Wednesday Briefs: In Pieces #13 (5.1)

Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Last week, Ryan found out a couple of things. First, that he's going to be rooming with Ben, and more importantly Ben knows about his book. The house tour concludes in this chapter and on to meet the rest of the band. See how that goes in this week's In Pieces. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what they've been up to! Their links follow my tale!

In Pieces #13 (5.1)

Ryan found his concentration completely shattered by the revelation that Ben not only had read Brothers but had seen through the apparent fictional façade to the heart of what lay beneath. He’d be lying to himself if he said he had no idea what Ben was talking about, because he did. He’d written it, hadn’t he? Maybe at first glance his book was about two actual brothers, which he and Ben weren’t. And maybe nothing had ever happened between Ben and him, which it certainly had in the novel. But there’d been something there between them, something palpable, when they were teens. Something that drew them together.  Which made Ben’s sudden disappearance all the more painful. And why he could never talk about it to anyone. Especially not his father.

Brothers had been catharsis of a sort. It was him trying to come to grips with feelings he didn’t know how to deal with. Maybe he should have published it under a pseudonym. Not that it would have made a difference. He’d had his book torn up by a small group of vicious so-called reviewers on a popular book site. They’d trashed the story and trashed him as well. Never mind that none of them knew him, or had any idea what he was like. One review was particularly galling because it had been written by someone who admittedly hadn’t even read the book, but based it on a friend’s review. They’d called him perverted and sick. Smeared his heritage and shredded his family name.  One person had even accused him of being a woman pretending to be a man.

He didn’t respond to their accusations, didn’t even try to refute any of it. What use would it have been? He kept it all from his father, but Cassie knew and she tried to make him feel better, even if she didn’t know the whole story behind his novel. Nothing he’d done since then had fared very well. Publishers rejected him right and left. The last couple of books he’d had accepted ended up with fly-by-night outfits who took the money and ran. He didn’t know what was worse—not making any money or making it and having it stolen. He’d just about given up on the idea of being a successful author when this opportunity had arisen, a chance to make a fresh start.

And that fresh start turned out to be Ben. Ryan had come full circle to where he’d started. So how would the story end this time?

Ryan pushed the thought aside and followed Ben downstairs, across the veranda, to the back of the house. A driveway wound around from the front of the house. The drive led to a large garage, where an assortment of vehicles was housed in several bays, before it branched off to a smaller building.

“This was just used for storage at one time,” Ben explained. “Cam renovated it for the band’s use, put in acoustics and stuff. He’s a great guy. I’m sure you’ll like him.”

“I’m sure I will,” Ryan said automatically. He hoped his voice didn’t reflect the perturbation that was fighting for dominance in his soul.

Ben opened a small door and beckoned Ryan to follow him inside. The interior was surprisingly dim after the bright Louisiana sun. Ryan stopped just inside the door to let his eyes adjust. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, surely not a light show? He wasn’t even sure who did the lighting, come to think of it. His knowledge of bands was limited to what he’d seen at concerts.

As he grew accustomed to the dimmer light, he noticed a small stage, empty except for various instruments—a couple of guitars, a drum set, and a keyboard. But no musicians.

Glancing around, he quickly spotted the rest of Salvation.  A lounge area had been set up, probably for the band to relax between rehearsals. A comfortable-looking couch, a love seat, and several ottomans. Aiden and Abby sat together on the couch. Keanu paced back and forth before the love seat and the man who lounged there. This must be Deacon, Ryan reasoned by process of elimination. He’d met everyone else, and this man was too young to be Cameron.

“I told you they’d come out here, you worry too much.” Deacon unfolded himself from the loveseat and rose, patting Keanu’s cheek as he passed by.

Deacon was a very striking young man, Ryan noticed, with skin the color of very lightly creamed coffee. Dark curly hair fell to his shoulders in a wave. He moved with a singular grace toward Ben and Ryan. “I’m sorry if my significant other made a bad first impression,” he said, directing his attention to Ryan. “He means well. You must be Ryan, I’m Deacon. Good to meet you.” He held out his hand and Ryan took it. Deacon’s hand was both firm and soft. He had mocha eyes and a killer smile.

“Nice to meet you,” Ryan replied.

“Now you’ve met all of us,” Ben said, reclaiming Ryan’s hand somewhat possessively. “Now you get to hear us play.”

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Cia Nordwell

Michael Mandrake

Wednesday Briefs: In Pieces #12 (4.4)

Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Ryan isn't sure what's going on, but he's going along... for now. He's happy just to be with Ben again, as he continues the house tour. They end up upstairs, where Ben apprises him of the sleeping arrangements. Is anyone really surprised? See what's going on in this week's chapter of In Pieces. Don't forget to check out the other Briefers and see what they're up to. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

In Pieces #12 (4.4)

If the living room was the naughty pleasure room, then the family room was the comfort room.  Plump pillows were scattered invitingly across the floor. Ryan could just imagine the members of the band ignoring the more conventional armchair and sofa in order to lounge on the floor, sprawling over the pillows and doing whatever they did to relax between gigs. A large screen TV hung on one wall, inbetween a built-in bookcase and a well-stocked bar. Ryan could see himself writing in this room.  If it wasn’t too noisy, that is. Opening from the family room was a breakfast area and then the kitchen. Ryan half expected to see a housekeeper or cook lurking there, but no such person was in sight. Maybe the band fended for themselves? Or maybe she existed but she was in another part of the house right now.

She or he. Ryan reminded himself not to be sexist. No reason a housekeeper couldn’t be a man, was there? “Where to now?”

“I’d like to take you upstairs before we go out back and join the others,” Ben said. “You can see the veranda then. C’mon, this way.”

“I’m sorry for throwing you off your schedule,” Ryan apologized as Ben led him through a doorway, back into the foyer, and up the staircase he’d seen when they first arrived.

“Don’t pay attention to Keanu,” Ben said. “He gets dramatic sometimes. He also gets over it. We’re fine.”  He shot Ryan a reassuring smile. “There are only four bedrooms, by the way, so everyone’s doubling up. Except Cameron, since it’s his house.”

It had never occurred to Ryan that he might end up with a roommate. He hadn’t shared a room since he was a kid, and they’d put Ben into his room.  He’d hated that… at first. “That brings back old times.” He laughed, maybe a little nervously. Ben didn’t laugh in return. Maybe he was remembering Ryan’s initial reaction to his arrival. How he wished he could take back the actions of his younger, more stupid self.

“Cameron’s room’s there”—Ben waved toward a closed door—“It’s the master bedroom, has its own bath and everything. “Down there”—Ben gestured along the hall to a room at the far end—“is where Aiden and Abby sleep. They have their own bath. We decided that would be best, give Abby a little privacy. Cam said she can use his room when he’s not around.”

“That’s generous of him,” Ryan commented.

“Yeah, he’s like that.” For a moment, Ryan thought he was going to add something else, but he didn’t.

Ben pushed open a door across the hall from the master bedroom. “This is where Keanu and Deacon sleep. This room shares a bath, right through here.” He led Ryan across the room to a small hallway. “Extra towels over there, and bath here, on the other side. Shower in tub.  Only one mirror, I’m afraid. And here”—he opened a door at the end of the hall—“is the fourth bedroom.”

Ryan entered the room, just behind Ben. Two twin beds, two dressers, and two windows overlooking the back of the house. On one bed sat his suitcase. This must be his assigned space. If so, that meant… He glanced at the other bed, and then at Ben. “Does this mean…. Are you and I…?”

“Roommates?  Yes. At least while we’re staying here. I hope it’s not a problem. I mean, Deacon and Keanu are a couple, so of course I gave them their own room. And I didn’t think we should put Abby with anyone but her brother. I hope you don’t mind?”

“Mind? Of course not,” Ryan assured him. What he was saying made sense. Not like they hadn’t done it before.

“I left you half the closet,” Ben said. “But we each have a dresser. You can put your toiletries in the bathroom. There’s plenty of room, at least right now,  although it remains to be seen how that’ll work on show nights if we all try to put on our make-up at the same time.” He winked at Ryan, who couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t worry, I don’t wear any,” he said. “I’ll leave it to you guys.”

He glanced around the bedroom. It wasn’t quite as large as the first room they’d gone through, but not by much. The wallpaper was the same small floral pattern interspersed with stripes which seemed to be repeated all throughout the second floor. Everything seemed to be well taken care of. A comfortable enough room for whatever time they would spend here.

Ben had already set a few items on his dresser, including a couple of worn-looking paperbacks. Ryan frowned. Those covers looked familiar. Maybe something he’d read before? He stepped toward the dresser, focused on the books, then stopped in surprise. No wonder he recognized them. They were his books. What in the world was Ben doing with those?

Ryan’s eyes widened as the full import of what he was seeing struck him. Ben knew about Brothers. If the book’s appearance was any indicator, he’d read it, too—more than once. He should have realized Ben knew about his books. He hired him in his capacity as an author, right? He just hadn’t expected him to own a copy of any of them. Especially not the one that had proven to be the most controversial. The one that had all but ruined his career.

“Maybe you can sign it for me,” Ben said softly. He’d come up behind Ryan, who’d been too focused on the books to note. He rested his chin on Ryan’s shoulder and gave a small sigh.

“I’ve been so lost without you, Ryan. I was afraid I’d never see you again. I found your book, and I knew you felt the same way too. I knew we’d end up together again, somehow.” He tilted his face toward Ryan, blue eyes glittering. “Forever, this time,” he whispered.

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Cia Nordwell

Carol Pedroso

Nephy Hart

Wednesday Briefs: In Pieces #11 (4.3)

Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Ben is showing Ryan around the vacation home which will be the base for Salvation's tour, and shows Ryan some of Cameron's naughty knickknacks.Ryan feels that something is wrong with Ben but when he tries to find out, they are interrupted. See what's happening in this week's chapter of In Pieces. And don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what they've been up to!

In Pieces #11 (4.3)

A slender young man burst through the doorway with all the force of a tornado. He made a beeline toward Ben, never stopping to draw a breath.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Ben. We need to quit screwing around, we need to practice, dude.”

 Despite his words, Ryan had the impression that he wasn’t upset, just impatient. He gave off definite energy vibes, as if he was overly caffeinated or something. Before Ben had a chance to make any sort of reply, the newcomer had diverted his attention to Ryan. Changing course, he circled him, eyeing him curiously.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Or should I say who? Don’t tell me. You must be that fabulous writer Ben’s been raving about so much. I was beginning to wonder if such a perfect creature even existed.”

Ryan felt his cheeks warm. He couldn’t help but wonder what Ben had been saying about him, but it must be good, right?

“Guilty as charged,” he confessed. “Writer. Not sure about fabulous, and definitely not perfect.”

“Keanu, don’t harass Ryan before you even get to know him,” Ben said. “Give him a chance to get used to everyone without scaring him off, if you don’t mind.” He rose from the couch, all signs of his previous despair having disappeared, and put a protective arm about Ryan. “We just got in from the airport. I was giving him the tour of the house. So cool your jets, please, if you don’t mind.”

Never missing a beat, Keanu turned gracefully toward Ryan and held out his hand. “Then I’ll just introduce myself and play nice. Keanu Nakamura. Aka Bishop. I play bass.”

Ryan took the hand that was being offered and gave it a shake. Keanu’s hand was warm and firm. His dark eyes were slightly uptilted at the edges, giving him an exotic look which matched his golden skin fairly glowed.  Was this band filled with nothing but beauties?

“Ryan Fremont,” he said in return. “Writer. Oh wait, you just said that. Sorry.”

“No worries, it’s all good.” Keanu dropped Ryan’s hand and turned back to Ben. “I can see why you took your time getting back,” he said with a wink. “I would too, if it meant getting to spend time with such a cutie.”

“I wouldn’t let Deacon hear you say that,” Ben retorted, a slight edge to his voice. “He might not understand.”

Keanu laughed. “Deacon is the least jealous person I know. He knows he’s the only one for me. But he also knows I’m not blind. And neither is he. I think we’ll both enjoy spending time with you, Mr. Writer.”

Ryan felt Ben’s arm tighten just a fraction. Surely that wasn’t in response to anything Keanu said? Than again, Ben had always been somewhat possessive when it came to Ryan. Once they overcame their initial antipathy, that is. Ryan found himself leaning in to Ben just a little bit, even if by doing so, he was reinforcing his behavior. He found Keanu to be just a little… overwhelming.

“Where’s Deacon now?” Ben asked.

“Out back, with Aiden and Abby. Rehearsing. We’d sound better if you joined us. Naturally.”

Ben’s grip tightened a little more. Tension seemed to flow through him, sending an unexpected shock through Ryan, which left him speechless. What was really going on here? Other than some strange kind of pissing contest?

Without warning, Ben removed his arm and stepped away from Ryan, toward the bass player. He drew himself up to his full height, standing toe to toe with Keanu. The other man was slightly taller, but something about Ben seemed to create the illusion of height, as if they were actually eye to eye.

A long moment passed as they stared one another down. Then Keanu shifted his gaze to the floor, as if something very interesting there had just caught his attention.

“I’m going to finish giving Ryan the tour of the house and help him get situated. Then we’ll both be out. Tell the others. Are we clear?”

Keanu nodded. “Perfectly,” he said in a quiet voice, a far cry from his earlier cheeky tone. Ryan glanced between the two men in confusion. What had just happened?

Keanu spun on his heel and exited the room as quickly as he had entered, but without any of the bluster. Ryan glanced at Ben. He was all smiles and sunshine. Probably because he’d just gotten his own way.

“Let’s continue with the tour,” he said, taking Ryan’s hand in his.

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Cia Nordwell

Carol Pedroso

Michael Mandrake

Nephy Hart

Wednesday Briefs: In Pieces #10 (4.2)

Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

In Pieces continues as Ben takes Ryan on a tour of the elegant home where the band will be staying when they're not on the road. It seems as though their host has unusual tastes. See what's up in this week's chapter of In Pieces. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what they're up to! Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!

In Pieces #10 (4.2)

Swallowing a sigh, Ryan followed Ben up the wide front steps and into the house. Questions would obviously have to wait for now.

“Starting the tour of Le Grand Mansion, here we have the foyer,” Ben said in a faux tour guide voice as he gestured widely. “What you and I might call the hallway.” He winked at Ryan, drawing him in as if they shared a private joke. Ryan understood what he was saying—neither one of them came from money, this was how the upper class lived. He couldn’t help but think Ben intended to change that with Salvation.

A circular wrought iron staircase wound its way to the second floor. That was something you didn’t see a lot of in St. Louis, more of a New Orleans thing. French architecture and all. He couldn’t help thinking this place looked far too elegant to be someone’s vacation home. He’d pictured something more along the lines of a cozy cabin, all knotty-pine and chinking. This was a far cry from being that.

“And there’s the dining room.” Ben waved toward a room to their left. “It comes complete with its own fireplace. As does the living room, which is right over there. Want to see?” Not waiting for an answer, he gripped Ryan’s hand and tugged him along behind him. Ryan didn’t even think of resisting, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but wonder when had Ben developed this dominant streak? Once upon a time, their positions had been reversed. Ryan had led the way and Ben had followed. He’d certainly changed in the ten years since Ryan had last seen him. Had this newfound confidence come with age? Or something else?

The living room proved to be warm and inviting, a warmth that had nothing to do with temperature but with the way it was furnished. A thick russet carpet spread wall-to-wall, just right for bare toes and bare feet… as well as other bare things. Such as stretching out across the floor, naked and cat-like.  Ryan felt his cheeks warm at his unexpected thought—what the hell had brought that one?— but luckily Ben seemed oblivious to his musings so he forced himself to focus on other, safer things.

The stone fireplace sat against the wall to their left as they walked in, flanked on one side by a built-in book case, on the other by a luxurious pecan wood cabinet. The cabinet was crowded with an assortment of figurines and knickknacks. Ryan wondered what they were. Something pricey and pretentious, no doubt. Maybe Hummel, or even something more expensive. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find a Faberge egg or two.

“We call this the naughty room. Cam refers to it as his play room.” Ben laughed at Ryan’s confused expression.  “Come take a look at this. It’s part of Cam’s private collection. He has more upstairs.” They drew closer to the cabinet and Ryan realized he’d been entirely off about these decorations. These pieces had certainly not been made by Hummel or Precious Moments, or even Faberge. No cute kittens or wide-eyed children here.  No, these colorful porcelain figures were pornographic in nature—naked men and women, lithe limbs twisted about one another as they enjoyed themselves with explicit abandon. Nestled among these, Ryan noticed a variety of phallic objects. To his surprise, these turned out to be dildos, in assorted sizes and colors, as well as a number of butt plugs. He suspected that far from being decorative, these items served a more useful purpose, hence the name of the room.

Ryan had no doubt this room had actually seen a great deal of naked romping and rolling on the carpet in its time. And more…

“You’re not shocked, are you?”

Ben’s voice drew him back into the moment, away from the precipice he’d been about to fall over. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “Shocked?” he repeated, his voice breaking on the word. He cleared his throat of its momentary frog and continued. “Why would I be shocked?”

“I dunno. Maybe I was thinking you were still kind of innocent or something. My bad.”

Ryan gave Ben a sharp look, holding him in his gaze. For just a second, he thought he caught a glimpse of something in Ben’s eyes, something he couldn’t put his finger on. Something wistful, maybe? Hopeful, even? The next moment, Ben’s expression had changed, as if he’d drawn the shades on some inner emotion he didn’t want Ryan to witness.

That was the writer in him, of course. Real people didn’t think in those terms. Leave it to the mind of an author to conjure up something fanciful at every turn.

“I’m hardly innocent, not at my age,” Ryan protested, even as a small voice argued that he didn’t exactly have a lot of experience either. He told that voice to shut up in no uncertain terms. Okay, he’d been something of a late bloomer as far as sex was concerned, but he was no virgin. He turned his attention to the rest of the room, pushing thoughts of the obscene little figures out of his mind. For now.

“Innocence… experience. Nothing really matters in the end, does it?”

Ben flopped dramatically onto a butterscotch couch with thick cushions which sat in the center of the room.  Closing his eyes, he pressed one hand dramatically to his forehead as if striking a pose. Ryan stared at him in confusion. What the hell?

And then he remembered he’d seen this act before. This was Ben’s avoidance technique, his way of deflecting things he didn’t want to deal with. Play the diva and change the subject. It had been a while, but he’d know this performance anywhere.  Well, it wasn’t going to work, not this time.

“Ben, what’s wro—”

Before he could finish the thought, another voice intruded.

“For Chrissake’s, Ben, when do you plan to rehearse?”

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Cia Nordwell

Carol Pedroso

Michael Mandrake

Wednesday Briefs: In Pieces #9 (4.1)

Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

There's so much Ryan wants to know, needs to know, but apparently this isn't the time as he becomes distracted by the enormously long bridge, and whatever chance he had seems to evaporate. See what's going on with Ryan and Ben in this week's chapter of In Pieces. Then don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!

In Pieces #9 (4.1)

So much for having a quiet conversation with Ben.  By the time Ryan managed to stop freaking out about the damn bridge, they were already across it and the conversation had veered to other things. Mostly the band. He learned this was going to be Salvation’s first actual tour. They’d played in various small venues in the South—mostly small clubs and private parties— but there’d been nothing as organized as this. Things had changed once they’d gotten a manager.  This tour was to support the release of their first CD, which was being produced by a small Indy label.

“I’m impressed,” Ryan said. “Looks like all your dreams are coming true. “

“Now you’re here, they are,” Ben said, flashing Ryan a confident smile. Ryan’s cheeks heated. Nothing had changed, apparently. Ben still had the ability to make him blush the way no one else could. Not even Cassie, although not because she didn’t try. It just wasn’t the same as when Ben did it.

Ryan cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus on something other than Ben’s hand on his knee.  Change in subject definitely in order. He needed to remember this was a job, not just a joyous reunion. “When I was looking up the band on the Internet, I was surprised to find you don’t have a website. Have you ever thought about making one? People need to know who you are, where they can find you, you know? You need to have a presence.”

“I know, I know.” With a sigh, Ben turned away from Ryan, taking back his hand. His gaze was fixed somewhere outside the cab. Fascinating scenery or avoidance?

Had Ryan said something wrong? Struck a nerve of some kind? He scooted closer to Ben, until their legs touched. “Ben…”

“There’s so much you don’t know,” Ben said, turning his crystal blue gaze on him. “Things you can’t know…”

“You can tell me anything,” Ryan assured him. He reached for one of Ben’s hands, clasped in both of us. He sensed there was something important that Ben needed to say, that he needed to hear. “I’m here for you. I’m here to stay…”

The cab gave a sudden lurch, throwing them back against the seat, as the driver pulled off the road and headed down a long drive. Ryan had long lost track of their surroundings, too focused on Ben to notice where they were. Apparently they’d arrived at their destination. And just that quickly, Ben closed up. He flashed Ryan a radiant smile, any sign of his previous distress gone. Had Ryan read too much into those few words? He didn’t think so.

He hadn’t known what to expect, to be honest. This mansion looked as though it came directly out of Gone With the Wind. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they were greeted by a Southern belle in hoop skirts, carrying a mint julep.

“This is Cameron’s house?” Ryan asked once they’d exited the cab and Ben paid the driver.

“This is it,” Ben confirmed. “Looks like the twins beat us here.” He nodded to a dark blue luxury sedan parked on the curved drive just in front of the house. “Guess Cameron went out. I don’t see his pickup anywhere.”

Ryan arched a brow. “He has a car like that and he drives a pickup?”

“He’s an unusual man.” Ben grinned. “Real down home, if you know what I mean. You’ll see when you meet him.”

“Can’t wait.”

“C’mon, let’s  go in and I’ll show you around.” Taking Ryan by the hand, he led him inside.

Now go see what the other Briefers are up to!

Cia Nordwell

Nephy Hart

Johayan

Wednesday Briefs: In Pieces #8 (3.3)

Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Ryan doesn't know whether he's coming or going right now, a feeling which is only intensified when he revisits an old fear. Can Ben calm him down? See what's going on in this week's chapter of In Pieces. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!

In Pieces #8 (3.3)

The feel of Ben’s lips on his triggered so many memories, memories he’d held onto, wrapped around himself as comfort in the wake of Ben’s unexplained disappearance.  Remembering  him was all he had left. He’d missed Ben terribly, and he hadn’t even had the consolation of knowing where’d he gone or why. If he was all right or if he was happy…

Every time he asked his father for information, his dad would tell him he didn’t know where they were, or if they’d ever be back. At eighteen, Ryan was hardly a child. He saw something in his father’s eyes, something that told Ryan he knew more than he was letting on. After a while he gave up asking for answers as being an exercise in futility. Ryan tried calling and texting Ben, but soon discovered that number was no longer in service, and his emails remained equally unanswered. All he could do was be patient and hope that Ben would get in contact with him.

But he never did.

Despite their rocky beginning, as time passed, Ryan began to resent Ben less and less as they were thrown into each other’s company more and more. When Liza—he never thought of her as Mother, and she never encouraged him to call her that—bought a model airplane kit for Ben, it was Ryan who helped him put it together. It was a Spitfire, he remembered, complete with a canopy that opened and closed and authentic looking decals. When they were finished with it, they showed it to their parents. Dad praised both boys for a job well done. Liza hugged Ben and told him how proud of him she was. She never acknowledged that Ryan had even had a hand in it. Looking back, he realized that was indicative of their entire relationship, although he was too young to understand it at the time.

Ryan opened his eyes and focused on Ben, ignoring the wide blue expanse around them. Safer to concentrate on Ben.

“I tried to call you,” Ryan said softly.

Ben flushed, but he never released Ryan’s hands, gripping them as if he’d never let go. “She took my phone,” he said, his tone miserable, his cocky façade momentarily deserting him. He cast his eyes down to their joined hands. “She said I couldn’t keep it, it was part of the life we were leaving behind. She said Dad didn’t want us, and that if he found us, he’d hurt us.”

Ryan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s crazy. Dad’s not like that. He would never hurt anyone. He loved you.  He was very upset when you left. And so was I…” Ryan’s mind was spinning. He had to remind himself to take a breath.

“I missed you too,” Ben said, looking up at last. Ryan caught his breath at the sight. Tears glistened on Ben’s long lashes, casting an additional luminescence to his eyes. “I wanted to email you, but she said we couldn’t bring my laptop either, it wouldn’t be safe. I didn’t have a choice, Ryan, what could I do?”

They had stolen away, like thieves in the night. Ryan still remembered what would end up being their last night together.  Ben and he stayed up late, playing World of Warcraft together, then fell asleep in Ryan’s bed, which they often did when Ben was too tired or too lazy to go back to his own room.

“We’re gonna kick that guy’s ass next time,” Ben had said, referring to the game boss they’d been unable to defeat, but not for lack of trying.

“Next time,” Ryan said with a yawn. “But we might need some help. He’s strong.”

“Nah, we can do it,” Ben said with the all the assurance of youth. Ryan couldn’t help but love his confidence, one of the many things he loved about Ben.

Conversation quickly petered out. Finally, they kissed good night and fell asleep, Ben’s head nestled on Ryan’s chest. He never felt him move, slept through his leaving.  In the morning, Ryan discovered both Ben and Liza were gone, and Ryan’s world fell apart as it never had before. He’d been too young when his mother died, he had no memories of her. But Ben’s loss was beyond painful.

“Why didn’t you come to Dad’s funeral?” I needed you.

“I couldn’t.” Ben released Ryan’s hands abruptly, clenching his own into fists.

“Couldn’t?” Ryan echoed. “What do you mean—?”

For one brief moment, Ryan saw something in Ben’s eyes, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Anger? Guilt? No, something else. More like a cry for help. Or was he imagining that? The next moment, Ben was laughing, his expression unreadable.

“I knew you would come to me, all I had to do was wait. And now we’re together again.” He threw his arms around Ryan, nestling his head against Ryan’s chest. His next words were so faint, Ryan wasn’t sure he really heard them.

“Please don’t ever leave me.”

to be continued

Now go see what the other Briefers have been up to!

Cia Nordwell

Carol Pedroso

Johayan

Wednesday Briefs: In Pieces #7 (3.2)

Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Ryan's still in a bit of shock at discovering that the band he's just started working for is led by none other than the stepbrother he hasn't seen in ten years. Guess they have some catching up to do. See what's going on in this week's chapter of In Pieces. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what they're up to. Their links follow my tale!  Enjoy!

In Pieces #7 (3.2)

They joined a short line of passengers waiting at a taxi booth just outside the terminal. When it was their turn, they slid into the backseat of a bright orange cab. The driver was a matronly woman who looked to be about fifty. She wore her grayish-brown hair in a long plait that hung down her back and swung back and forth with every move she made.  Turning in her seat, she offered them a professionally courteous smile. “Welcome to New Orleans. Where can I take you?”

When Ben gave her the address, her eye brows raised slightly. “Mandeville? That’ll be a hundred dollars…” She paused, as if expecting an argument, or perhaps some attempt at negotiation. Ryan wondered why the fare was so outrageous, but he didn’t say anything. This wasn’t his business, and he wasn’t about to butt in.

“That’s fine,” Ben said.

 “Any luggage?”

“Not today,” Ben replied.

“Then let’s go.” The cabbie turned back around and adjusted her seat belt.

Ryan could see the driver’s curious eyes regarding them in the rearview mirror.  A crucifix dangled there, as well as a strand of what he assumed to be Mardi Gras beads.  She merged the cab into the steadily increasing airport  traffic and turned on the radio. Jazz  played soft and low in the background. Loud enough to be heard, but not too loud to be intrusive.  Ryan wasn’t surprised. This was New Orleans, after all. When Ben relaxed back into the seat. Ryan tried to follow suit, although he was suddenly nervous for no reason he could put his finger on. Maybe it was because everything was happening so fast.  He glanced up to find Ben regarding him with those amazing crystal blue eyes.

“Mandeville. I guess that’s where we’re going?” Ryan asked for the sake of saying something, although that was far from the first question on his mind.

How have you been? Where have you been? What happened to you?

“Yeah, that’s where Cameron’s digs are. We just arrived here yesterday ourselves. We’ve been checking out the city, waiting for you to come. Mandeville seems pretty nice, but it’s way out in the suburbs. The house is about a forty-five minute ride from here.”

That explained why it cost so much then.

“It’s nice of Cameron to let us stay there. Aiden said he’s one of your biggest fans. Will he be coming on the tour with us?” Ryan envisioned this Cameron as being something of a groupie. Wasn’t that considered a sign of success when a band began to accrue groupies?

 “Cameron’s more than just a fan, he’s our angel,” Ben said. He took one of Ryan’s hands, holding it between both of his as he stroked it softly. Ryan thought he could feel his pulse rate rise dramatically at Ben’s touch. He cleared his throat, attempting to focus.

“Angel?”

“Think investor,” Ben explained. “Money man, if you like. I prefer angel. It has such beautiful connotations.” Damn, but Ben’s smile was dazzling. He’d only grown sexier over the years.

Ryan realized he had to get himself in hand or he’d never survive the experience. And that would be a shame, now that they’d finally been reunited.

“I’m sure Cameron will show up for at least some of our concerts. He’s more than welcome to travel with us, too, seeing as he’s footing the bills. I guess it depends on his schedule.” Ben placed two fingers lightly on Ryan’s wrist, right at the pulse point. Ryan struggled to even out his breathing, but that wasn’t happening. The effect Ben had on him had only grown stronger in the decade they’d been apart. If there had been an undeniable attraction between them then, there was an irresistible force sweeping through Ryan’s body now, one he fought to control.

Ben peeped seductively up at Ryan from beneath incredibly long purple-tinted lashes. “I see some things never change,” he said softly, just before he laid their conjoined hands over Ryan’s heart. “Ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-thump… Does it still beat just for me, Ryan?”

A flustered Ryan tried to frame a coherent response, but the words refused to come. Ben laughed. He dropped their hands onto Ryan’s thigh, his lips curled up into a self-satisfied smirk.

“You don’t have to speak, I can see the answer in your eyes,” Ben said.

“No… that is… I mean….” Ryan took a deep breath and started again. “A lot’s happened in ten years, Ben. You have no idea. What ha—” Before he could get out the question he longed to ask, Ryan became all too aware of their surroundings. More importantly, he saw what lay ahead of them, and in which direction they were going. Sure, he’d known there was a lake, but he assumed the highway would skirt the water. “Is that a… are we going on a bridge?”

“It’s the only way to cross the lake,” Ryan said. “Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of bridges?” Despite his words, his voice held a note of compassion.

“I’m not afraid of bridges,” Ryan protested, the trembling of his voice proclaiming otherwise. “I just wasn’t prepared, that’s all.”

“Ma’am”—he pitched his voice toward the cab driver—“can we go around the lake instead of over it?”

Her gaze met his in the mirror. “Sorry, hon, it’s the only way to get to Mandeville. Don’t worry, it only takes about twenty minutes. Then it’ll be all over.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

“How long is it?”

“About twenty-four miles.”

Jesus Christ.

Ben squeezed his hand. “Don’t think about it,” he said. “Think about me instead. Think about us.”

Without warning, he swooped in and claimed Ryan’s lips in a soul-searing kiss. Every thought Ryan had had exploded at the contact.

In his mind, ten years fell away in an instant. Back to the way it had been and should have remained…

to be continued

Now go see what's up with the other Briefers!

Cia Nordwell

Carol Pedroso

Michael Mandrake