every time i visit this blog i start speaking in only "ZAMN!"
Hehehe. Good. Here are some doodles of Beachcomber pole dancing that I did on Friday when I was bored at work. I used these as a templates and decided Iâd finish em up, and Iâll give you a few teasers too. đ I drew up 3 pages total, that has 2 different pole dancing poses for each page. I might make another page? Dunno. Itâs my current project tho. Lol
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If youâre just here for the epistolary material, scroll to the end! Preceding piece: Everyone.
âSee you later, Phil.â
The last person left the office. It was Friday night, and Roman had gone home with Dillon, Joel and Phil had finished up, and Tyler was left working late with Charlie on this stupid urgent Christmas thing. The world outside the windows was a dark void, speckled by street lights. The office was weirdly quiet without Roman washing up or pottering around tidying. Hell, if they stayed late enough the cleaner would show up.
Charlie had been quiet all week. Roman was fucking limping from his stress. They needed to make sure everything was sorted before they closed and all took the week off. Charlie didnât want to be fixing shit while he was having Christmas with his girlfriend.
Tyler would probably go visit his mom. She got lonely at this time of year. Maybe heâd be able to take Ro, as well. Give him a proper holiday. Introduce himâŠ
âLetâs stop there,â Charlie said, leaning back and running a hand through his flattened quiff, as if trying to coax more life into it. He always over-oiled his hair to keep it in shape. Shaking his hand now would feel greasy.
Tyler closed his notebook gladly, dropping his pen on top. Most of their clients wouldnât be doing business during the festive period, but they also didnât want the app to break. It was their first time closing the office for a week; last year theyâd barely taken seven days off between them. Planning around the issue before it happened was how Charlie liked to do things, but it was a headache.
âI wanted to talk to you about Roman,â Charlie said.
His voice was low and calm, or it sounded calm. Tyler knew Charlie never let everything out at once. He built up to it. When he called Roman into the office, he started off venting, and only smacked him around after heâd worked himself up. It was cathartic, he said.
âWe all know youâre gay.â
The statement was so fucking far out of left field that Tyler almost laughed. âWhat the fuck?â
âNobody cares. Roman turns you on. Whatever. But weâve all seen how youâre looking at him these days. Coming in early to hang out with him. Giving him hugs.â
Tyler sat very still, feeling his body start to burn. âShut up,â he protested, but his voice had fled. His face was on fire. His blood was pounding.
âIâm trying to be nice,â Charlie snapped back. His eyes were dark, so dark. He was furious. Tyler knew it. It beat in his pulse. Like watching his dad neck a bottle of beer. âIâm trying to be nice,â Charlie repeated, voice calmer but harder. âI heard you talk bullshit about freeing him. Taking him away with you.â
He listened to them. When did he find out? Had he snuck in one morning to eavesdrop? Was there a day they didnât hear the door?
âI havenât told the others. I donât need the hassle. But this is your one fucking warning, alright?â
Charlie still sounded so calm. He wasnât calm. He couldnât be. Tyler watched his hands, folded on the table in front of him. Theyâd move. Any second now. Theyâd throw the first punch.
âYou stood there and planned to steal the most expensive company property we have. Over some fucking scratches on his hand. If I see you doing any of that shit again, treating him like your little boyfriend, having your breakfast dates and whatever, youâre out of this goddamn company. Alright?â
Tyler watched. Charlieâs hands didnât move. His engagement ring would sting harder than the punch. Light shone off it.
His father had always said he had to be a man, and take his hits like one. Failed on both counts. The old man would have an aneurysm to know Tyler was a pet-liberating queer.
âAlright?â Charlie repeated. Anger pressing up against the word, threatening to break through.
âAlright,â Tyler repeated back mechanically.
âHeâs not going home with you anymore. I see you taking him off this property, I call the cops. You donât talk to him or get alone with him. Stop being such a fucking moron.â
âAlright.â
Charlie sighed. âAlright. Go home and download Grindr or something. Get outta here.â
Tyler got up feeling like every muscle was hardened clay. He picked up his notebook and pen. He walked to his desk, scooped up his bag and jacket, and left the office to walk to his car.
Charlie had been quiet all week. Charlie had been beating Roman every day. Had screamed at him, red in the face, embarrassing to watch. Heâd stopped apologising after. Stopped feeling guilty.
Tyler hadnât noticed. Still stupid. Still slow.
Heâd have to stop talking to the lawyer. Sheâd want him to push on, be a whistleblower or some shit. Throw everything away to take these guys to court for an outcome Roman didnât even fucking want.
What was the point?
They knew. They knew everything heâd tried to keep secret. We all know youâre gay.
He hadnât. Not until heâd started getting close to Roman.
Tyler drove on autopilot, gaze skittering across the road and back again for hazards without consciously processing it. It was only when he passed a billboard with two dressed-up pets, blown up larger than life under the electric lights, that the dam broke.
Make a positive change this season.
Humiliation and anger took over, and the tears rushed up. He pulled over and cried like a child, alone in his car, three days before Christmas.
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This involves the events that happen in the Kauri piece Haunted (one of my favorites I've ever written, for the record)
-
Jake's phone buzzes on bed beside him and he sits back, leaving his character sort of swaying lightly back and forth on the screen, just a few feet away from the bluebell he'd been about to pick.
He glances over and sees that it's from Krista and frowns, picking it up and quickly unlocking his screen. The message that greets him is simple, and awful.
He went back to Derrick.
It's not like Jake has to ask who he is. He knows, of course he knows, he's spent so much time talking to Kauri about how fucked up that relationship is, how he might be repeating patterns. Outside, the rain continues to pour with a ferocious intensity, not so much falling to the ground as being thrown there.
His thumb hovers over the screen. He could call Kauri, try and get him to wait somewhere, go out and pick him up-
His phone beeps with an Emergency Alert - and boy, how he fucking hates those things - for the catastrophic flooding in parts of the city. He's not going anywhere tonight.
Kauri'll have to be on his goddamn own this time. Jake is tired of picking up his fucking pieces, and he's not going to risk his own safety, not tonight.
His phone buzzes again. Iâm sure itâs okay, and Jake can hear exactly how she'd say the words, nervous and slightly trembling. Echoing back whatever answer she gets. Iâm sure heâll be fine. Iâm sure.
Yeah, is all Jake sends back.
He sits slowly back, staring at the wall across from his bed, phone in hand. It takes all the strength he has not to throw it at the wall just to watch it shatter, have his phone match how he feels inside.
You can't heal someone faster than they want to be healed, Nat always says, her voice soft and full of boundless compassion, endless understanding. And Jake tries to live up to her trust in him as someone who can carry on with the safehouse when she retires. But right now he doesn't feel like someone who works in a safehouse.
He feels small, and furious, as much with himself as with Kauri. Kauri might have gone back to Derrick for a dry bed and someone who never cares if he drinks enough to black out, but Jake is the one nursing a grudge against a runaway for being more difficult than the others he works with.
That's not the only reason it hurts to know he's gone back to him, Jake's inner voice feeds him, nearly gleeful with malice.
He groans and slams his laptop shut.
He sends Kauri a couple of emojis - just a smiling face, then a sick one, green-colored skin, question mark. You okay?
Kauri sends back a heart.
Jake closes his eyes, and wonders what the fuck that one's supposed to mean.