Tripod Position Page 3

  No response.

  With a frown Matt jerked awake, only to find a stranger standing before him. It was the same guy from earlier in the evening, the one who'd hit on him before Vic intervened. Here in the relative quiet outside the club, the man's skin gleamed with sweat. His leather shirt was unbuttoned to his navel, and the front of his jeans were unzipped, allowing an erection to bulge through the open fly. His hand stroked Matt's arm gently.

  Matt raised his gaze to meet the man's. He didn't quite care for the way those shiny, dilated pupils stared at him. Possessive. Demanding. Needy. Clearing his throat, Matt sidestepped out of reach and said, "My friend's coming right back."

  "Can't we have a little fun until he does?" The man placed his hand on the wall by Matt; the other drifted to Matt's chest, where it picked at the snaps on the front of his leather vest.

  Matt slapped that hand away. Another step brought him to the edge of the building--the dark alley yawned behind him. When Matt glanced into its maw, another man appeared from the shadows, hemming him in. This one had the same wild eyes, the same smarmy grin. He touched Matt's ass, hands curving over Matt's buttocks without hesitation. "Hey," he purred. "Come back here a minute."

  "No."

  Too late, Matt realized he was trapped. The first man closed the distance between them, backing Matt up against his friend, whose hands roamed over Matt's hips to poke into the breakaway crotch of his shorts. A couple snaps broke free, granting him access.

  "No," Matt said again, louder this time, but the arms around him tightened, pulling him back against the hard body behind him and the first man stepped into the alley, blocking out the light.

  Matt squirmed, trying to hold one man at bay while struggling against the other's hold on his waist. But strong hands caught his wrists, heavy boots kicked his feet out of the way, and Matt found himself pinned between the two men. The one in front of him leaned down, pushing his hips into Matt's, the weight of his chest crushing Matt's own. This close his breath was hot and sour, and when he licked out, his tongue seemed to burn Matt's skin. "Don't fight so much," he whispered. "You might even like it."

  Matt shook his head. "No." His voice grew louder each time he said it. "No. No." He pushed and fought, but he was tired and drunk. No match for the men who held him. As they shuffled him into the darkness of the alley, Matt cried out in mental anguish, ::Vic!::

  His lover's presence filled him instantly. ::Matty? What--::

  Then indignation rose in him, spilling over from Vic's emotions. Matt felt his lover's strength flare through his own body, a brief flash like lightning that cast off the shadows of drink still clinging to Matt's muddled mind. The power was gone before he could use it, but he didn't need it. Vic was on the way.

  Even over the sounds of their scuffle, he heard the front door of the club being kicked open. Taking a deep breath, Matt called out, "Here, Vic! I'm over here! In the alley--"

  A firm hand clamped over his mouth, silencing him.

  It didn't matter. Matt felt Vic in him, felt the anger swirl through them both, and his heart almost burst with love when Vic stepped into the alley. His bulk looked intimidating, back-lit by the streetlight. When he spoke, his voice rang out like judgment. "Let him go."

  The man in front turned, blocking Vic from Matt and his friend. "Who invited you?" he asked with a laugh. "Your boy's playing with us now."

  Vic made a hostile noise of disgust in the back of his throat. It sounded like a wild animal snarling in the darkness, and only enhanced the danger underlying his words. "I'm going to break one of your bones for every place on his body you touched."

  When he stepped forward, the two men shuffled back, Matt between them. The hand on his mouth had slipped; Matt bit at it, then cried out, "Vic!" The hands holding him tightened. Frustrated, he tried to wrest free and couldn't. Vic was right there. "Just kill them already, will you?"

  That earned him a punch in the kidneys. "Shut up," the man behind him growled.

  "Vic--"

  The man in front of Matt lunged, throwing an unexpected punch. It caught Vic in the jaw and he staggered back, placing one hand on the side of the building for balance. A sudden sound filled the night, a rippling, tearing noise that seemed to swell in the alley and press against Matt's eardrums until he thought they'd burst. "Vic!" he shouted, covering his ears with his hands. His lover's confusion swirled through him. ::What's happening?::

  Despite the situation, Vic sounded mildly amused, as if he'd had everything under control until...until this. Whatever this was. ::Something new, I guess.::

  Matt glanced at his lover and his mouth fell open in shock. Where Vic touched the building with the palm of his hand, his skin had deepened, thickened, until it looked like the bricks had grown over his hand. No...they traveled up his arm like an encroaching rash, his skin hardening, reddening, turning into brick itself. As Matt watched in horror, the brick advanced over Vic's shoulder, up his neck, over his face. It spread beneath the mesh top he wore to gird his chest. His tattoos looked like so much graffiti sprayed onto skin that had morphed into...into...

  Brick.

  Across his shoulders, down his other arm, to a fist that crackled when he clenched it. The man who had thrown the punch stared at that fist, eyes wide. With a laugh, he joked, "Whoa. What a bad time to trip out."

  The guy behind Matt gasped. "This ain't no trip--I see it, too! Motherfucker's a goddamn wall, man! A goddamn wall."

  His friend took a step back, one hand in front of him as if that alone could stop Vic. "Can't we talk this out?"

  "Too late," Vic snarled.

  With a fist that literally was a ton of bricks, he hit the man in the chest, dropping him to the ground. He gasped as the breath whooshed from his body and moaned once when Vic kicked him aside.

  The man holding Matt finally let go.

  Vic didn't let him get too far. The moment he lost touch of the building, his skin began to change back to its usual pale form. He brushed past Matt as he hurried after the other guy; Matt whirled to keep them in view and saw his lover stick out a hand to connect with a green dumpster farther up the alley. Instantly, Vic's skin turned to paint-flecked steel. When the man he chased stopped and turned, brandishing a knife, the blade snapped in Vic's metallic fist. So did the bones in the man's hand. His scream of pain rose into the night.

  God. Matt staggered on his feet as unspent adrenaline coursed through his system. His hands shook; he crossed his arms and clamped his hands beneath his elbows, holding them against his body to keep them from trembling. When he looked down, he saw the man at his feet, blood bubbling from his nose and mouth. Behind him, the scream cut off, the ensuing silence abrupt. What had he said? Just kill them already...

  He hadn't meant it literally. Vic wouldn't do it, would he?

  Would he?

  To protect him, Matt thought maybe he would. "Vic."

  Strong hands touched his shoulders, then smoothed down his arms. He found himself being drawn into a loving embrace. ::I didn't mean for this to happen,:: he said when he felt Vic kiss the nape of his neck. ::I was only kidding.::

  Picking up on Matt's fearful thoughts, Vic assured him, ::They aren't dead.::

  Matt closed his eyes and felt his lover guide his consciousness beyond the confines of his body. He touched on the two men's minds--yes, still alive, and very much in pain. He felt a little better. No, a lot better. ::That should teach them the meaning of the word no,:: he thought as Vic's presence enveloped his. Then, recalling how Vic had subdued them, Matt asked, ::So what's this freaky new power you've got?::

  Vic grunted. "I touch something, I turn into it. Look."

  Glancing down, Matt saw his lover's hands on his own. They looked normal enough, flesh and bone. But as he watched, Vic smoothed his hands up over Matt's chest and the skin blackened to match Matt's leather vest.

  "You probably should drive home," Vic said softly. "If I touch the steering wheel, I'll turn to plastic."

  Worried, Matt glanced over his s
houlder at his lover. "Vic? I'm three sheets to the wind. How can I--"

  ::I'll help,:: Vic assured him. ::You just sit behind the wheel and I'll steer, what do you say?::

  What could Matt say? He felt protected in these arms, loved by this man, and even the strange new ability of Vic's couldn't tamp down the desire rushing over him at the memory of his lover once again coming to his rescue. Then an amusing thought struck him. "If you touch the car window, will you turn to glass?"

  He felt Vic shrug against him.

  Matt turned in his lover's embrace, a grin already tugging at his lips. "Let's find out."

  J. M. Snyder

  An author of gay erotic/romantic fiction, J. M. Snyder began self-publishing gay erotic fiction in 2002. Since then, Snyder has released several books in trade paperback format and has begun exploring the world of e-publishing, working with both Aspen Mountain Press and Amber Quill Press. Snyder's highly erotic short gay fiction has been published online at Ruthie's Club, Tit-Elation, Sticky Pen, and Amazon Shorts, as well as in anthologies by Aspen Mountain Press and Cleis Press. A full bibliography, as well as free fiction, book excerpts, purchasing information, and exclusive contests, can be found at: http://jmsnyder.net

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