had been the kinky sort, and had wanted to try everything under the sun, so Dane had tried a lot of different things, at least. Even though he’d only fucked the one guy… well, two now—or did it still only count as one, if you fucked the same model?
❧ ❧ ❧
Dane called into work and told them he needed a mental-health day and chose to watch Ken work. The other boy worked from home, and while his mind was clearly on his job, he didn’t seem to mind Dane playing on his phone on the couch, and Dane was happy to fetch him drinks, and simply be in his presence.
Ken finally finished up in the evening and shut his laptop with a snap. He swivelled around in his chair.
“So. I notice you’re still here.”
Dane sat up guiltily. “Yeah. Is that okay?”
“Absolutely,” said Ken. “But now I need dinner, and I’m out of food. Want to head out to eat?”
Dane shrugged. “Sure.”
Ken ran his gaze over the other boy. “I know you’re in mourning, but do you think maybe a shower and a change of clothes might be in order?”
“What, do I smell?”
Ken’s expression indicated that he might. “Let’s swing past your place first,” he suggested.
“My parents… I live with my parents,” said Dane… but he wasn’t sure why that mattered—what the next sentence was that he hadn’t quite formed in his head. Was he concerned they’d see him with Ken and think he was trying to fill the void? Well, obviously. But they knew Kian was a clone, and they knew Kenneth existed. There was no reason not to introduce the other boy to them.
“Yeah. Let’s do that.”
“Great. I’ll drive.”
Even in the car, Ken sang with the radio. He had a good voice, Dane realised. Not the usual ‘singing around the house’ voice most people had. He sang in tune, and more than that, he didn’t sound that different from someone you’d hear on the radio.
“You have a great voice,” Dane told him. “Wish I could sing like that. I bet you kill at karaoke. How’d you get that good?”
Ken laughed. “School choirs growing up. Nothing as fancy as ‘Glee’, but I could always hold a tune.”
“Modest too,” Dane teased him.
“Oh fuck no!” said Ken. “Just easing you into the narcissism.”
Dane laughed. So, Kenneth wasn’t Kian. But he was fun. Easy-going. Nice to look at. Definitely nice to fuck.
“What are you thinking? Ken asked, as they pulled up outside Dane’s parents’ house.
“That we should fuck facing each other next time,” said Dane.
Ken grinned. “I’d like that.”
They both laughed as they got out of the car.
❧ ❧ ❧
At eleven, Ken checked his phone. “Hey, hate to be a downer, but I really need to get some sleep. I have an early start tomorrow.”
Dane looked up at him drunkenly. “Come ooooon, one more!”
Ken shook his head. “You’ve had enough, big boy. How about we get you home, eh?”
Dane shook his head. “Don’t want to.”
“Doesn’t have to be your home,” said Ken. “But I need to be asleep in the next hour.”
“I can come back to yours?” asked Dane. He knew he sounded needy, but fuck it. He did need something, and Ken could provide it. And the desperate animal in Dane that needed comfort overrode any shame he might have about asking for what he needed.
“Yeah, you can come back to mine. You’re low maintenance. But you get some clothes first, yeah? And a toothbrush.”
“K.” Dane gave him a childish grin.
“Fuck. Don’t give me that look. I’m not always going to be this accommodating,” said Ken. “But like I said, I don’t like seeing anyone in pain. So, yeah, if you need to pretend the world doesn’t exist for a few days, we can do that.”
Tears stung Dane’s eyes again. How did this guy know what he needed? How did he know? Was Dane really that transparent? He didn’t think he was, but then, maybe this wasn’t about him. Maybe Ken just had a knack for knowing what the people around him needed.
“Thanks,” he said, choking on the word.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Ken. “Besides, you’re a good lay.”
And just like that, Dane’s guilt evaporated. Ken could even do that. Make Dane feel he was giving something back, while he was doing all the taking.
❧ ❧ ❧
“I’m not sure I like this.”
Dane was sitting on the side of the bed, Ken posing in front of him with one hand on his hip in a typical ‘Kian’ pose. The object of his scrutiny was Dane’s sleeping attire.
Ken waved a hand at the offending clothing. “Is all this necessary?”
Dane looked down at his pyjamas. “You want me to take them off?” he asked.
The other boy nodded. “Very, very, much.”
Dane stripped, and Ken stepped between his legs, and in response, Dane put his hands on the other boy’s waist. Ken was wearing briefs and a band t-shirt, which seemed to be his ‘around the house’-wear, and Dane could clearly see the other boy’s growing appreciation for Dane’s nakedness in his tightly stretched briefs.
“You still on for face-to-face?” Ken asked.
Honestly, Dane wasn’t sure he was. He shivered, even as he slid his hands under the other boy’s shirt to caress his bare skin.
“Are you?” he asked.
Ken cocked his head. “I think we both know what I want is irrelevant.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dane. “Course what you want matters.”
“Dane… how can I put this?” He paused. “You know what, never mind. I’ll show you.”
He stepped in closer and straddled Dane’s thighs, effectively sitting in his lap, and Dane put his arms around him and closed his eyes.
He was Kian. He wasn’t Kian. He smelt like Kian. He felt like Kian. He made Dane’s blood run hot and the hair raise on his arms every time a jolt in his gut reminded him Kian was dead. He wanted him, loved him, hated him, needed him.
Dane’s arms tightened around the other boy, then moved to grip his arse. He got to his feet and threw Ken on the bed, covering the other boy’s body with his own.
Their lips met, Dane grinding against Ken, hungry, naked, horny, angry.
Ken kissed him back, meeting Dane’s ferocity with a calmness of his own, absorbing Dane’s carnal rage, as Dane fought back the urge to fuck his way inside the other boy, to tear him apart.
Somehow, and maybe it was lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of love, Dane realized he’d started to think of Ken as Kian’s prison. If he could open him up, peel him away, Kian would be inside, beautiful and full of love, and…
Dane burst into tears.
He rolled off the other boy onto his back and threw an arm across his face, his sobs shaking the bed.
Ken moulded himself against Dane’s side. “And that, my friend, is why what I want doesn’t matter. You’ve got demons, Dane, demons you need to get out of you any way you can. I can take it. I’m a man.” There was a grin in his voice, and it softened Dane’s grief and made him look up.
“Do what you want,” Ken said. “If I want you to stop, I’ll say ‘stop’, and you’ll stop.”
Dane wasn’t so sure he would, but the dark-haired boy sounded very confident.
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light. He died, and it wasn’t fair, and it’s okay to hate the world for that. For a while, at least.”
Dane turned his face away, tears falling down his face to soak the bed, an unquenchable tide of misery.
When the tears finally dried, like a tap shut off, or a well run dry, Dane pressed Ken against the bed and fucked him hard, the boy’s soft moans making him hungry and horny and bitter until the golden moment of release when Dane collapsed, emptied, a cold desert inside him.
❧ ❧ ❧
It was two days before he got out of bed.
As evening fell, Ken came into the bedroom. “Right, it’s time. Get up, shower, put on some clothes. We’re going out.”
Dane blinked at him groggily and rolled away from the light. “Go away.”
Ken got onto the bed and sniffed at him. “Ah, no. No, it’s time. You reek, and this is my bed.”
With an irritated sigh, Dane threw off the covers and got out of bed. He felt a full body weariness that made his legs shaky, his body heavy.
“I feel like crap,” he muttered, running a hand through his greasy hair.
“Yeah, you smell like crap, too,” said Ken, “And we’re going to fix it,” he said cheerfully. “Bathroom. Now.”
Dane made his way into the bathroom, avoiding his own reflection as he ran the tap and rinsed his mouth out with water.
Behind him, Ken rolled his eyes. “First up, brush your teeth. Then we shower. Then you shave. Then we find you a pair of underwear that doesn’t have two days’ worth of skid marks in it.”
Dane grunted, but he did as Ken said, brushing his teeth, and shaving his four-day growth back to smooth. Kian had always liked him to be smooth. It was habit now.
Ken handed him some shaving balm, and Dane spread it across his face. Once he was done, the dark-haired boy turned Dane’s head towards him and gave him a quick kiss.
“Yusss. Much better. Right, strip, and shower.”
Ken started to take his own clothes off, and Dane did the same. It appeared Ken really did intend for them to shower together, as he pushed Dane towards the shower cubicle, fetched some body wash, and then crammed himself in after the other boy.
Dane threw his head back, letting water run through his hair. The shower was washing off the shaving balm, but he didn’t care. The hot water was soothing. He opened one eye as he heard a bottle open and watched Ken squirt shampoo into his hand.
“Turn around.”
Dane did as he was told, and Ken spread the shampoo through his hair and massaged it in. “Feel nice?”
Dane nodded. It did. Shaving had taken nearly all his energy, so it was nice to just stand there and let the other boy clean him.
After shampooing his hair, the dark-haired boy started to lather Dane’s body with body wash, concentrating on his pits and crotch.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to shave here too?” he asked hopefully.
“Not on your life,” growled Dane.
Ken pouted. “You seem to like the look on me.”
Dane opened his mouth to speak, then stopped when Ken raised an eyebrow.
The dark-haired boy laughed. “Good choice.”
He carried on lathering Dane until every inch of him was clean and fragrant, then shut off the water.
“Right, dry off, and let’s go back into the world.”
❧ ❧ ❧
‘The World’ turned out to be a club called ‘2Spirit’, on the opposite side of town from the clubs Dane usually frequented.
The place was small, the inside of it lit red at the front where the bar and dancefloor were, and blue down the back, where tables and booths lined the walls. Ken took him up to the bar and ordered them both drinks.
the inside of it lit red at the front where the bar and dance floor were, and blue down the back where tables and booths lined the walls.
“What the hell is this?” Dane asked, looking at the tall glass of coloured liquid that was handed to him.
“A champagne cocktail. We’re going to expand your mind.”
“I’m fine, thanks all the same,” muttered Dane, but Ken just put a hand on his shoulder and guided him down towards the booths at the end.
“We’re meeting some friends of mine here tonight. We’re going to see if this is your tribe.”
“My what?” asked Dane.
Ken found them a booth, and Dane slid onto the seat opposite him.
Ken took a sip of his cocktail and sighed happily. He slouched back in his seat, looking very much at ease.
“Your tribe. From what I know of you so far, you’ve been trying to fit your peg into the wrong-shaped hole.”
Dane snorted, and Ken laughed out loud when he realised what he’d said.
“I didn’t mean it like that. But you need friends who understand you. Who you don’t have to explain yourself to.”
“And your friends will ‘get’ me, will they?” asked Dane. He took a sip of his cocktail and made a face. But then, as he had with the coffee Ken had first made him, he realised the taste was more pleasant than he’d expected. His drink looked purple in the blue light, which made him wonder if it was red or actually purple.
“It’s called a ‘poinsettia’,” said Ken. “It has cranberry and Cointreau in it. I thought I’d introduce you to the concept of ‘fruit’, since you look as if your body has yet to discover vitamin C.”
Dane snorted, and took another sip. It was nice, he decided. If Ken wanted to feed him these all night, he’d find a way to live with it.
“K!”
The man striding towards them made Dane instinctively rise to his feet. It was impossible for him to stay sitting when someone that massive was barrelling towards him.
The man, who looked like a body builder, with close-shaved hair and a jaw like a shovel, came to stand by their table. He put his hands in his pockets, and his arms bulged out of his fitting t-shirt.
Ken gestured to Dane. “Grant, this is Dane. He’s a new friend of mine.”
The pitbull in human clothing shook Dane’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Where’d you come from?”
Ken relaxed back in his seat and stirred his cocktail. “That’s a long story. Maybe let’s just pretend I picked him up in a bar.”
Grant looked confused, but Dane got the impression Grant spent a lot of time confused.
The huge man slid into the booth beside Dane, leaving Dane crushed against the wall, and as they sat, Ken leaned across the table.
“You’ll have to forgive Grant, Dane, he’s got testosterone poisoning. As you can see, it’s taken over his entire body. One of these days, he’s going to drink one too many protein shakes and explode in a mass of throbbing veins.”
Grant grinned and put his elbow on the table. “sounds like someone wants an arm-wrestle.”
Ken gripped his hand, and Grant slammed it into the table.
“Look at that, you’re very strong,” said Ken. He rolled his eyes while Grant laughed. “Ooh, and Miguel made it too!”
He got to his feet and the new muscle-bound man who approached their table picked him up in a full-body hug and squeezed him before putting him down.
Ken put a hand on the man’s bicep. “Miguel, you ever need those muscles of yours worshipped, you know where I live.”
“Ken, Jesus!” His accent made Dane think he was originally from somewhere in South America.
Ken slid back into the booth, and Miguel took a seat beside him. He wasn’t as massive as Grant, but he was still more muscular than Dane, who Ken insisted was a ‘jock’.
“Miguel, this is Dane. Dane, this is the hottest Latin body you’ll ever have the privilege of sharing this Earth with. He’s from Chile.” He said the word with a shudder and a flicker of his eyes.
“Ken, shut up!” Miguel blushed furiously as he shook Dane’s hand.
Ken put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Miguel here is, for some reason I can’t fathom, shy. I think it’s endearing.” He gave his friend a considering look, and Miguel gave him a look that had a hint of flirt in it. They’d definitely fucked. Dane could see it in their eyes.
Ken cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the table at large. “Right. Dane, tonight you’re meeting my favourite T’d up boyzz. Like you, they know what the inside of a gym looks like, and like you, they have all the manners of a porn star asking a hot girl on a date.”
Grant grinned, but Miguel looked miffed. “I treated you good!”
Ken patted his arm. “Yes, you did, dear, I’m just teasing. Now, who wants a drink?”
Both Miguel and Grant indicated that they did, and Ken crawled across Miguel’s lap to get out of the booth, heading for the bar with a sway of his arse.
“You’re a lucky guy,” said Miguel. “He plays all casual, but he’ll take care of you if you take care of him back.”
“I get that feeling,” said Dane. He didn’t mention that he’d been brutally fucking Ken to get over his ex. He didn’t think that’d go down well.
“So, what you lift?” asked Miguel. “You got some good definition there.”
“Benching ninety,” said Dane. “I got up to one-ten, but I kinda let it slip.”
“Ninety pounds?” said Miguel.
“KGs,” said Dane.
He jumped as Grant squeezed his bicep. “Not bad for a little guy.”
Little guy? Dane was six foot and weighed eighty-five kgs. Only compared to these two would he be considered a ‘little guy’. They must think Ken was a fucking wood nymph.
“Shift over,” said Ken, coming back with a couple of beers, and another cocktail for Dane.
Miguel moved to let him slide into the booth, and Ken slung an arm around his neck.
“If you’re very good, I might bring Miguel home with us one day,” he said to Dane. He looked from one to the other. “I think you’d both enjoy that.”
“I know you would, you fucking slut,” Miguel teased him, but it was good-natured, and got another grin from Ken.
For a while they chatted, Ken guiding the conversation away from himself, and towards the other three men’s interests. But while Dane was definitely more comfortable in the gym than on the dance floor, he was nowhere near as obsessed with his body as Grant was, and found the man to be rather one-dimensional. Miguel interested him more, and while Ken wasn’t wrong—the Chilean was very attractive—his size and good looks made Dane feel nervous about his own appearance.
Up until this moment, he’d been fucking Ken, trading on the relationship he’d had with Kian. It’d felt right, and he hadn’t questioned whether or not Ken would be into him. But Miguel… well. If Miguel liked pretty men, that wasn’t Dane. He’d always thought of himself as reasonably good-looking, but in a typical, normal guy way. Nothing special, but no major deformities.
What would it be like to fuck Miguel? Or would Miguel fuck him? Or would he be left watching Miguel fuck Ken? Would Miguel want him to suck him? How big would his dick be?
He shook his head. This wasn’t helpful, and he was missing what the other man was saying to him.
“You watch that Australian zombie movie?”
Dane tried to pull his mind back into the conversation. “New? Ah, yeah, I saw that, good. Enjoyed it.”
By the end of the night, Dane was exhausted, despite having spent the last two days in bed.
“Well boyzz, I’m going to take this hot little thang home, before he gets too tired to fuck me.” Ken got to his feet. Nice seeing you chaps. Miguel, let’s do lunch next week.”
After the goodbyes, Ken called a cab, and they headed back to his flat. To Dane’s surprise, while they’d been out, the whole place had been cleaned. Not only that, but the lights were on, rather than Ken’s usual preference for darkness, and the flat smelled fresh and clean.
“You got fairies?” Dane asked. “What happened?”
“Technically, this is a serviced apartment,” said Ken. “Well, when I don’t have a depressed lodger refusing to get out of bed.”
“Nice.” Dane was impressed.
“And, we have a gym, if you want to get back into your gym-rat ways.”
Dane laughed. “Christ, you seriously think I’m a gym-rat?” He flexed. “I’m not muscle-obsessed, I just like to be fit.”
Ken nodded. “Fair enough, fair enough.” He threw himself down on the couch and put on some music. He patted the couch next to him, and Dane joined him. “So, you’ve met the jocks of Brunswick. What did you think?”
“I think…” Dane chose his words carefully. “I think Grant is…”
“Dumb as a post?” finished Ken.
“Yeah,” Dane chuckled. “I mean, I’m flattered that you put me in the same category…”
“No, no.” Ken patted his knee. “Really, I wanted you to meet Miguel, but I didn’t want him to think it was a hook up. I mean… I wouldn’t have minded, but… I figured you weren’t there quite yet.”
Dane shook his head. No. He really wasn’t.
“That’s your outing for tonight. You want to watch a movie?”
Dane nodded, and Ken put one on the massive main screen. After a while, Dane shucked off his shoes and stretched out on the couch, his head on Ken’s lap. Ken stroked his hair absently, and Dane closed his eyes, letting the sound from the movie lull him as he fell asleep.
Sometime later, Ken’s voice sounded close to his ear, as the other boy leaned over him. “Time for bed.”
Dane pretended to be asleep, and Ken stroked fingers across his forehead. He let Dane stay there in silence, until he fell asleep again for real.
❧ ❧ ❧
Dane woke alone on the couch and found Ken had thrown a blanket over him. He waited for the kick of pain in his gut, and when it didn’t come, he got off the couch and joined Ken in the bedroom, wrapping himself around the other boy, warming himself back to sleep.
❧ ❧ ❧
Ken stretched and yawned. He glanced back over his shoulder at Dane, who was stroking his back.
“Well, I do declare,” he said in a sultry voice, “there’s a sexy-ass man in my bed.”
“Yeah?” said Dane. He was distracted, exploring Ken’s skin.
“Shall I take this t-shirt off?” the other boy asked. “Get it out of your way? –nngh!” He made a startled noise as Dane gripped fistfuls of fabric and yanked it over his head.
Dane ran his hands over the other boy’s body as he kissed Ken’s back, licking and biting. He pushed Ken flat to the bed and licked across his shoulder blade.
“No visible marks,” warned Ken, as Dane’s teeth closed against his skin.
“Shut up.” Dane put a hand in the middle of the other boy’s back, the muscles in his arm taut as he held Ken’s slim body against the bed. “Let’s get these off, too.”
He grabbed the waist of Ken’s briefs and pulled them down to his ankles.
Ken propped himself up on his elbows and looked back over his shoulders as Dane explored the creamy flesh of his arse.
Kian. Ken. Kian. They overlaid each other in his mind, a ghost within a ghost. He was hard for both of them. Dane would always be hot for this body, because he’d loved it. Loved it, hungered for it, would have died for it. For him. For Kian.
He moved down the bed and ran his tongue over Ken’s smooth arse, then licked all the way back up the youth’s spine to the back of his neck.
Ken sighed and closed his eyes as Dane nipped gently at the back of his neck.
“Lady’s choice,” said Dane. “What do you want?”
“Why don’t you surprise me and look at my face?” Ken said softly.
On all fours, Dane rolled him over and placed a hand flat against the other boy’s chest, pinning him there. It was an unmistakable gesture of dominance. Of ownership. Ken’s eyes were the colour of the Mediterranean ocean as he looked up at Dane in the morning twilight, his chest rising and falling under Dane’s hand, his pale body tight with anticipation.
“He’s inside you, isn’t he?” said Dane. “You feel it. I know you do.”
Ken shook his head. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’m just me.”
Dane froze, as an image flashed through his mind.
Back at Highfield, asking Kian if he was a hallucination;
“Am I you?”
Kian, his eyes half closed, stoned on Dane’s medication, his fingertips tracing Dane’s cheek; “No, you twat. I’m me.”
Dane sat back on his heels, a lump in his throat, and Ken propped himself up on his elbows.
“I know you miss him, and I look like him, and that must be… a hell of a mind fuck. But he’s not in here, Dane. Please, don’t look me in the eye and tell yourself I’m him. I’m not. I never will be. You’re only hurting yourself.”
Dane stared into nothing, swaying ever so slightly in place, unable to pull his thoughts into focus.
“I saw you,” he said, desperation in his voice. “I saw you touch him. I saw him go into you.”
Ken sat up and put a hand on Dane’s arm. “No. Sweetheart, no. I felt something. I think…” He sighed. “Christ, I was really hoping we could get to now each other a little better before I mentioned this, but… I think, somehow, I inherited his memories.”
Dane’s focus shifted to the other boy’s face. “Really? What do you remember?”
“Weelll, I could be pulling this out of thin air, but I distinctly remember the time that you spent seven hours playing what should have been an hour-long campaign in some godawful console, co-op, piece-of-shit game, because Kian kept picking up corpses and insisting on carrying them everywhere with him.”
Dane chuckled. “Fuck. Yeah, I remember that. He kept stacking them in the back of the Land Rover, and we got slaughtered every fucking time.”
And between attempts, they’d gotten drunker and sillier, until Kian was sitting half-naked in Dane’s lap, while Dane held a can of beer to his lips, so Kian could drag yet another dead NPC into the back of the Land Rover… only to die, all over again.
“You two… gotta say, a little strange,” said Ken.
“Are you sure it’s just his memories?” Dane asked.
Ken squeezed his lover’s arm. “I’m sure, it’s only his memories. But Dane, they are so, so precious. Like being handed a photo album you can step into. But… they’re his memories. Not mine.”
Dane shook his head, lost as to how to feel about this. Ken had Kian’s memories. Maybe all of them. Two years of memories. The guy he was fucking had his ex’s memories. He started to pull away, but Ken pulled him back.
“There is… one thing I remember, that might cheer you up right now. Do you want to see if I remember how to do it the way you like it?”
There was something in his eyes that made Dane pause. That look. That look! Ken might claim to be nothing like his clone, but Dane knew that look, and it bode very well for him.
With hunger in his eyes, he nodded slowly. “Go on, then.”
Ken changed places with him, directing Dane to lie on his stomach. Dane closed his eyes as the other boy began to run his hands down his back, and soon felt Ken’s tongue teasing his most intimate place. He shifted his legs apart to give his lover better access, and Ken’s fingertips grazed his sensitive balls, sending shocks of pleasure through him.
His building excitement was accompanied by the bittersweet memory of the first time Kian had touched him. How overwhelming it’d been to be touched by an ethereal being who, at the time, he’d thought was a hallucination. Something created out of his loneliness.
He let out a soft sigh as Ken’s tongue explored his flesh, running a hot, wet line up the divide between his cheeks, before sliding in further.
Ken kneaded Dane’s arse as his tongue made slow circles against his lover’s entrance, relaxing Dane into a state of slow-burning arousal.
Before, he’d wanted to fuck the Kian out of his new lover. Now, he wanted… well, to put it bluntly… to be fucked by him. But not yet. Right now, he was enjoying the prelude.
Ken kept coconut oil near the bed, and now he reached for it, dipping two fingers into the viscous liquid, coating them completely.
He drizzled more oil across Dane’s buttocks and massaged it into his lightly furred cheeks, then drizzled more into the boy’s crack, using his fingers and tongue to ease Dane open.
Dane groaned softly; it’d been so long since he’d had this kind of attention, and Ken knew even better than his counterpart what made Dane’s body come alive. After all, Dane wasn’t the only man he’d fucked.
“Fuck me,” he groaned against the bed, the pillow swallowing the sense of his words. “Fuck me!”
Ken ignored his urgent noises and went at his own maddening pace, his tongue caressing Dane’s hole as he slid two fingers in and out of his lover, grazing against the magic place inside Dane that made him moan uncontrollably.
Dane lifted his hips off the bed, so he could stroke himself, and without saying a word, Ken took more oil from the jar and slathered it across Dane’s balls, then pushed his lover’s hand out of the way and coated his dick for him.
That done, he turned his attention back to eating Dane out, while Dane groaned, his dick now slick and oily and pleasurably hard in his hand.
Feeling Dane was relaxed and horny as hell, Ken added another finger, beginning the real work of stretching his lover out.
Dane groaned, alternating between stroking his dick and pausing to adjust to Ken’s working him open. Soon, Ken was able to slide three fingers smoothly in and out, and the pillow under Dane’s face was damp with saliva from his constant noises of pleasure.
There was no doubt in Dane’s mind now that he was about to get fucked, in the best way.
He thrust into his hand, then pushed against the bed with both hands under his chest when he got too close, half-afraid he’d cum just from the thought of being fucked before Ken got anywhere near penetrating him.
Ken paused his licking, but continued pumping his fingers slowly in and out of Dane’s now relaxed passage, as he said; “You want me inside you?”
Dane let out an insensible groan. He clenched his hole against the other boy’s fingers as Ken stroked across his prostate, trying to get him to pause there, but Ken just laughed and slid his fingers out.
“How could I ever deny you, when I remember how much fun it is to fuck you?”
He pulled Dane up onto his hands and knees and ran a finger down the centreline of his muscular arse.
“Do you realise, you’ve never touched my dick?”
With a jolt, Dane realised it was true. Every time he’d fucked Ken, he’d taken his own pleasure without a thought for his lover’s enjoyment.
“Well, my friend,” said Ken, “today my dick is going to be touching you. A lot.”
With that, he slicked oil over his own hard seven inches, and positioned himself against Dane’s entrance. “Moan for me, baby.”
“Ooohhhhoooo, fuck,” said Dane, his head hanging between his arms. He pushed back on Ken’s cock, driving it further inside him, more than ready. He’d never been so expertly prepared for sex, never been so turned on.
“Wait,” he said. “Are you going to—”
“I’m tested,” said Ken. “And we both know you’re safe.”
For a moment Dane felt a stab of guilt as he was reminded he’d only had one partner, but it quickly burnt away as Ken started to fuck him.
“My hot, slutty jock,” said Ken, his voice a soft growl. “I’m never letting this arse get away.”
If it’d been anyone else saying these things, Dane would have been terrified. But Ken’s voice, and the hand that rested on his arse; so like Kian’s when he got lost in the throes of a good, hard fuck… it felt right. It just. felt. right. In fact, it felt amazing.
As Dane pushed back against him, Ken increased his pace, their flesh slapping together as he bottomed out, forcing Dane to use both arms to brace himself, or have his head driven into the wall by his lover’s enthusiasm.
“You’ve got an incredibly fuckable arse,” Ken growled, “and the muscles in your back are beautiful to watch. You’re like some wild creature impaled on my dick.”
Dane didn’t care what he looked like, as long as Ken didn’t stop ramming his arse.
Not that there was any danger of that. Ken was just getting started. As he thrust into Dane, he stroked his lover’s bunching muscles, enjoying the movement under his hands.
Dane lifted his head and panted as he let Ken do all the work, his pleasure building into a powerful urge to release the pressure in his balls.
“Oh, no you don’t,” said his lover, sensing how close he was.
Dane let out a surprised gasp as Ken slid all the way out of him, leaving him empty and needy. He didn’t have time to process what was happening before Ken flipped him onto his back. As the dark-hared boy knelt between Dane’s legs, Ken took hold of his glistening cock, and Dane obediently positioned himself so that the other boy could enter him again.
Ken pressed against his entrance, and Dane closed his eyes and threw his head back against the bed, waiting for his lover to start fucking him again. But when that subtle pressure didn’t change to the stretch of flesh to accommodate flesh, Dane looked up at him in confusion.
“If you want me to fuck you,” said Ken, “I need to see in your eyes that you know it’s me fucking you.”
Dane nodded quickly. He didn’t care, whatever Ken wanted. If he didn’t get the other boy’s cock back in his arse immediately, he was in real danger of having a ruined orgasm.
“Good boy,” said Ken, his voice loaded with satisfaction, and Dane’s balls throbbed. He was so close. He made a noise at the back of his throat, and his lover took pity on him and entered him again.
Dane gave his lover a look that had always driven Kian wild, and it seemed it worked on Ken too, as the other boy let out a noise of hunger and slammed into him, driving Dane into the bed. It was hard, animal sex, just the way Dane liked it, and Ken sure as fuck knew how to give it as well as he took it.
Ken paused to put a hand to the back of his head and pulled out his hair-band, releasing his mane. Then he pushed Dane’s legs back and leaned over his lover on his arms, his long hair falling around Dane’s face.
Dane lifted his head from the pillow and pressed his lips to his lover’s, and Ken moaned into Dane’s mouth as he fucked him, kissing him back hungrily.
His thrusts grew more urgent, and Dane knew his lover was close. Ken let out a loud moan, and his eyes squeezed shut with a look of fierce pleasure as he came deep inside Dane.
Dane thrilled as he felt the other boy fill him up, Ken’s hot load coating his insides, and put a hand to his own cock. He pulled Ken’s head down, devouring his lover’s mouth as he furiously jacked himself, while Ken’s cock stayed buried inside him.
With a loud groan of pleasure, it was Dane’s turn. He slammed his head back against the pillow as he came, coating them both with hot, sticky cum.
Both of them were sweaty and breathing hard as Ken slid out of him.
“Fuck,” said Dane. “That was amazing.”
But Ken said nothing as he sat back on his knees. Now they’d both had their release, his expression had grown serious.
“Everything okay?” Dane asked.
Ken’s lips parted, and Dane thought he might speak. But instead, the other boy patted Dane’s knee and got off the bed. He threw a towel to Dane and then,d without a word, disappeared into the bathroom.
Was he angry? Upset? As Dane cleaned himself up, he couldn’t help wondering what he’d done wrong.
A few minutes later Ken came back from the bathroom. He crawled across the bed to sit beside Dane with his back against the headboard.
“That was… very…” The dark-haired boy trailed off. Christ! Dane wished he’d just say it. Whatever he’d said, whatever he’d done, he didn’t want to fuck this up. His lover’s memories inside Ken’s head, mind-blowing sex… There was probably a third thing he was forgetting, but those two things alone were worth making an effort to hold onto.
Ken let out a long sigh. “We’ve done this before, haven’t we?”
Dane gave him a wary look. “What do you mean? You know we haven’t.”
“No. No, of course we haven’t.” Ken put a hand to his head. “Christ, you don’t know Deja vu until you inherit your dead clone’s memories and then fuck his boyfriend.”
Dane’s lips parted in a half formed ‘o’. “Are you upset?” he asked eventually.
Ken shook his head. “I just… you know, before this moment, I didn’t know how strongly I felt about you. And now… I don’t know if that’s how I feel, or how he felt.”
Dane slid his fingers along the edge of the duvet, fear creeping into his stomach. This was all about to go away. He could feel it. He should have known it was too good to be true.
“I need… I need to think,” said Ken. “If you don’t mind, I need some time to myself.”
Dane looked up, his fear growing stronger. “I didn’t mean to…” he trailed off. He had no idea what he might have done wrong, what he could apologise for that would make it all right. “I’ll go.”
He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, but before he could stand, Ken placed a kiss on his lover’s shoulder that made Dane close his eyes at the softness of it.
“I think you’ll agree, it’d be better for us both if I know my own mind.”
Dane sighed, and Ken patted his shoulder. “I’ll give you a text later on.”
Dane got dressed, his dread turning to misery as he buckled his belt and pulled on his t-shirt. He collected his things together, and Ken gave him a kiss goodbye. As the apartment door swung shut, Dane wondered if he’d ever see the other boy again.
❧ ❧ ❧
Dane spent the day walking through the city, browsing shops for things he didn’t want or need. He sat on a park bench and scowled at pigeons, and then stood at the edge of a murky duck pond and considered his reflection. None of it helped. None of it helped the fact that where he wanted to be was at Ken’s apartment.
As the afternoon wore on and it got colder, he pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and tucked his chin into the collar of it to stay warm as he wandered aimlessly. As evening descended, the gloom of it making him shiver. He felt so alone without Kian’s hand shoved in his pocket, or the other boy tripping him up for fun, or randomly kissing him as he walked along.
Night fell, and still his phone was silent. When his stomach started to rumble, he knew he would have to go home, back to his parents’ house. But first, he needed something to eat.
He found a cafe that looked out onto the street and ordered a burger, staring out into the night as he ate alone.
He realised that while he’d been in Ken’s bed, some of his grief had been pushed back. Now, like a nerve injury, it felt as if the damaged parts of him had gone numb. His mind slid away from images of Kian’s final moments and slid back to Ken’s mouth locked to his. Slid away from Kian’s last phone message, to hoping Ken would call him. Text him. Anything.
Ken wasn’t a replacement for the love Dane had known with Kian, but he was warmth in the darkness, a kind voice in a sea of strangers.
“Hey! Didn’t expect to see you here!”
Dane looked up, confused. He knew the voice but didn’t immediately recognise Miguel.
The muscular Latino took a seat at Dane’s table. “Hey, what are you doing sitting here alone?”
“Eating,” said Dane.
Miguel laughed. “Ken said he sent you away, and for the record, I told him he was an idiot.”
Dane looked confused.
“Send you away? You’re a honey.” Miguel gave him a smile along with a raised eyebrow, and Dane dropped his head, his face burning with embarrassment.
“I told him, tell him to come back! But he said he needs to think. I said, what’s there to think about? He let you go, maybe you don’t come back.”
Dane shook his head. He dropped what was left of his burger and wiped his fingers clean on a napkin.
“Did he tell you the rest?”
Miguel made a face. “He was cagey to be honest. He said something about you confusing him with your ex, and him not sure if you liked him or not.”
A slight skewing of what’d really happened, but Dane didn’t blame Ken for not trying to explain the whole clone thing to his friend.
“So… do you like him?” asked Miguel.
“Yeah,” said Dane. That went without saying. “He’s a good guy.”
“That’s not what I mean. Do you like him?”
Dane nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think so.”
Miguel clicked his tongue. “No, man, that’s not good enough. Ken has a big heart, and if he’s fallen for you, if you don’t like him back like that, you gotta let him go.”
Dane looked down at his hands. “My ex died recently. Did he tell you that?” He glanced up. “It’s been a month. Look, I can say with a hundred percent certainty that I really like Ken. Where that goes, I don’t know. It’s too soon. And I didn’t get the impression the future was that important to him either.”
“It’s not,” said Miguel. “Not usually. That’s why I’m concerned about this thing you got going. I think he’s fallen for you hard, man. And now he’s scared. I never seen him so scared.”
“So… how come you guys aren’t together?” Dane asked. “If you don’t mind me saying, you’re fucking hot.” Hotter than me, he thought.
“Ah, we fooled around some, but he’s never been one to settle down. He’s kind, you know, a lot of people like him ’cause of that, but not like he wants. Whatever he’s looking for, he didn’t find it in me.”
“So, he talked to you… what, today?”
“Yeah, man, on the phone for an hour.”
Dane blinked. Jesus. He couldn’t imagine talking on the phone to anyone that long other than his parents. “Talking about me?” he asked.
Miguel chuckled. “Among other things. Hey, man, I gotta go, I’m on my way to the gym. You want to come?”
Dane shook his head. “No, I gotta get home.”
Miguel scraped his chair back. “Well, I hope it works out for you two. I really do. He deserves someone decent, and you seem decent to me.”
“Thanks.”
Dane watched him go with a frown. He’d only known Ken now for a few weeks, had only spent a handful of days in his presence. No wonder Ken was concerned the way he felt was due to Kian’s memories being uploaded into his brain. Dane didn’t know how you’d start to pick apart something like that.
Make new memories, he told himself. Ones that mean something to him.
But he didn’t know Ken well enough yet to know how to do that. All he knew was that he didn’t want the other boy to lock him out of his life.
He went out onto the street and shivered down into his jacket. His phone was warm in his pocket as he closed his hand around it, and he pulled it out. Should he call an Uber or should he call Ken?
You should give him space.
Yes. That’d be the right thing to do. But the thought of going back to his parents’ house, to the room he’d shared with Kian, to that empty bed…
He sent a text to Ken.
‘Let’s talk this through. Can I come over?’
He knew it was pushy, but selfishly, he just couldn’t stand to go home. There was no answer, but as he was keying his address into the Uber app, his phone vibrated.
‘Only if you turn up under my window with a boom box.’
Dane grinned.
‘Any requests for the song?’
His phone vibrated.
‘Just bring Julian Casablancas and leave the boiled goose at home.’
Dane laughed out loud at the Lonely Island reference, then remembered he was in public and reigned it in.
‘I’ll see you soon then?’ he texted back.
A pause.
‘K’
Dane called an Uber and headed back to Ken’s apartment.
❧ ❧ ❧
Ken opened the door in a dressing gown.
“Bit early for that, isn’t it?” Dane asked.
“Don’t push it,” said Ken. “I don’t see a boom box in your hands.”
Dane grinned. He dropped down on the couch, and Ken sat next to him, his feet tucked up under him.
“So, I know I didn’t give you much time to think,” said Dane. “But I thought. A lot.” He swivelled towards the other boy. “I like you. I really like you. And it’s not just because you look like Kian, or you sound like him. Maybe that’s what made it easier to be around you so soon, but that’s not why I’m here now.”
Ken listened, his upper lip pulled between his teeth, and Dane could see raw vulnerability in the other boy’s eyes. He knew he had to be completely honest.
“You’re right, you’re you. You’re not him. You both share a kindness, and, you’re both funny as hell. And you’re hot, you really are—” Dane took Ken’s hand, and took it into his own lap. “But it’s something else. I just want to be around you. He was the same. I feel good when I’m with you.”
“Dane,” Ken said gently, “You don’t know much about me—”
“But I want to,” said Dane. “What I don’t want is for you to start thinking the thing that brought us together is a good reason to stay away from each other.”
Ken shifted up on his knees. “You’re not listening. Right now, you need to grieve, and I’m just… I’m going to get caught up in it. If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t care. I’d fuck you and feed you and wave goodbye when you were ready to go. But I can’t do that with you.” A look of frustration crossed his face. “And is that him, his memories inside me? Or is it because you really as special as… my mind, thinks you are?”
Dane gave him a cheeky grin. “Well… yeah?”
Ken rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Maybe. I mean, he thought so.”
Dane felt a twinge of pain and pushed it away. This was important.
“Maybe his memories are inside you,” he said, “but I can tell you one-hundred percent, I like you for who you are. For what I know so far. Will you at least see where this goes?”
Ken scratched the back of his head then pulled his hair tie out, letting his hair fall loose. It helped highlight the difference between him and the boy’s clone, and Dane wondered if it was a subconscious attempt to reinforce that difference.
“I… think,” Ken said hesitantly, “that it would be very easy to fall in love with you. And, I don’t want to do that if it’s a one-way thing. Fuck, I never… I never thought I’d fall in love, full stop.”
“I get it,” said Dane. “But what if this is how it’s meant to be?”
Ken frowned. “You mean, like destiny or something?”
Dane shrugged. “Or something. Look, I don’t believe you only get one shot—”
“Do not miss your chance to blow?” Ken said, and Dane laughed.
“I’m just saying, isn’t it worthwhile playing it through to the end?”
Ken dropped his head. “The end. Yeah. Dane, I have all his memories. I remember your face as he died. I remember how it felt to die in your arms. How…” he paused, collecting his words. “How can you ever love anyone that much again? How can I love you that much? I mean, he loved you, in a way I didn’t think was possible.”
Dane swallowed hard. Every time Ken gave him a new piece of information about Kian, it was like getting an electric shock. It left him stunned and confused, unable to process it.
“But then,” Ken went on, “How can I deny you the contents of his mind? One day, you’re going to have questions. And I can answer them. I just don’t want that to be the only reason you stick around.”
Dane squeezed his hand. “Through him, you know me. Through him, I know you. Part of you, at least. You have to know I won’t ever hurt you intentionally.”
“I also know that you are horrifically lactose intolerant,” said Ken, and Dane laughed again.
“Still embarrassing the fuck out of me, even from the grave,” said Dane. He pulled Ken towards him, and the other boy straddled him, sitting in his lap.
Dane put his hands on the boy’s waist and looked up at him. “I want to know you.”
Ken put his hands on Dane’s shoulders. “I want to know you too.”
“And, that’s about as fucking romantic-comedy as this shit gets,” said Dane.
Ken laughed. “Thank Christ, I was starting to worry I was dating Ryan Reynolds.”
“Deadpool?” Dane said hopefully, but Ken shook his head.
“Definitely, Maybe.”
“Haven’t seen it.”
“Lucky you.”
Ken leaned in and kissed Dane. “You want an early night?” He shrugged off his dressing gown, revealing he was wearing black satin pyjamas underneath.
Dane grinned. “I could be convinced.”
Ken got to his feet and caught Dane’s hand, pulling him towards the bedroom. “Then let’s get ‘Just Friends’ out of the way and skip right to ‘The Proposal’.”
“Haven’t seen them,” said Dane.
Ken grinned. “Deadpool it is.”
❧ ❧ ❧
References:
•Lonely Island — ‘Boombox’ ft Julian Casablancas (total hottie in that video)
•Lyrics quoted from Eminem ‘Lose Yourself’ (you only get one shot, do you not miss your chance to blow, this opportunity comes once in a lifetime…)
•Ryan Reynolds’ terrible romantic comedies (no, I haven’t watched them, either) — Deadpool ftw.
•Title ‘Against the Dying of the Light’ taken from ‘Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night’ by Dylan Thomas