Lost Boy (1 of 2)


Lee had done his best to put that weekend behind him. Hell, he’d done more than that–when he’d slipped through that strange fucker’s grasp, he’d done more than put it behind him, he’d tried to disappear. He hitched a ride out of town with the first trucker who’d take him, ended up fifty miles away from that god awful place, and tried to forget about what had happened to him, tried to forget about the…things that man had made him do. Had made him want to do. Part of that was trying to figure out who he was again–working out harder than he had, growing out a beard, and over the next few years, Lee settled down into the small town he’d drifted into–he had a girlfriend he was thinking about marrying, a steady job. Then, one Tuesday evening at the grocery store after work, there in the freezer aisle by the ice cream, Lee looked up and he saw him.

He froze. He didn’t know what to do–had he seen him? No–he was still walking away from him. Maybe he didn’t recognize him? What was he even doing here? Was he sure it was even the man? He abandoned his cart and headed for the exit, not caring. He didn’t care what kind of life he could build here, if that strange fucker could show up here, then Lee knew he wasn’t safe, not here, and maybe not anywhere, but–

“Lee? That is you, isn’t it?” A hand clapped down on his shoulder, freezing him in place, that…horrifically familiar comfort flowing into him, relaxing every tense muscle in his body, releasing every worry he’d had. Fuck, he’d…missed this. He’d forgotten how good it felt, having him just…touch him, even through his clothes. “Sweetie, I’m so glad I found you! You know, I thought you were just a weekend fling back then, but ever since you slipped off that night, I’ve always wanted to…reconnect with you again.”

The man’s hand drifted down to his bare arm, the comfort and pleasure tripling, now that it was skin on skin. “Please–I…” he tried to get out, but the man pulled his hand and turned Lee towards him, looking him in the eye, and nothing else mattered, but those eyes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.