Welcome to my massive-multi-movie-crossover between Mysterious Skin (Arthur's origins), Warrior (Eames's Origin), and The Dark Knight Rises (Just hints of it, anyway) all taking place in the world of Inception. This started off as a mere passtime and eventually bloomed into a behemoth of a story that I really couldn't stop writing. Pairing warnings, since in this world Neil is Arthur and Tommy is Eames. On top of ArthurxEames, there'll also be NeilxTommy
With that said, a lot of liberties are taken in terms of when and where all this takes place. Mysterious Skin's timeline has been bumped up to Warrior's timeline which puts Inception in the far future. Of the above movies, the only two necessary to understand the fanfic is Mysterious Skin and Inception. It shouldn't be necessary to know Warrior.
Warning for this chapter, there won't be much inception here since the main focus is on their origins. Please enjoy!
In the night-light, do you see what you dream?
All your triumph, and all you'll ever be?
Look around you, then you may realize,
Happiness lies trapped in misery!
The New York trains were always a dump. The pungent aroma of refuse and sweat permeated every barrier. No matter where anyone sat, no one would be at a safe distance from a drunk vagrant's mad cries and occasional vomit. If any patron closed their eyes and concentrated hard enough, they swore they could hear the garbage sizzling over the tracks beneath the train.
Tommy didn't care. Tommy Conlon, deserter from the military, embraced it all. A part of him died long ago. The rest of him died in the war. All that was left was a wandering rat hiding from the eyes of the government making peanuts for his army-brother's widow.
It was an uneventful day at the downtown. He started his morning at the Super-Center supermarket. They paid him less than the college-bound working at the cashier but he kept at it. When the afternoon came, Tommy worked out at a dingy gym stuffed in between a worn out liquor store and an abandoned diner. The customers were bums, the equipment was a joke, but it had been free since Tommy beat out one coked-up punk.
When night finally fell upon the city, Tommy breathed a sigh of relief. He'd leave the gym, shoving the door so hard that it'd tremble on its hinges. With a coarse black beanie on his head and frayed gloves cut at the fingers, Tommy stepped into an alley a few blocks away into an alcove framed by metal fences. A fight ring encircled by metal and bricks with hollering fans all around. An oil barrel filled with cash was situated right by the wall guarded by a mousy looking man with a heavy jacket.
Winner take all. That's what the barrel said. And Tommy was a winner.
Every night, at least two hundred dollars for a couple hours. Everyone was pissed at the nobody who entered the ring, beat everyone down in a few punches, and shunned anyway who talked to him. Tommy wasn't here to make friends with a crowd of kids playing as a mob. Tommy was here to make money. Tommy was here to win.
The fight rings always lasted four hours. It used to last till the morning. Once Tommy appeared, crowds started to dissipate. No one wanted to see one man take it all with barely a scratch on him. The novelty of the invincible warrior grew old and the once eight hundred an entire night became two hundred in four hours.
Fair enough, it was still more than the Super-Center.
Tommy slumped down against the seat, eyes tightly shut. He listened to the pounding of the tracks and doors of the train. He smelled the old coffee someone had spilled in the afternoon. He heard the doors slide open with a metallic hiss. He heard the weak footsteps of a stumbling kid. But most importantly, he caught the bitter smell of blood upon him.
His eyes peeled open slowly, as if his eyelids were fighting against him in exhaustion. A shivering teen with a blood soaked shirt and a bloodied forehead sat directly in front of him. His eyes were pointed straight at Tommy but were unfocused, glazed over in fear. Tommy ignored him; he had more important things to do. He was dead tired as it was and he still needed to work tomorrow. Still, the smell of blood and soft whimpering kept pulling him out from his haze. Just get off the train so I can be at peace. Tommy growled in his mind.
Three stations past, the teen still sat there in almost silence. Out of curiosity, Tommy opened his eyes again. His eyes then fell upon the hand kneading at the bloodied shirt, as if his forearm was a loose handle to reality. Forget the kid. Just wait for your stop. Tommy said to himself, shutting his eyes again. He was only three stops away. Hopefully, that kid would be gone too.
Two stops away. Tommy opened his eyes and watched as the kid began to cry. He didn't whine, didn't convulse. It was morbidly silent as tears merely poured over his eyes and fell down his face without a single muscle twitching except for that hand that continued kneading at his shirt. As quick as they came, they stopped seconds later leaving a trickle of tears on his cheek. Tommy shut his eyes again; a hefty weight was tugging sorrowfully at his heart.
One stop away. Tommy kept his eyes closed. He didn't need this trouble. He didn't need this headache. All he wanted to do was go back to his crappy little apartment, sleep for five hours, and head back to his cycle. He promised Manny he'd protect his wife. He didn't have time to take care of little shits who played a bit too hard and bit off more than they could chew. He had his own life and his own-
"Mom," The whimper was soft, absent. It was directed to no one, maybe to an imaginary picture in the kid's eyes.
And Tommy's resolve fell apart. He stood from his chair, growling absently at himself. The boy visually flinched as Tommy towered over him, a complete tower of muscle compared to his wiry frame, "Look, kid," Tommy said, "You need to get to the hospital. Or to the cops. That's a lot of blood on you." The kid shook his head jerkily, fearfully. He gripped onto himself tighter, curling in, trying to back away against a seat, "I'm not going to hurt you. Look, we'll get off at my stop and I'll ring up the cops. There's a station just there and I'm sure,"
"No cops," The kid choked out through thick tears.
"What?" Tommy replied.
"No cops," The kid choked out again, shaking his head violently.
"No hospital either then?" Tommy asked. His stop was coming in close. The kid replied the same, refusing help, "Look, you need to get bandaged up. How bout we go down to a drug store and fetch you some bandages?"
There was a pause, glazed eyes focusing for a second at the man before him before he nodded weakly. Tommy extended a hand to him. Before he could even offer the help, the kid took his arm with clammy hands and stood up weakly. Slowly, they made their way to the train doors. Tommy felt the kid's weight almost completely supported by his arm.
The two made their way through the darkness of night, passing the police station as they exited the train station. Tommy could see the boy twist his head back weakly, peering at the police station fearfully.
"Don't worry. Cops here wouldn't leave their home even if the president got shot outside," Tommy joked. The kid didn't laugh but he gave him a small hum, "Anyway kid, what's your name?"
"Neil," It was a whisper, followed by a sudden sob.
"I'm Tommy. Neil. Let's get you cleaned up," Tommy made a turn on the street. There was a 24 hour drug store right by his apartment complex. He'd gone there many times for painkillers and the occasional energy drink. He approached the white glow coming from the window, feeling the sweaty weight against his arm lighten from relief. Tommy's eyes scanned the windows quickly, "Son of a bitch!" He shouted abruptly. Neil wasn't startled; he expected Tommy's reaction.
The drug store was barred up. Tommy leaned into the official documents pasted on the window, stating that the drug store was closed for handing out medication without prescription. Tommy's eyebrow perked up and shrugged to himself. That was true. This was where he got his pills, "Gotta find a new place for my pills then,"
A chuckle came from the body clinging to him. It was small, weak and practically a puff of air. Tommy looked to him quickly, watching that tiny smile that quivered between joy and exhaustion. There were no other drug stores around. There was nowhere else to receive medical attention.
Except for his apartment.
"Look, kid, Neil," Tommy corrected himself quickly, "s'only drug store around here. Only place left to go is my place. I can fix you up there," He watched Neil's expression melt into a thousand different emotions wondering what to do. Someone had raped him, Tommy was sure from the blood staining the back of his jeans. He wouldn't force him to go home with him.
"I'll go with you," Neil murmured, expression obviously worried, "I'll go." He repeated. His eyes didn't bother meeting Tommy's.
The rest of the walk was silent. Both parties were clearly unnerved. Tommy feared accidentally scaring Neil away by bringing him to his home. The neglected beer bottles littered throughout the room and suspicious stack of pills would be more than enough to frighten anyone visiting. There were no elevators in the apartment, just a flight of metal frame stairs that buckled with every step. The first flight was no problem. Though Neil said nothing, Tommy listened to the whimpers that followed every slow step upward. Blunt nails dug into the thick sweater he wore and continued to dig the higher up they went.
Without waiting for consent, Tommy picked Neil up in his arms and held him bridal style. Neil protested and shook violently, his hand smacking at Tommy's face, "Neil, we both know you're not getting up these stairs on your own,"
"Screw you," Neil mumbled weakly.
Despite his words, Tommy knew he was grateful by the weak arms that looped around his neck and clutched to his massive neck muscles. Soft, black hair nuzzled against Tommy's stubble. Neil breathed a wet patch into his neck, his nose nuzzling a sensitive part of his neck. Tommy could smell the blood and sweat more than ever now. It was sour to his senses as if he could smell the shame and vileness from the act that produced it. Absently, Tommy wondered if Neil could catch the scent of a worthless vagabond from him.
Tommy fumbled the door open, giving it a sharp kick when it got stuck, "There," Tommy lowered Neil to his feet, catching him when he swayed. Tommy shut the door and headed straight to the kitchen, scrambling through cupboards before he retrieved the first aid kit he contained in an old toolbox. When Tommy turned around, he noticed Neil's eyes glued to him fearfully. Tommy sighed, "I know it ain't pretty but it's a first aid kit. Have to make do with what you've got," He popped it open, revealing the gauze, rubbing alcohol, and other necessities. Immediately, Neil slackened. His head shifted back and forth, looking for a place to sit.
Neil sat onto the couch gingerly after sweeping away the bottles. His hand rested upon an empty pill bottle but he brushed it aside without any questions. Tommy sat beside him soon after, damping a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol. Aloof as always, Tommy gave no warning as he pressed the cotton ball against the wound on his head. Neil flinched but remained passive other than that. He cleaned the wound without much trouble, placing a small bandage of the deepest part of the cut.
"I'll get you something to wear," Tommy got up from his seat and shoved the first aid tool box under the coffee table. In his room, he retrieved an old THEOGENES shirt he'd received as a present from Manny and a pair of boxers. There was no way Neil would have fit into any of his pants; he was practically a stick.
Tommy wasn't surprised to see that Neil had not moved a single muscle from where he had left him. The same blank look was on his face. The same emptiness in his presence. Tommy tossed him the small bundle of clothes and turned around, listening to the flutter of clothing as Neil slowly removed his own clothes. He wasn't sure why he did it but Tommy twisted his head around to look upon the frail young man. He gasped at the sight of the many bruises littered all over his body and heavily upon his hips and buttocks. Neil must've noticed the gasp and immediately jerked the THEOGENES shirt over his body as fast as he could. The boxer shorts were jerked up quickly, Neil almost stumbled over to wrestle them on.
"Neil, get over here and take your shirt off. I'll check if anything's broken," Tommy offered. Neil shook his head, refusing to face him as he hugged himself tightly, "Neil, don't be stupid." Tommy said. He reached forward and grabbed Neil's arm, instantly regretting his action.
Neil jerked away violently, cowering and shivering intensely as if he were struck in the face by a knife.
"Hey, kid, stop moving around!" Tommy called out, placing a hand on his shoulder to secure him only for Neil to freak out and slap him away, "What the hell's the matter with you?" With his effortless strength, Tommy easily secured Neil to the couch with both his hands before the teen lashed out and hurt himself. Neil continued to struggle and whimper before his body broke down into sharp convulsions and sobs, "Kid, Neil, I'm not going to hurt you," Tommy whispered, trying to soothe the fearful boy.
At closer proximity, Tommy noticed immediately his blown pupils and red-rimmed nostrils.
"You took cocaine?"
"No," Neil sobbed out, still wrestling in Tommy's grip, "He made me. Made me do it. Made me do everything. Made me suck him off. Made me. Made me..." Neil broke into a hysteric babble as he burst into tears again.
With nothing else he could think of, Tommy took Neil into his arms and hugged him tightly as he sobbed hysterically into his sweater. He didn't think of talking to him; Tommy had no idea what to say. All he could think of was a comforting hand patting at his back as it bucked with every gasp and hiccup. Neil cried till he was too exhausted to. His body became limp in Tommy's embrace. The older man loosened his hold, looking to Neil who now lay in his arms with his eyes shut and nose buried into his neck. He breathed softly, calmly, despite the mess he made on Tommy's shirt.
"Feeling better now?" Tommy asked. No response, the kid fell asleep.
He considered leaving him on the couch but reconsidered when the thought of the bottles, refuse, and potential weapons that could provoke a coked-up, hysteric rape victim came to mind. Instead, Tommy carried him to his room which was relatively clear of virtually anything but a dingy bed he had lifted from the sidewalk.
Tommy lay Neil down gently noticing that no matter where he'd move Neil's head, it'd always find itself back against Tommy's neck. He pulled the cheap comforter over him but before he could leave, he felt a clammy hand gripping onto his shirt tightly. Tommy looked down and watched as Neil kneaded at his arm just as he had before, kneading into his handle on reality.
"Neil," Tommy mumbled, shoving at the younger man. He didn't wake but the jostling loosened tears at his eyes. With a heavy sigh, Tommy wrestled away for a second, stripped down to boxers and a beater, and slipped beneath the comforter. He rested one strong arm around Neil who shivered and wept softly in his sleep, "What a mess," Tommy said quietly.
Sunshine cut through the blinds and struck Neil's face. His eyes twitched open at the light and he woke slowly. Absently, Neil found himself bathed in the most alluring musk he'd ever smelled. This was the scent of a true man, soft yet strong. He almost fell back asleep until he began recounting the events of last night.
Brighton Beach
Cocaine
Slut
Neil panicked at the arms curled around him. Was he trapped by that psychopath who raped him senseless? At the sight of the muscled, tattooed arms and not the thick fat arms of his assaulter, Neil relaxed. In his drug-hazed memories, Neil slowly recollected his memories of his protector. Tommy.
Now fully concentrated, Neil examined the bulky man slowly. He sat up, letting Tommy's arms fall down to his waist. The man was certainly not his type. He looked only a few years older than himself but something aged his appearance. His eyes fell upon dog tags hanging from the lamp and a blurry photo of what appeared to be a military camp. He was an ex-soldier aged by war. On top of this, he was ridiculously buff, almost comical when compared to the lanky Neil. His face was nothing special except for the pair of full, luscious lips that contrasted his gruff exterior. Neil couldn't resist reaching forward and pressing a fingertip to those beautiful lips, relishing in their plush texture.
Neil could not recount taking a shower before he had gone to bed. His hands fell upon the bandage on his forehead, courtesy of Tommy. He left the bed and headed to the bathroom while Tommy blissfully slept the hours away.
The hot shower was incredibly pleasant, cleaning away his filth and relaxing his sore muscles. Neil scrubbed himself down with the soap bar stuck to the bathtub edge. Neil had hoped for the soap to carry the same enticing scent as Tommy only to be disappointed when only a generic brand smell reached his nose. Same with the shampoo; Neil was evidently disgruntled. His distraction with the soap made him miss the heavy footsteps approaching the bathroom door. The door swung open with Tommy, half asleep, stumbling over to the sink.
"Shit, late for work,"
"Get out!" Neil cried, suddenly shivering in fear as he covered his body despite the shower curtain. Without any thought, Neil hurled the soap bar at Tommy, clocking him right on the temple.
"Jesus, alright!" Tommy shouted back, heading out before Neil threw something else at him. He shut the door with a loud bang, frightening Neil.
Neil sat in the tub for a few seconds, collecting his composure. As soon as it returned, he shut the water off and dried himself off quickly. With the boxer shorts and THEOGENES shirt barely on, Neil left the bathroom quickly, "Tommy?" He muttered, eyes first searching the bedroom before falling upon Tommy huddled on the couch eating a leftover chicken sub. Tommy looked to him for only a second before returning his attention to the sub.
"I'm sorry. It's just," The memories are painful in his mind. He can't recall them without bursting into tears.
Tommy tossed the sub aside on the coffee table, "Whatever. Here," He gestured to the seat beside him on the couch, "Eat something,"
Neil obeyed, taking a seat and biting into the sub. Vegetables and chicken breast with no dressing, Neil noticed. He wouldn't have expected a slob like Tommy to be such a healthy eater. The two said nothing; the two barely interacted. Neil merely watched as Tommy counted the bills in his hand and shoved them into the envelope. He scribbled down a name and address on the cover, barely legible.
"Who are those for?" Neil asked as he ate his sub.
Tommy peered at him, almost annoyed, but relented after, "Brother's wife. She's got two kids to feed."
"Why isn't he taking care of her?"
"He's dead."
Neil immediately fell silent. Figures, this man was a soldier. The aloof Tommy made no effort to restart the conversation letting them brew in silence for a while. Neil's mind wandered to his own borrowed clothing.
"What's Theogenes?" Neil asked, stretching his shirt forward so he could look upon the design. On his shirt was a sketch of what appeared to be an ancient Greek statue framed with cartoon pillars and the title THEOGENES right across his chest.
Tommy ignored him at first, merely working the envelope closed and stuffing it in his pocket. As soon as he finished, Tommy stretched back on the couch, resting his arms on the backrest, "Ancient Greek hero, fought 1400's games, never lost a single battle,"
Neil chuckled, "Never thought you'd be a classical civilizations fan,"
Tommy snorted, tugging at the sleeve of Neil's borrowed shirt, "One of my keepsakes from a friend. Never wore it ever," Tommy moved his hand as Neil fell back against the couch so he was level with Tommy's body, "Shouldn't you be heading to school now?"
Neil couldn't tell if his tone was serious or sarcastic, "I'm 19, you know."
Tommy snorted again, an obvious smirk in his voice, "You're kidding."
"Dead serious," Neil replied, smirking.
Tommy chuckled dryly as he stood, "Thought you were some high school punk. You should get going anyway," He headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower, "Keep the shirt. It'll never fit me anymore,"
"Figures, you're fucking massive," Neil said, earning another chuckle from Tommy.
Neil heard the shower start. He had finished his sub and there was nothing to do but wait. His phone was stolen, unfortunately, so he had no way of contacting Wendy. She would have been awake by now and worried. Neil had to go home but he felt that he should at least warn Tommy.
In the end, Wendy won out so Neil left a note taped to the couch before he left in his jeans and Tommy's shirt. He couldn't bear to look at the bloodied shirt anymore. All it reminded him of was the shame and suffering he endured. He hoped Tommy would burn it as soon as he found it.
Neil phased out of his life fast enough. Tommy had no expectations of seeing Neil while he took his shower. He skimmed the note and tossed it into a corner of his living room mess. His mind immediately snapped back to work. He had been hours late for the supermarket. He needn't check if he was still hired. The store owner specifically told him that a single fuck-up and he'd be gone.
Job-searching was the goal today. Tommy immediately got to it as soon as he sent his letter.
As he got dressed, he noticed the bloodied shirt left on the ground. He tossed it into the corner absently. The trash can was too far away.
His next morning job paid substantially better. Tommy worked as a cashier in a trinket store selling odds and ends like trick poker chips, decks of cards, loaded dice, and other pointless trick toys. Almost no one ever came in and those who did never asked him for help. Occasionally, he'd play around with the knick knacks. The multiplying poker chips were his favourite.
Tommy usually saved on lunch, opting for the cheapest food he could find. Today, however, he had made a bonus for fending off a couple rowdy teenagers smoking by the store. Today, he'd treat himself to something better. Tommy entered the local SUBZ and headed to the counter.
"Welcome to SUBZ, can I...Tommy!"
Tommy looked down from the menu on the wall and stared directly at Neil, "You always work here?"
"I changed to a morning shift," He replied, "Figured you ordered that sandwich from SUBZ," Neil immediately started on the sub without hearing Tommy's order, "Chicken breast, all veggies except pickles, no sauce?"
Tommy raised a brow, nodding, "Yeah. About right. Toasted,"
Neil stuffed the sandwich into the toasted oven. All that was left to do was wait for the sandwich to toast, "Didn't think I'd see you again. What are the odds?" Neil smirked, wiping down the tables, "I didn't get to say this to you last time. But thanks,"
Tommy nodded slowly, "Okay," He replied with his typical aloofness.
Neil removed the toasted sandwich, wrapping it up, "Why don't we head for lunch? It's been a while."
Tommy watched Neil for a second. He had no reason not to. Tommy complied, nodding as he took his sandwich, "Alright," He took a seat by the window, watching as Neil prepared his own sub and sat down in front of him. He cringed at the sight of the honey mustard, pulled pork sub stacked with cheese and bacon before him, "That's disgusting," Tommy muttered, jokingly yet in a solemn tone.
Neil chuckled, "You should try it. Wouldn't kill you to eat something unhealthy," He bit into it, moaning with pleasure as he did. Tommy ate his plain, somewhat bland sub quietly. Watching him, Neil tore a piece from his and handed it to Tommy, "Here,"
"Peace offering?" Tommy asked as he took the small piece.
"Think of it as converting you to the dark side," Neil replied. He watched Tommy eat the small bite reluctantly. Though he kept a poker face through most of it, Neil noticed the small twitch of a smile and brightness in his eyes as he chewed through the offering, "You liked it,"
Tommy shrugged, leaning back, "Not my thing,"
"Bullshit, you loved it," Neil pushed, tearing off another piece and handing it to him, "Hey!" Neil shouted as Tommy reached forward and grabbed the other half of his pulled pork sub from the wrapper and bit into it.
Tommy laughed at Neil's shocked expression while he consumed his delectable sub, "You're right. I did," He laughed harder as Neil pouted and grabbed Tommy's sub from the table, "Keep it," Tommy wolfed down the pulled pork sub. It had been a while since he had eaten something fatty and wholesome like that. Neil couldn't resist a smile at the sight of Tommy eating like a greedy child, "Nice place to work at. I could get used to this."
"It's alright. Free food and all," Neil said, finishing his half of the pork sub, "But the pay is horrible. Nash always trying to take my commission." He gestured to the mousy fellow by the counter who had taken over his lunch shift.
"Least you got commission, no one comes in where I work," Tommy replied, moving his attention to his bland sub.
"Where do you work?"
"Knick knack store,"
"A what?"
"You know, we sell little trinket things. Chess pieces, lighters, poker chips,"
"Sounds badass, maybe I'll visit tomorrow,"
Tommy nudged his head out the window towards the street directly across from them, "Down this street, forth store on the left," He finished his sub, licking the dried honey mustard off his fingers, "I'm at the cashier. Bring a sub,"
Neil chuckled, rolling up the wrappers and tossing them into the wastebasket, "It's a date," He joked as he stood.
Tommy stood up shortly after. His eyes fell upon the bandage tucked under his hat. It had only been a few days since that night. The bruises were probably still visible on his body. Tommy reached forward, touching his head gently, "You feeling better?" He asked.
Neil froze at first. He turned slowly, eyes meeting Tommy's soft, boyish stare, "Yeah. I'm a lot better," Tommy nodded, turning to the door, "Thank you. Really,"
Tommy didn't meet his eyes. He kept them fixed on the outside as he left the store, "See you tomorrow," He said, fast, reassuring.
The next day, Tommy stayed at the trinket store as he promised. Susan, who worked inventory, offered to bring him something from the coffee store down the street. Tommy declined her request, or rather ignored her completely, and waited behind the cashier. He continued rubbing the novelty poker chip in his hand, amused by how it appeared to give birth to two more chips as he rubbed.
"Having fun, aren't you?" Neil asked, plopping two subs onto the counter. Tommy looked up, smirking, "Let me play with those,"
The two sat behind the counter, subs beside them on their wrappers. As they did yesterday, the two shared a half of each other's sub: One healthy chicken breast and the other greasy, pulled pork sub. Neil watched with amusement as Tommy snapped the three chips together by rubbing them in his palm and then proceeded to rub them apart, giving them the illusion of multiplying chips.
Their lunch break quickly became playtime as Tommy took out several sample trinkets and they began tinkering around with them like overexcited children. Neil had a desk of rigged cards in his hands. After some shuffling and trickery, Neil withdrew a card.
"Is this your card?"
"Not even close," Tommy laughed, "I had the two of hearts,"
"Such a shame, I guess this trinket is broken," Neil rubbed the card between his thumb and forefinger, "Or maybe," The card split into two with the two of hearts tucked right behind it. Tommy nearly choked with laughter on his chicken sub.
Tommy applauded, wiping up his hands with a napkin, "Not bad," He picked up a set of red dice from the table, "How about this one?"
Neil took a dice from his Tommy's set, tossing it up and down in his hands, "Not bad. Loaded die, correct?"
"Rigged," Tommy corrected, "Depending on how you throw it, you'll get whatever number you want," He held two between his fingers and tossed them lightly into the penny tray by the cash register.
The two bent over, examining the numbers rolled by the dice, "Snake-eyes," Neil commented, picking both die up, "Let me try this out," He picked up all three dice in his hands, lodging them between the upper joints of his fingers.
"Mr. Riordan," A gravelly voice called out. Tommy whipped around, seeing the store manager standing behind him with coffee in hand, "What do you think you're doing with the merchandise? This isn't a playroom,"
Neil stood up quickly, wrapping their leftover subs as he stood, "I would like to purchase these," He placed the dice on the table, "I was just checking them to make sure they work."
The store manager wasn't a fool. He knew they were playing around but he also knew that customers were sparse and he had to take advantage of it whenever he could. He sold Neil the rigged dice and headed to the back of the store. Neil winked to Tommy as he left, asking him to lunch tomorrow at the sub store. Tommy obliged quickly.
From then on, the two always ate lunch together. They would alternate between the sub store and the trinket store. The meal was always the same, only a change in sauce for Neil's sub choice. However, when they were ambitious, the two would go out for coffee and donuts at the coffee store that sat directly between their workplaces.
At the trinket store, they spent most of their time playing around and doing stupid tricks to pass the time. Tommy swore their excessive playing helped gather more customers fascinated by two grown men playing with toys like children. At the sub store, however, the two often sat around chatting. It started off about work, then New York, before the topics became more and more personal.
"Wendy's says I'm starting to glow. Maybe it's because of you," Neil joked, biting into his sub.
"Who's Wendy?"
"I never told you?" Neil said. Tommy shot him a puzzled look in return, "She's my childhood friend. We're soul mates, always meant to be together," A small flash of emotion came upon Tommy's face. Neil barely caught it. He didn't know what it was but it made his heart wrench just a bit, "We're not dating. She's more like family," Neil finished up his sub, "I've told her things, secret things that I've never told a single soul. And she cares about me despite all that,"
"I had someone like that," Tommy replied, "Name was Manny. We were in the corps together. A true brother," A sad smile on his face made Neil's heart wrench again, "My mother died of sickness. Had no money, only thing left to do was to join the corps. Manny looked out for me; I never asked him to but he helped me out,"
Kind of like you, Neil wanted to say but refrained.
"He was like the brother I always wanted. Always laughing, always strong, even when I didn't want to be," From the sadness in his eyes, Neil could tell this story had a bitter ending, "He was killed in friendly fire. Last thing we talked about was his family. From then on, I promised I'd take care of them."
"So that's who you're sending the cash to," Neil said.
Tommy nodded, face tightening, "His wife and two kids. She's great; a good person," Tommy finished up the pulled pork sub, "You know, you're the first person I've ever told about Manny."
"Flattered," Neil replied, "And, I'm sorry. I mean, I saw the photo at your place. Must've been really important,"
"Yeah," Tommy said. The conversation died out soon after. Neil kept his eyes fixed on Tommy. Tommy's gaze couldn't affix itself onto anything. Tommy didn't even touch his food anymore.
The sight of Tommy hurt Neil, struck him with sorrow. His actions were almost involuntary. Neil's arms came around Tommy's body, clasping around those burly muscles and frayed jacket. He leaned across the table and embraced Tommy with all his strength. He expected Tommy to pull away. Who would want to be seen hugging onto a hustler? Especially a gay hustler? Instead, Neil felt Tommy tuck his head on his shoulder. Half-gloved hands crept around Neil's thin frame in a half hug. That natural cologne coming from Tommy intoxicated Neil again but he fought through it in order to let go.
Neil slowly released Tommy, eyes meeting his as he did, "My lunch break's done,"
"Yeah, me too," Tommy replied. His face appeared younger, more fragile. His eyes remained locked to Neil's. He broke away first after a staring contest between the two. Tommy packed up his part of the lunch and stuffed it into a doggy bag, "See you tomorrow, come to the trinket store,"
Neil nodded with a small smile on his lips, "Alright. See you."
Their lunches at the trinket store remained playful and light. Eventually, they ended up dusting off some ancient trinkets left over from the 70s and began playing around with them. On the other hand, their lunches at the sub store continued to get more and more personal. They wanted to learn more and more about the other.
It started with their closest friends. Neil told him about Eric Preston, his gothic punk best friend who was surprisingly finicky despite his wild appearance. He told him about his mother who could never keep a boyfriend down and how he had looked at her playgirl stash when he was younger which eventually led to him figuring out his sexuality. Tommy never judged him. Tommy accepted everything with seriousness shrouded in humour.
Tommy talked mostly about his time in the military. He talked about how he felt that it gave him purpose. Mostly, he talked about his friends in the corps. Manny was always first in his conversations, his true brother in arms and best friend. He noted Manny never shut up about his family so Tommy could now recite all of Manny's kids' first words. He moved to James, a British-American who had no sense of humour outside of snarky comments. Talking about his lost comrades made him smile but when he became emotional, Tommy never noticed, Neil would have his arms around him instantly.
One day at the sub store, Neil had been wearing the THEOGENES shirt he had taken from Tommy. The conversation inevitably reached Theogenes and why Tommy had the shirt.
"Mixed martial arts," Neil repeated, "Shit, I should've known." His eyes scanned Tommy's body.
"Yeah, was a big wrestler back in high school. Dad trained me since I was a kid," Tommy said, "My goal was to surpass Theogenes. Had a stupid little chart made too comparing me and him," Tommy chuckled hysterically, "Man, that was fucking stupid,"
Neil chuckled along, "I think it's kind of cute in a manly way," Tommy gave him a quick punch to the shoulder, "All I did was little league back in the day. That was only because my mom didn't bother getting a babysitter."
"You play with your dad?"
"Nah, I didn't have a father. Just some extra baggage from my mother,"
"Count your blessings," Tommy replied, finishing his first half of the sub, "I hated my dad," He picked at the olives on the wrapper, popping each one into his mouth, "Ex-marine, always drunk, beat us when we didn't get in line. Me and my mom fled from him; ran as far as we possibly could," He looked to Neil, "See? Could've been worse,"
Neil smiled half-heartedly. Tommy was so honest about everything he said. He was never afraid to hide his secrets from him. Yet Neil knew, if he told him his own flaws, Tommy would leave. His heart painfully withered at the thought of Tommy lashing out at him, calling him a fag, storming out of the store and never coming back.
A hand tousling his hair awoke Neil from his daze. Tommy swiftly messed up his hair and pulled his hand back, "Don't worry about it. It's a happier time now," Neil hadn't noticed the sudden sadness overtaking his face but Tommy had. He assumed it was sympathy rather than heartache.
"Right," Neil replied quickly, nodding, "I've never really been too attached to my mom. More like my friends who were my family," He muttered, quickly, to distract Tommy from his true feelings, "Anyway, that's the end of my lunch break. Next time, trinket store?"
Tommy nodded, wrapped up his garbage and headed to the door. Neil stood up quickly, "Tommy," He called out, "Are you busy tonight?"
"Yeah, busy for the whole night."
Neil slumped at his response.
"I'm good Friday," Tommy said.
Neil perked up, "Want to go to a bar? I'll meet you at your place at 9."
"It's a date," Tommy drawled casually as he left the store.
He hadn't noticed the shade of crimson that came over Neil's face.
Friday drew near. Tommy and Neil's lunch dates hadn't stopped. When they had exhausted everything to talk about, they began chatting about their own sandwich ideas leading to bizarre creations like beans and pickle on flatbread with potato salad. Neil knew he still had much to talk about. He had decades to talk about. He could never tell him. He couldn't let Tommy hate him.
"Hey asshole," Wendy said as Neil entered the apartment, "Left your hat on," Neil immediately took off the SUBZ cap, tossing it aside with his duffel bag, "Neil? Is something wrong?"
Neil shook his head, laying down on the bed, "Heading out tonight with a friend. Just thinking about what to do,"
"It's Tommy, isn't it?"
"How'd you know his name?"
"Nash told me about it. He said this big guy who works at the trinket store always stops by and eats lunch with you. He said you're always chatting it up in the store," Wendy said, sitting on the bed while Neil put his head onto her lap, "So, what do you think of him? Is he a keeper?"
Neil stretched out on the bed and covered his eyes, "Oh Wendy," He said, "I've never been so in love," He chuckled dryly, "He's not like those other people I've fucked. He's...he's Tommy. He's just Tommy. And god, I love him for it."
"You got it real bad, don't you?" Wendy smiled down on him, petting his hair gently while Neil played with the rigged die in his hands, "You know, Since that night during Halloween when we were kids, I always thought that you had a black hole where your heart was," Neil watched her as she spoke like a goddess to her loyal follower, "Neil, you've earned your heart back."
Neil smiled, weakly. That pit in his heart which lay all those tainted memories with his coach was crumbling. Tommy was so much more than him. Tommy was his saviour. All he wanted to do was confess his love to Tommy. It didn't matter if Tommy didn't return his love; he just needed him to know.
But he couldn't. With his heart, came all those secrets buried in it. He'd never told Tommy he was a gay hustler. He never told him how he made a hobby back in his hometown with fucking every man who dropped by the park. Never told him the thrill he got when he did it in public. Never told him about his first time. His coach. His angel. But Tommy told him everything from his deceased comrades to his abusive father.
"God I love him," Neil whispered as Wendy hugged him. But I can never have him.
"Neil, don't forget about going back to Kansas, remember?" Wendy said gesturing to the tickets on the coffee table.
"Fuck this," Neil mumbled as he snatched the tickets off the table, "In two days? Are you kidding me? Completely fucking forgot," Two days left in New York. Two days left with Tommy, "I can't go back. Not now,"
Wendy shook her head, "Neil, your mom's waiting for you. You have to go."
The conversation ended abruptly. Neil caught a glance at the clock, realized he was late, and rushed out the door. He ran to the station, utterly breathless even while he sat in the train car. The thought of never seeing Tommy again. Back to boring Kansas, back to all those johns. Neil screamed silently as he jogged down the street and up the stairs to Tommy's apartment. He knocked on the door, three quick pats. When no one came, he did it again. At the third time, Neil slumped to the floor by the door, resting his face in his hands.
"You feeling okay?" Tommy asked. Neil lifted his head, saw Tommy standing before him with grocery bags in hand, "Went to pick up groceries for Christmas," He extended a hand down to Neil who hastily took it and stand, "Something happen?"
Neil shook his head quietly, "Let's go," Neil straightened out his clothes, his mood. Today, he was just going to enjoy his time with Tommy, "I know a good bar around here. Got great drinks,"
With a change of clothes, Tommy and Neil headed down to the bar. The place was relatively quiet. Neil specifically picked the bar for its emptiness since he knew Tommy disliked crowded areas. He seemed horribly overdressed in a slick black shirt with his leather jacket and fine black jeans compared to Tommy's hooded sweater and sweatpants.
"Could've sworn you only own hooded sweaters," Neil joked, sipping his vodka as he stood by the bar.
Tommy sat on the stool, nursing a beer, "They're warm. They got pockets. They got a hood. What's there not to like?" Neil burst into laughter, "You doing anything this Christmas?"
I'm going home to Kansas. I might not even come back. The words never left his mouth. Neil nodded weakly, "Yeah," He murmured, almost silently. Tommy didn't catch it. He was too distracted by the beefy man with hawk-like eyes heading towards Neil with a lustful look.
"Hello again beautiful," The man muttered, pressing one arm against the bar and laying a hand on Neil's hip, "500 this time since you were so good to me last time," Neil was dumbfounded. He was frozen in fear. He never wanted Tommy to know this way. He never wanted Tommy to know at all!
"Hey, get off him," Tommy hissed, pushing himself off the stool, "He's not interested,"
"That's not what he said when he was fucking me with his cock for half the price a few weeks ago,"
Tommy wasted no time. He grabbed the beefy man and ripped him away from Neil. The man fought back, wrestling at his arm. Tommy's iron grip didn't relent. He threw one good punch at his face and the man fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes completely out cold. Neil stood there like a prize for the winner. His eyes locked to Tommy's but he tore away fast. He was shivering. His mind spun. Tommy knew in the worst way possible.
"Hey," Tommy murmured to him, rolling the man away with his feet, "Neil,"
"I'm sorry," Neil said, too afraid to face him.
"Sorry for what?"
"Being a hustler. A hooker. A call-boy. A prostitute," The words dribbled out from his mouth as if the truth just could resist slipping out, "Fucking men for money. I'm sorry I never told you even though you told me everything."
Tommy approached Neil, "There's nothing wrong. I mean, there's something wrong. But, you needed the money and-"
"I didn't need the fucking money. I did it for fun," Neil turned to Tommy with a heartbreaking smile on his face, "I fuck for fun. It makes me feel good. Fucked all the johns back in my hometown and half the patrons at a bar," He covered his eyes, couldn't bear to look at Tommy anymore, "I'm sorry that this is the way you had to learn this." He turned back to the bar, sipping his vodka with his eyes shut tightly waiting for Tommy to leave the bar in a huff.
Arms circled him. Strong, muscular, safe arms embraced him tightly. He felt Tommy's face against his neck. His plush lips nudged at the edge of his jaw. With one hand, he stroked down his head comfortingly.
Neil shuddered at the tightness and intimacy of the embrace, "Why are you comforting me?"
"Because you looked like you needed it," Tommy replied, blunt as always.
The two eventually found themselves in a booth far away from the front of the bar. It was tucked behind a pillar and away from the prying eyes of any of Neil's old customers. The two sat across from each other now nursing new drinks. Neil talked and only Neil talked. Tommy listened as Neil poured out the brutal truth. He listened to the stories of his little league coach, from the grooming to the pet names. He listened about the johns in the park and the calling card he'd left in the public bathroom. He listened to how he'd let men blow him in public; listened to the thrill it gave him of being in power. He listened to how a trick had gone bad and he ended up raped and tossed onto the curb. Listened to how all this time, he thought sex gave him power when all it did was reduce him to slave meat. Listened to how Tommy came into his life like a knight in shining armour. And when Neil finished, Tommy listened to him as he sobbed tearlessly.
"And this is what Neil McCormick is," Neil finished his stories. He gave Tommy the complete truth just as Tommy had given him the truth.
"Why did you tell me all of this?"
"You told me the truth. You deserved it too," Neil said, quietly, "And I wanted you to know all of me," Wanted to know if you'd love me through all this. Neil shut his eyes tightly as Tommy slid out from the booth. He forced himself not to cry. How cruel to finally earn his heart only to have it broken.
His faith was rewarded when Tommy slid up beside him and once again wrapped him in his arms. He kept his eyes closed, sinking into Tommy's powerful embrace.
"I haven't been completely honest to you," Tommy said, rocking Neil gently, "Tomorrow. Meet me at Lawrence station at 10. I'll show you where I get my money. And then I'll bring you home. And I'll show you more." His embrace didn't loosen. Neil didn't pull away. The two merely stayed entwined there for the rest of the night only pulling away to take a drink.
It had been late but Neil brought Tommy back briefly to Wendy's home. She was still awake, dressed in a nightgown and screaming when she saw Tommy's bulky shadow sitting by the window. They exchanged their greetings and Tommy left as soon as he could. Neil chuckled as he mentioned how aloof Tommy is to anyone he speaks to.
Wendy looked to Neil who held a sadness in his eyes despite the smile and drunken aura, "You didn't tell him you're leaving, did you?"
Neil shook his head, "Please keep an eye on him for me,"
Their lunch the next day was quiet. The two spent it in the coffee store both sipping a coffee and eating a donut. Neither looked discontent but both had nothing to stay. Tommy left first, reminding Neil to meet him at Lawrence station at 10 before heading out. Neil couldn't help but feel an inkling that something was going to go wrong.
Even still, Neil stood at Lawrence station in his leather jacket with his hands in his pockets. He watched the train for Tommy and was caught off guard when he approached him from behind, "Hey," Tommy called out. He was sweaty and dressed in a beater and sweat pants which showed off his marvelous tattoos. Through that thick sweat, Neil caught that familiar musk that drew him in, "Over here," His voice was breathy as if he had been exercising prior. From his state of dress, he probably was.
Tommy said nothing as Neil followed him through the alleys. From behind, Neil could've sworn that Tommy got bigger as he slipped further between the buildings
"Where are we going?" Neil asked. No answer.
The sound of crowds and violence became clear. The two approached a ring of people screaming for blood, tossing bills into a nearby oil drum. Two people stood in the center of the circle, wailing at each other without mercy. As soon as they saw Tommy, the crowd parted for his entrance and cheered. Neil watched as the fighters immediately stopped, looked at each other in desperation, and forfeit the match to Tommy. Up till now, Neil had only seen Tommy's back. When he turned, all he could see was a mindless monster with eyes burning with animalistic rage. Neil was frightened, terrified, but stayed his ground and watched as Tommy tossed his money into the oil drum. The crowd cheered frantically like hyenas over a fresh scrap of meat. A fighter jumped in. He didn't last long. None of them did.
Tommy ripped through his competition. Not a single person laid a punch on him. His glare alone drained his opponents' stamina. Not a single drop of humanity was in his eyes. Neil stayed far away from the crowd, close enough only to barely see Tommy in action. Tommy hadn't looked at him once; he thought he might've forgotten about him.
"Beautiful, you new here?" A man said to Neil. He could easily recognize the man as the first competitor who ducked out as soon as he saw Tommy, "I'm done for the night. How about a bar?"
"No thanks," Neil replied.
"How about a bed?" He added with a flirty smile.
"No," Neil replied. In an earlier time, he would've left immediately. Not today, he was here for Tommy and he'd stay for Tommy.
"Playing hard to get, you whore-" The man never finished. Tommy broke through the audience circle and slammed his fist right into the man's face, knocking him to the ground. The man curled, shielding his face as Tommy glared daggers at him.
Tommy's eyes shot up to Neil who was frightened by the feral rage in them, "You okay?" He asked, his voice gruff and wild sounding. Neil nodded meekly. Tommy returned to the circle as if nothing had happened and the crowd closed up his path.
From then on, no one dared to talk with Neil.
They had stayed there for hours. Even when they left, Tommy still carried the essence of a psychopathic killer. They had said nothing on their walk back to the station. Only when the two sat in the train car did Tommy begin to cool down and return to his aloof self.
"You okay?" Tommy asked again to the shell-shocked Neil.
Neil nodded weakly, "Fine, just frightened," He looked to the side, "Never been to a fighting ring before."
"It's not just that," Tommy said quietly, "You were scared of me. I looked like a monster, didn't I?"
Neil said nothing. It was true.
"I hid things from you. I hid things from everyone. Thought you'd hate me for it," Tommy said, looking to Neil through the corner of his eye, "Do you?"
Neil shook his head hysterically, "No way," He was scared that those fists would turn to him. He was scared that Tommy's glare would burn a hole through his soul. He was scared but he knew Tommy would never turn on him, "I'm not scared of you,"
A genuine smile flashed over Tommy's tired visage. His shut his eyes and reached an arm out to pat Neil's head, "Thank you. Goes a long way," Neil playfully smacked his hand away muttering 'I'm not a kid' to his hand, "There's one more thing I have to show you. In my apartment,"
Tommy brought him back home and immediately went to the bedroom. Neil followed dumbly, watching as Tommy removed his sweat soaked clothes right in front of him. Only in his boxers, which were clingy and worn in all the wrong places, Tommy reached into the drawer by his bed. He gestured for Neil to sit on the bed beside him without looking up leaving Neil a perfect view of his sculpted, tattooed back.
All the signals were there. Neil couldn't resist even when Tommy had began to talk. The words faded from his detection. Neil slid his hands over Tommy's perfectly sculpted back and he pushed his entire body against him. There was a thin layer of sweat but Neil didn't mind. He pressed his cheek to his back and breathed in deeply, relishing in his warmth.
Whatever Tommy had been fidgeting around with in his drawer was ignored. Tommy looked over his shoulder and watched Neil nuzzle his back lovingly. He dropped them back into their hiding place. From the jangling sound, Neil could tell that they were several dog tags possibly tangled in a clump. Tommy rolled towards Neil, back against the headboard of the bed. Neil snuggled against Tommy's chest, hands trailing down his body gently.
"I've never been with a man before," Tommy said, stroking Neil's back.
Neil smiled softly, lost in Tommy's presence, "I'll walk you through it,"
Neil stripped down to his boxers and slid down Tommy's body. He rested his head against Tommy's thigh, trailing feather light touches up his inner thigh with his hand. Through the boxer material, Neil's fingers stroked at his cock gently trailing up and down from his balls to the head. Tommy moaned softly. His voice was deep and growly when pleasured. Neil took note of this. When he was half-erect, Neil released his penis from the confines of his boxer shorts and immediately rubbed at it with his hands. Tommy's hips jerked forward, his hand grabbed onto Neil in sudden shock. His eyes were shut tight in ecstasy. Neil continued jerking him off, pushing Tommy closer and closer to the edge until his body was hot and sensitive. At that point, Neil enveloped Tommy's erection into his mouth and Tommy's mind short-circuited. He moaned, growled, sounding like a vicious animal in heat. It frightened Neil at first, thinking of that feral Tommy at the fight ring, but he remembered the gentleness of his savior and calmed down. His own erection was visible against his black boxers.
Tommy pushed Neil's head away, hoisted him onto his lap, and reached into his boxers. Neil cried out as Tommy jerked him off. He had plenty of orgasms from other men but this one felt pure. This pleasure felt warm and right. Neil moaned louder and his breaths became jerky and desperate. He clung to Tommy as the man took his large hand, encircled both their erections and rubbed them together. The throbbing heat threw them both into absolute wild pleasure. Tommy moaned outwardly, voice dark with ecstasy. Neil pressed his moan into Tommy's flesh, suckling on the back of his neck right beneath his ear, leaving a mark in its place.
The two came seconds apart. Tommy first, almost screaming as he came over Neil's body. He worked Neil faster as he rode through his orgasm, letting Neil share it by having him come seconds later. The two lay upon the bed basking in the afterglow. Tommy shifted down, letting his head fall onto the pillow. He pulled Neil down, letting him rest his head on his bicep.
"Tommy," Neil whispered, "I love you," His voice was so breathless; he wasn't sure if Tommy could hear it.
Tommy kept his eyes closed as he desperately tried to catch his breath. His head fell to the side and he gave him a weak smile. He put his arms around Neil, blanketing him in his sweaty embrace, "Neil, are you doing anything for Christmas?"
And everything struck Neil at once.
"I bought some cheap stuff from the grocery. Maybe we can throw it together, make a Christmas feast,"
"I can't," Neil whispered, heartbroken.
Tommy watched, his smile fading slowly, "Why not?"
Neil shut his eyes tightly, "I'm heading back to Kansas tomorrow," He pressed his hands over his face, "Shit, Tommy, I'm so sorry. I should've fucking told you,"
Tommy sat up from the bed, loosening his embrace, "When will you be back?"
"Maybe never," Neil replied, "New York was just experimenting," He covered his eyes again as he sat up, "Fuck, I'm so fucking sorry." He didn't hear anything from Tommy. All he heard was the sound of metal snapping by the bedstead. Neil looked up, watching as Tommy deposited the dog tag he had wrapped around the lamp into his hands, "What?" It was Tommy's dog tag. Thomas Conlon.
"This is yours," Tommy said, closing Neil's hand around it, "Send me a letter whenever you can,"
Neil nodded. Always, as long as he knew where Tommy was, he'd stay in touch, "Someday, maybe you could come with me. We'll meet again. I promise."
Tommy didn't respond but his eyes looked wishful. For their final moment together, Tommy pressed a kiss to Neil's lips. The kiss was dry and chaste, as if Tommy didn't really know how to properly kiss someone. Neil left shortly after, leaving behind a note with his home address. Neil left the apartment. Neil left the city. Never again would Neil be united with Tommy in New York.
Cause every night I will make it right,
And every night I will come to you!
But every night it just stays the same,
In my dream of an absolution!
Dreams of an Absolution - Lee Brotherton/Bentley Jones