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    Fishwings
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

I'm Not From Earth - 8. Eight

e i g h t

Rover screamed like he'd never screamed like before. He screamed like Mariah Carey at her worst.

And for some crazy reason, as he was falling, he knew that he was screaming like a dying dolphin and felt perfectly justified in doing so.

The wind filled his ears and his mouth; the city rushed by in a whirl of neon. His stomach was a hurricane. In the short moments of the free fall, despite his explosive terror, the boy -- still with his arms wrapped tightly around Rover, growled into his ear, "Just calm down."

Rover almost stopped screaming. Indignation overcame the fact that he was plunging down to his death, and he was almost able to make a smart comeback. But that moment passed, and everything was a blur again. Traffic roaring -- colours swirling -- rapid panting -- heart in mouth --

-- then with a neck breaking jolt, it all came to a stop.

If Rover hadn't been holding on so tight, he knew he would've have broken something from stopping so quickly. Trembling, he peeled his face from the boy's chest and looked down, immediately regretting his decision. They were still far from the ground and were dangling, supported by the stranger's left arm, which was gripped tightly onto the railing of a balcony, far down from the club. Amidst the nausea, Rover was aware that he was fixed in a firm body lock around him. Then it sank in.

The boy had caught the railing as they were falling!

Rover felt like he was going to pass out.

"Well," the boy said, holding back a laugh but unable to stop himself from breaking into a dazzling smile, "I didn't introduce myself. My name's Slade, and you are very welcome."

A whirl of motion, and they rolled over the railing and onto the metal floor of the balcony. Dazed, Rover opened his eyes, blinked in confusion at the green eyes staring straight at him -- and picked himself up hastily when he realized that he had been sprawled on top of Slade.

"And your name?" Slade asked lightly, sitting himself upright.

Rover stared. "It's Rover," he growled, "and thanks for almost killing me."

Slade rolled his eyes. "We weren't going to die, Abercrombie."

Rover blinked incredulously, at a total loss for words, and he must have looked comical for Slade grinned again. Despite himself, Rover couldn't help but notice how Slade's smile broke through his dark demeanor. The cruel expression that seemed to belong to some serial killer disappeared as if it was never there. The smile made him shine. He looked like a little boy, pleased with himself for sticking a kick me note on a teacher's backside. His slim eyes let the world inside his sparking soul, the broad set of white teeth glowing, a perfect dimple stretching deep in his left cheek.

He wasn't just impossibly beautiful -- he was so impossibly cute.

Not to mention totally sex-able.

Even if he was rather deranged.

"So," Slade said, spinning so he was directly in front of Rover, "since I saved you from the goons upstairs, and I saved your life when we were falling, you owe me an explanation."

Rover wanted to comment on the saved your life part, but bit back his angry retort when Slade's words caught his attention. "What?" He asked.

"Who were they?"

The question was innocently poised, and although Rover saw no harm in answering, he also saw no need. "Why does it matter to you?"

"I'm asking the questions."

"And I don't want to answer." Rover scowled. "And you can't make me, 'cause you suck at negotiating. You have like, no knife or whatever, to begin with."

Slade let a slow smile creep into his face, letting his thick lashes veil his green opticals -- unintentionally sexy -- then said, "who said I needed one?"

Rover frowned, deciding whether or not he was more turned on by Slade's bluff or his attractiveness, but then quickly dismissed both thoughts. He stood up. "You know what? I'm gonna like, go now. Thanks again for almost killing us both. But uhm, it was uhm, nice meeting you and all. Good night." He turned around quickly, searching for a quick way out, but a scan told him that there were no staircases of any sort around.

They were trapped in some random stranger's balcony!

"You could always knock and politely ask to use the front door," Slade suggested.

Rover bit his lip, turning to glare angrily at the darkened glass door, wondering how he would react if he found a pair of teenagers sitting on his balcony in the middle of the night, knocking and asking for a way out.

"Or," Slade said evenly, "you could also ask me politely to escort you down the building the rest of the way."

Rover was quick to respond. "Thanks, but I'll knock."

Slade rolled his eyes. "Alright, then, my Abercrombie friend. You have a good night too, sir."

Rover shook his head. He couldn't believe he was in this stupid predicament. He blinked. Slade was gone.

Vanished. Did he jump again? Rover rushed to the side of the balcony, but could see nothing. How could someone disappear so fast? Was Slade some kind of ghost?

Uneasy but deciding to dismiss his thoughts, Rover walked straight up to the glass door, pausing only briefly before knocking. He waited, and knocked again, his heart pounding and his face flushed in embarrassment, all the while searching with squinting eyes for a light to shine in the dark house. Nothing.

Waiting for a whole minute, he rapped again, this time even harder, but there was absolutely no response of any sort. No voices, no nothing. Rover began to worry, and he tried the door, but of course it was locked. He reached into his pocket, feeling for his cell phone, hoping that it was charged, then he cursed when he remembered that he had left it at home.

Rover felt like screaming.

"Hey."

Rover started and whirled around, finding Slade leaning against the railing, as though he had never left.

"How did you..."

Slade grinned. "So why you still standing there? You changed your mind about knocking politely?"

There was a pause, in which Rover felt inclined to verbally disagree with him, but didn't physically. It wasn't just his because of Slade's looks, either. There was something about him -- ridiculous as though it sounded to himself -- something that could be trusted. Rover wasn't sure what. Be it something in his voice, or something in his eyes, there was something about him that was more than hypnotic. Something that was more than alluring, and something that had Rover saying yes, I can in his mind after every request Slade voiced.

"Yeah, I guess I could ask you," Rover sighed. He succumbed to his inner yes voice but also hoped that he wouldn't regret it later. If there was a later.

"With pleases and thank yous?”

"With extra sugar on it," he growled, the words raggedy and hard as they reluctantly left his throat. He felt just as deranged as he thought Slade was.

Slade chuckled at Rover's forced apology, but his smile seemed sincere. "Guess you're less Abercrombie than I thought." In one swift movement, he had his arms around Rover. And once again, despite his nervousness, Rover felt himself subconsciously leaning into the embrace. They tipped over backwards, and with a shuddering lurch, gravity took over once again.

The fall was just as unpleasant as the last one, but Rover didn't do any screaming. He wasn't exactly terrified, because he had a gut feeling that Slade would lead them both down safely.

And he did.

They landed, much softer than the previous fall. Rover only felt a mild jar roll through his body, but he saw that Slade's legs and feet took the brunt of the impact. Or not, he thought after a moment, wondering where the cables that should be attached to Slade were. Rover dislodged himself, and stepping back. After making sure that he wouldn't fall over, or double up retching, he thanked his rescuer awkwardly.

"No problem." Slade said, sweeping his hand in a salute.

"So like," Rover asked, blinking, still slightly flustered from the drop, "how do you go jumping off buildings? Are you a magician or something?"

Slade raised a long eyebrow. "No, I'm not a magician. And even if I was, I wouldn't tell you how I did it." And he quickly changed the subject. "So where are you going?"

Rover frowned, and although he itched to know how the boy pulled off such a stunt, he managed to bolt in his questions. "I'm staying over at a friend's apartment."

"You know what it's is called? I know downtown quite well, maybe I can help."

"Uhm... Pinegrove Alcove." Rover bit his lip. "But uhm, I don't know which street it's on."

Slade took a moment to think. Then he nodded and asked, "brown painted cement walls? Shale rooftop? Twenty floors? The words Pinegrove Alcove in gold?"

"Yeah, that'd be it."

"Alright, it's not a quick walk from here, and if you don't want those... goons catching up to you, then we better hurry."

Rover nodded and opened his mouth to answer, but a wave of dizziness washed over him and he felt his knees shake violently. He hadn't realized how tired he really was.

"You alright?" Slade asked, and his voice sounded mute and obscure.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Rover replied, but even as his said it, he saw his vision flicker, the shades of Slade's pearly complexion bleeding out into the streetlights.

"Rover...?"

He grasped weakly at his side, feeling the warm wetness of blood with a soft groan of surprise and realization, before his stance gave away and his knees hit the cement sidewalk. The imprints of two green eyes, glowing with panic and worry, were the last things Rover saw before the world fell in on itself and all he saw was darkness.

    *
 

It'd be really awesome if you dropped in and said hello in the discussion thread! http://www.gayauthor...not-from-earth/

Or if you left a review. Feedback is fuel!

I just realized that I really hate HTML tags.

Copyright © 2011 Luc Rosen; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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