Young Writers Society

Week 35 - Lagrain - 9.2 - 1153 words

He continued to stroke his fingers through Oisean’s hair, untangling any knots by rubbing the fibers together. His employer (his mark) nuzzled further into his chest with each moment that passed between them. There was much that they could share. His own experiences of pining after something that wasn’t available might even be helpful to Oisean. It was just that simple matter of translating his thousands of years of alien existence into something a distraught statesman could take on without questioning his world view.
If only Oisean could know just how much Lagrain understood that feeling without the toils of translation. What this man had suffered through in the past five years could just barely begin to stack up to the pain that he had known. Those last few minutes of life, when he and Haller were wrapped together in a tapestry they had ripped off the wall of the temple…that was not nearly enough comfort to prepare him for what would happen next.
The feeling of waking up alone in what he initially thought was the warrior’s afterlife turned out to be the first of many disappointments. He had never held the same faith in the other side that he witnessed in his partner. Haller was of a different generation than himself. Their age difference, even adjusted to their equivalent human ages, had been scandalous in and out of their society.
In the time before their relationship had begun, Lagrain found himself often feeling that he was the schoolboy crushing on the teacher that would never have him. He had never thought it appropriate to tell this comparison to Haller lest the man decide to break off their careful relations. It was bad enough that their relationship literally took on the cliche of adult materials wherein a secretary begs for pleasure over the desk of their employer.
The federation (particularly) had not taken lightly to the idea of two liaisons exchanging information in a manner that was outside of the agreed treaty. No where in a liaison’s job description does it say that you should lay with or laze on the bed of your associates. Besides, they rarely had the occasion to discuss state secrets when they were in bed. The pair had always been far more concerned with seeing who could last the longest or any other number of arbitrary games that devoted lovers might play.
Love being the key root of the term lovers. All that they’d had in that world had been each other. For Lagrain, solitude had come largely by choice. He was of the time when it had been perfectly acceptable for people to show emotion with others. It was just that he had never been one to show much enjoyment until he had begun to do things with Haller. All of the simple things, things that his peers may have scoffed at, instantly became more interesting when Haller took an interest in them.
The more he reflected on it, it was no great exaggeration to say that he and his husband only had each other to show for their efforts in the world. Haller had no family to speak of and Lagrain had very few of his own. Most of his had died before or just at the time of his birth. And the ones that were still alive, his parents included, hadn’t been anyone that he had ever wanted to know.
The events of the last great war of their planet that led to the Federation takeover and Lagrain being trained to be the soldier from the beginning of his life. Maybe that was why he was still on this pathway of completing the most emotional tasks in a purely logical, cold manner.
Haller had been a born soldier too. Or more a prophesied soldier. One man from a long line of planet protectors who had been allowed to stay on in diplomatic fashions when the Federation treaty was finalized. That had been the official reason for why the man might need a secretary. Not that the Federation had wanted Lagrain to watch each of their movements and determine if the man had the power to start another revolution.
It took less than an hour of observation to determine that they did. Haller, if they had been willing to do so or had a care for it, could have convinced the entire planet to rid itself of the parasitic Federation. They could have likely led the planet to a victory in this action and still had enough daylight left to go fishing after taking their tea.
For a long time, a very long time, he had been confident in his knowledge that Haller had found no one else. It wasn’t hard to look at the other reaper, well known for leaving behind a string of broken hearts, and remember the days when he thought he would just be another mark in Haller’s record. Never could he have imagined the tenderness that had allowed his husband to take him to the ancient tea shops of their home city. Nor propose to him beneath the skeletons of trees that had long since died but represented the world that Haller had emerged from.
It was so easy to get lost in the memory of the first time that Haller had accepted his offer of something more. The first time his head had hit one of the stuffed pillows on Haller’s bed and his skin came alive for the first time in his life. They were both adults. They had both clearly experienced the pleasures of the flesh before that meeting in their bed. But it was magical for the both of them. It had been all that they needed to create an unbreakable bond between them. One so strong that Lagrain could not give up on his hopes of reigniting his undying love for the only man that he could ever love.
He must have drifted off, for quite some time, in those comfortable thoughts for when he awoke the moon was shining through his window and there was an uncomfortable pressure on his bladder. Oisean had barely moved from his position on his chest. The only difference was how the man now shuddered slightly in the cool breeze coming through Lagrain’s open window.
Perhaps he was becoming soft, he thought to himself for just a moment. Because he felt a need to do something at the sight of seeing Oisean curled beside him, fingers grasping at his tunic, and shivering induced goose pimples rising from his skin.
He felt perhaps that it was his duty as a protector to rise from their bed. To fasten the window so that it might not blow open again. To wrap Oisean in one of the country made quilts that laid at the bottom of the bed and take care of the man until he returned to his normal temperature.

Week 36 - Lagrain - 9.3 - 1096 words

Suddenly feeling. There was a warmth in lying in this bed that he had not felt for a number of years. Unlike Haller, and he knew Haller had done such things, he had rarely found the need to lay with any one else. There was little room for carnal pleasures on the path to knowledge that would help one understand the universe.
There was something else rising in his chest too. Another unknown. Or more, something that was once known, but had floated to the back of his memory. Suddenly caring. Caring about something more than the work. More than his attempts to reclaim what had passed him by with the endlessness of soul collection’s eternity.
He really did find himself caring about the well being of Oisean. Gently - incredibly gently - he extracted himself from the hold that the other man had on his waist. Without thinking, purely out of some left over romantic reflex, he brought his lips to Oisean’s forehead. He smoothed out the sweat soaked hair and placed the man’s hands back in a gentle position on his chest.
Lagrain became aware of his disheveled state as he stood in front of the open window. His shirt hung completely out of his pants and the lacing was undone on their front. It was something that must have happened as they tossed and turned together in the bedsheets. He turned about from his position at the window, just now looking back at the bed.
Something in him began to be worried about the way things looked. Just as there had been that concern of the door being unbolted when they had initially laid down on the bed. In the time that he had originally lived in, there had been distorted views, but nothing like what he had seen upon this planet. Not the way that humans hated each other for trying to bring love to one another.
It was absolutely incredible that he should now be feeling all of these things that he had begun to think of as foreign. Suddenly showing some element of sentiment. Being here in this room gave him some understanding to Haller’s recent ramblings about becoming human. In him, some of this feeling was growing. Some semblance of being able to pass as another mortal being in this portion of the time and space continuum.
If he stayed here, if he allowed himself to get back into that bed, then his entire mission would be jeopardized. There would be no way for him to ensure that the job would be done if he returned to the warmness. The all encompassing warmness that came from another being’s grasp and not from the action of re-lacing your own trousers. Though, he thought in a rude sort of manner, he might have felt that same warmth if it were Oisean who was just now rearranging his clothing.
Lagrain knew, well really he rather imagined, that he was still a fine looking specimen. He gazed at his own image in the looking glass as he ignored the shapeless tie around his neck. It was indicative of his character, but it was nowhere near the level of expression that he had grown accustomed to in his life.
Plainness.
Blandness.
Monotony.
They were all elements of his being that the military had spent thousands of hours drilling into him with. Only for Haller to spend thousands of more hours removing the scars of their processes. While Roque, still, had no desire to wear color in their own clothing, they had always insisted that Lagrain should let their true expression shine through.
“Lawrence?” Oisean’s already nervous voice shook more as he heard his name rise into the room. His bedmate had caught sight of his dressing, evidently alarmed at the action. “Where are you going?”
Where was he going? What foolish idea was his running off after now? Would it really hurt him to stay here a few hours more to save someone else from hurt?
He could see the edge of Oisean’s face in his looking glass. It shouldn’t have surprised him how much he was effected by the worrisome lines in the other man’s face. Lawrence stopped the motion of gathering up the tie around his neck. If it were he laying in the bed, just suddenly awoken by someone else moving about the room, he would think he would be more concerned about other things. Like how he had slept so soundly that he hadn’t notice the other person moving about.
But then, as he reminded himself many times, he was not human. And he certainly was not this human. He made his way back over to the bed, this time sitting down on the side that Oisean was taking up. It was entirely out of control when his fingers brushed through the man’s hair and began to trace a line down his cheek.
“I was just getting dressed so that I might feel motivated to a bit of work. We have so much to do and you were sleeping so beautifully.”
As his pointer fingers neared Oisean’s lips, the other man shifted so that the digit was being sucked beneath his tongue. Lagrain was continuing to make the attempt to control his composure. To not let in to any of the desires or obvious pleadings or the distraction that he might be for another. He let his informal bedmate illustrate his oral skills on the rudimentary model. All the time ignoring how it was making him feel in other regions of his body.
“Won’t you please stay here with me, Lawrence? Just for a few more hours. I don’t want to be alone when the sun comes up on this town tomorrow morning and we are nearly to that horizon.”
There was just something about the request that he couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t at all like the pleading that he had become accustomed to in his line of work. Reapers didn’t take very long to get over the feeling of dread that overwhelm a normal being when a poor soul was begging for its life.
Quite literally.
This was the terrible thing that you are letting happen, he thought to himself as the temptation of the bed grew further. He found himself all too easily being drawn in by the warmth of Lord Oisean Bridger and being entirely satisfied when the man resumed his position on his chest.
This time, with the door securely bolted, they fell back asleep together with a renewed sense of peace and a growing presence of warmth.

Week 37 - Monty - 10.1 - 1077 words

“What of the police? And of their questions?”
Monty heard his own words bounce back to him in the silence that had fallen between the two men. The chief concern for him was the questions that might come for the the sort of relationship that they had.
Before yesterday, before they were set in motion by the pressures of the universe, there had been no such relationship. There had been, at most, an understood friendship. One taking place between two men who had similar priorities and preferences. Monty could speak of his treacherous experiences and Haller would sometimes contribute something from their history.
Though, as Monty sat there examining their past conversations, it was mainly a series of one-sided complaints. While Haller had had a number of dalliances in the past, they had never seemed to experience a serious, long-term relationship. Or at least, they never revealed such a relationship to Monty’s awareness.
“What of the police, indeed. I wonder why you worry so much about people that will barely impact our existence.”
It enraged him that Haller said it so casually. In that moment, Monty had never been so aware of Haller’s lack of knowledge of the world that they lived in. He stood up quickly, taking himself away from his seat on the bed and retreating to the middle of the room.
“Why do I worry? Why must I worry about petty little human matters like being executed for my sexual preferences? I know that you are still on this journey to finding yourself as a mortal being, but surely even you can understand the gravity of this situation.”
At first, he found himself wanting to rush to the window, but knowing Haller, the man would only accuse him of further dramatics. He had no need to be subject to the, admittedly good natured, joshing that his partner often offered up during periods of stress.
“Monty,” Haller slowly said, pushing themself up on their pillows until their eyes were at a more even height with Monty’s own. “Monty, there’s something that I can offer you. I don’t offer it lightly, but I also don’t wish to see you worry yourself until your spirit escapes from your body.”
Monty didn’t know what to say to that. A million thoughts were running through his head as he tried to determine what Haller could offer up to him. What could possibly make him feel comforted from the looming threat of police prosecution.
“What sort of something can you offer me, Haller?”
The other man only sighed at him. Perhaps in disgust or perhaps as part of their own thought process. Monty gently tapped one of his boots against the carpet, thinking only too late about the marks that he might be making on the material.
So, now here you stand, burning a hole in the carpeting as you gaze upon the man who makes you happy in ways you didn’t know were possible. This he thought to himself once again, remembering only too late that Haller might be able to hear him. That was another thing that would have to be answered for once Haller was in such a state to explain their otherworldliness.
“There are many things about my being that I have not explained to you. That I could not begin to explain to you until I was bound to you in such an eternal way…”
“Do you mean to say then, Haller, that you could not tell me the proper truth until you got your leg over mine? Did you want to make sure that my heart was locked in place before you decided to reveal all of the mysteries of the universe?”
Monty threw his hands in the air in frustration of the direction of their discussion. He could understand why, in the beginning, Haller would not have told him of their true identity. But surely - surely - even before they got to the moment of sex. When they knew each other so intimately. Surely somewhere within all of those intimate moments where they got so close to being one…
There must have been something in all of that time that could have worked as a better moment than this.
“I will not explain everything to you at this moment, but I will give you a brief understanding of what I am. My business, as you may have been able to guess from the entirety of my black clothing and my cache of weapons, is the collection of souls. I devote myself to my work in ways unlike others in my industry.”
Monty didn’t know what to do but nod. He was still tapping his booted foot against the carpet, but had now added a finger tapping along the edge of his jaw.
“I was sent to this planet about thirty of your years ago to begin dealing with the aftermath of human wars. In those thirty years, I built an unbreakable identity for myself. Something that has, more or less, allowed me certain escapes from many of my career duties.”
“But they asked you to do something recently, didn’t they? That’s why you so suddenly decided that a more forward advance was necessary?”
He watched how the other man was watching him. Monty would never begin to pretend that he could beat Haller in a game of wits, but he may be able to do so when it came to reading emotions. Haller was searching for something - likely words - and it clearly showed on their face.
“They asked me to, well eventually, reap your uncle. I got the notification of it quite recently and it was rather alarming. If not for the execution yesterday, I likely would have tried to push it off for as long as possible.”
“For your care for me? Or is that a good enough reason?”
As the conversation began to drag on, Monty realized that he was working Haller into a terrible lather. His partner was already ailing and he had failed to notice the way that his statements had been alarming the other man. He gave up his dramatic pacing in the middle of the room, rushing back to Haller’s bedside. Fists unclenching as he moved his fingers to brush away the stress that had fallen over his lover.
“Hal, my love, rest yourself or this fever state will overtake you. I’m sorry that I troubled you with the thoughts of what the investigation might do to us.”

Week 38 - Monty - 10.2 - 1129 words

“You do not need to act as if I am a spring flower about to succumb to the intensity of the summer sun. I know that you worry about me, and I am happy to have someone who worries about me, but this is a conversation that we must have.”
Monty looked at them, knowing a puzzled expression must be crossing his face. He thought for a moment about what Haller must be telling him. That there was something so important to be discussed here that the other man would risk their own health to complete their thought. Still, Monty had questions. He began by asking a simple question.
“Wh-”
The first sounds of the word had no sooner left his mouth when Haller interrupted him.
“We must talk about this issue before we allow the questioning of those investigators. We must,” Haller paused, pushing themself further up against the headboard with a cough and straightened their pillows into another, more comfortable position. “We must determine that we are both standing on even footing of understanding before we proceed.”
“I believe that I understand you, Haller. And I know that I will want to be with you. No matter the possible consequences that I am facing by allowing inquiries into my present life.”
They were coming back to the uncomfortableness of knowing the dangers of their respective lives. That was the first point of understanding that they had to reach. At least, that’s what it was in Monty’s own point of view.
“I do not want you to think that I don’t understand the dangers of this world, my dove. Do you forget how many mortal years I have been living out as a fellow with tastes as my own?”
They extended a hand to Monty, grabbing back his wrists and pulling them together. He fell into Haller’s chest with an audible thump. There were so many questions that he wanted to ask as his love. So many possibilities of the universe that could be answered by the knowledge that this beautiful man held inside their head. He stilled his thoughts though for this was Haller’s time for an explanation. Monty had begged to understand the otherness of the world and it would be rude to interrupt such an oration.
Haller’s slender, scarred fingers carded their way through Monty’s hair. It was almost a shame how easily this man could distract him from the importances of life with a simple spell of touching. In a low voice, just barely visible, clear with signs of cracking, Haller resumed their thoughts.
“At any time, among all that there was in creating a character, I could have forced myself to be an acceptable man in their god’s eyes. You know me to live the life of a bachelor and be associated with no attraction to any who have thrown a hat or handkerchief in my direction.”
At this, Monty could not resist to keep his silence because a rather finely worded joke came to the front of his mind.
“Yes, it is rather impressive to see those western frontier women tossing their straw hats at you while those fine boys fish around in their pockets for a stiff handkerchief.”
Monty shifted in his position against their chest so that he could look up to see Haller’s face. The other man was badly containing a growing smile. He knew that is was improper to temp them into playfulness. The pair of them would get nothing accomplished if they were to continue on in their usual fashion. Much similar to the months of luncheon they had taken under the guise of business, but no transactions were ever discussed in the public houses.
“No matter what it is that most of one sort or another might toss at me, it was most impressive for you to toss your entire person in my direction. That is the sort of attention that I have never experienced in my entire life on this planet.”
“And what did you think of such a display of mine, Hal?”
“I thought it to be most impressive. A stark reminder that you are in fact a peacock with beautiful plumage and not the peahen waiting to be attended to with her dimly lit feathers. Not like that silly woman that your mother thought you should be taking up with as a disguise to your true nature.”
Monty sighed at the thought of his own attempts, or more his mother’s attempts, to take up the lifestyle of the happily married man. He had been happily married, in a sense at least, to a politician in Norfolk. It might not have been recognized in the eyes of the court or to the Christian god, but it was certainly a marriage. In all aspects including the number of arguments about home furnishings and the cost of eggs in the market.
“It was not as if I had told my mother of our courting when you happened to see me in that restaurant. I should have liked you to see the expression on Miss Worrow’s face after you stormed out of the establishment.”
If it were not for Haller’s occasional reminders of Anne Worrow, Monty would have happily forgotten her to the slew of his mother’s matchmaking attempts. His mother always did things with the best of intentions. Moving out here to the territory to be with her brother, his uncle, was one of these many good intentions. Five years ago, all it had left Monty with was cramped living circumstances and a mother with many questions about why he had gone from Norfolk. Now, a few years of understanding on, there was an agreement that he would routinely agree to his mother’s matches. Just in case she had found the woman that would make him change in all of his ways.
“I think I would have preferred to see the look upon your face if I had given in to the temptations that had risen up within me after I stormed out.”
A sudden blush was surely coming up through Monty’s cheeks. That was a display of emotion that he did not know possible before beginning this engagement with his favorite mystery man. It wasn’t that emotion was an unmanly habit to engage in. No, Monty just wasn’t an emotional sort of person except for his few romantic entanglements. His father, from what he knew, had been much the same kind of man. He could remember a few occasions, possibly less than five, when his father had shown such deep displays. His father, long dead, had not lived long enough to discover his true nature. Likely though, from what gossiping relatives had said after the man’s passing, he would have had an understanding for Monty.

Week 39 - Monty - 10.3 - 1104 words

Perhaps also being uncomfortable with the silence, Haller spoke again.
“Do you mind that I would make public displays for you if necessary? That if someone were to make me duel for your honor that I would draw my sword without a second thought?”
Another important question that Monty did not know the answer for. Would he mind if there was someone willing to duel for his honor? If that were such a thing that could be physically offered up for a bet in a potentially deadly game. Instead of answering it seriously, he decided to craft another witty response.
“Who else do you think would be competing to take my honor? I can imagine though that I might be having to fight others for the right to continue to hold your hand.”
A familiar sort of miming shock crossed Haller’s smiling face. They were an odd sort of pair. That was something they had both known from that the moment that they met. Monty knew that Haller could never believe that he might think badly of his own appearance. Both were men that were well aware of the way that others might look at them. Even when they were in rooms of other finely dressed men.
Haller was someone with a profile that Monty would never grow tired of studying. When they were relaxed like this, as he had begun to observe during their private meetings, their skin shifted in color. While their charade of a human was not the most well tanned, this gray was still entirely unnatural. And to the point - would be rather shocking for someone who did not know all that they were. A shade that may indicate a man in the peak fitness condition, as Monty surely knew by now, might actually be someone approaching their deathbed.
“I would imagine, based on the visit that you had today with your ex-associate-bachelor, that there are many people willing to take up your hand.”
What he had previously thought to be an uncanny sense for reading people was now becoming a rather annoying feature of his partner. In the office, on the previous morning, he suddenly felt as if some of the secrets of the universe had been unlocked for him. In a way that philosophers would never accomplish if given an extra century to think because they had not found themselves in such a warm embrace. Now, as they watched each other in stiff positions, Monty felt as if he knew even less about the universe. That with each twist and turn there became a thousand more possibilities to knowing how the world, theirs and others, may work.
“Are you really reading my mind or were you just trying to get me bothered about you knowing how to read my face?”
“It’s not so much reading your mind as being able to feel all of your emotions now that we’ve-”
There came then a clear knocking on the shop door down below. Monty rose from his position on the bed before their visitor might begin to shake all of the panes of glass in the building. He pushed open the curtains, looking in such a manner that he should not be visible to whoever was intruding from below. Though he could see very little of their visitors from this position, it was clear from the way that they were dressed that they were likely from the local law enforcement. Monty shifted slightly more in his position to get a better view of the street and saw a few mounted soldiers off to the corner.
An afternoon becoming more unpleasant by each passing moment. With a sigh he drew away from the window and began to lay out a new set of clothes for Haller. Something that might not give off the appearance that they had been laying together, tangled in bedsheets, and about to avoid another serious conversation.
“I think that it is time that we were being dressed, my dove. Our investigate friends are here and they have brought some of the King’s men with them.”
Haller brought themself up out of the bed to examine the scene for themself. Monty could see that the pain was still coursing through their body, but doubted that a man such as this would ever admit to anything. In their earliest conversations, before the revelations, Haller had told him of the story of their many encounters with artillery and swords. The explanations for the number of scars on their body that Monty imagined they could not have completely hidden by disguise.
“Yes, Monty, I think you are right to say that those our the King’s men, but I do not think that they are men of the English king. At least not our English king. Take another look at their uniforms while I find myself a suitable tie pin,” they paused at this, looking through the bed sheets. “I imagine that the other has been lost either to my floorboards or to our activities.”
So quickly the lovestruck young man had disappeared and been replaced by the very honorable commanding officer. If those were not truly the King’s men standing outside of their window, then perhaps Haller’s other side would be necessary to control the situation. And if those were some sort of private soldier, what had the investigative forces found out in the space of one night that would change their scripts? What was there to find out about his family that he had not already been told by mean spirited peers at Oxford?
“Haller.”
“Hmm?”
The other man turned to face him amid tying their tie. It was almost ungentlemanly and unfair that they could arrange themself without the use of a mirror. Or perhaps that was what one hundred thousand years of practice perfected in a man - being able to tie their tie with no assistance from their reflection.
“We never did talk about what we would say to these forces. We just got distracted by each other and our intruders and all of these emotions that we have been unable to control.”
“It’s very simple, my dove. We shall tell them the truth.”
Monty did not have the time to ask which truth before Haller had already proceeded down the stairs and the shop door creaked open. He stood in front of Haller’s mirror for a few moments, cursing the damned thing as he arranged his own self. Unsatisfied with his hair, but running very short on time, he pushed it back once more and rushed down the stairs.