9. Gas Station Lobster Rolls

Zack was gripping the wheel of the Jeep with a single, huge hand.

He had been humming to himself in an empty attempt to forget being chased by a horde of half-naked men in animal masks across Quiet Island. It wasn't helping. Every moment since he'd met Todd had been tense, strained, or downright odd. But for some reason,

His unease was compounded by the way the lampblack clouds blotted out the sky entirely—in the way shadows seemed to dart out from everywhere and anywhere all at once—as though what it was to be a shadow had somehow fundamentally changed in the past few days. Zack noted with relief that the tall, thick pines had begun to thin as the forest gave way to the open ocean, and he found himself breathing in the familiar ocean air with relief, wondering what thoughts might be blazing behind his companion's fiery eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked.

"Huh? Me? Yeah. Yeah, fine." Todd said unconvincingly, turning back to look off into the woods. Zack left him to his silence, worrying once more about the abrupt change that had overtaken Todd so inexplicably back at the pyre.

"You sure?" He pressed.

"I'm sure." Todd said, smiling weakly at him.

Up ahead he spotted the familiar sight of a Gas Station proudly advertising:

"FRESH LOBSTER ROLLS!"

It had been a long time since they had eaten. Zack was starving, and he felt his stomach rumble now at the thought of dinner.

"Num-num." Zack clucked at Todd, snipping at him playfully with a hand claw as he wheeled them into the station. "Food time. And someone owes me dinner." He teased, hoping Todd wouldn't be too averse to taking the plunge on Maine's famous gas station lobster. It was less gross than it sounded, and it had been a while since he'd indulged in this particular craving.

The pair satside by side on Bitchin' with their takeout.

Zack was munching down on his first lobster roll, enjoying how the crusty bread gave way to buttery lobster.

"So good, right?" He mumbled through his latest bite.

"The best." Todd agreed. "Gas Station Lobster Rolls must be why the cult set itself up here. They're in irresistible attraction." He joked.

"Definitely." Zack agreed, chuckling.

However, Zack still didn't know what he thought about the cult dudes. That had all been right up against the very edge of what his brain was willing to entertain as reality in any form. All he had been focused on earlier—back there on the island—had been doing anything and everything he could to get them out of there, to get Todd out of there. But then there had been that odd moment where Todd had been the one who had taken charge. Or some strange, darker version of him had. Zack was doing his level best not to think too hard about his sudden change.

"You don't think they can find us, do you?" Todd asked, glancing around nervously.

"Nah." Zack assured, finishing his first roll. "Viktor is the one who should be worried. Technically he's the one who has what they want."

"Yeah…" Todd said uneasily, trailing off.

"Right?" Zack pressed, suspicious now as he sensed Todd withholding something.

"Definitely. Although, you should probably know that the old man knew my name."

"He what?!" Zack choked.

"It's…I don't think it's a big deal."

"I'd say that's a pretty big deal, Todd." Zack muttered grumpily. He grabbed his second roll and chewed away at it angrily, not enjoying it nearly as much as he had the first. Dinner had been on Todd. He'd insisted, and Zack had let him do it—conflicted with feeling instantly bad taking him up on the offer but allowing him to pay nonetheless.

"I'm sorry I should have told you sooner." Todd mumbled, slurping his cola. An awkward silence stretched out between them.

"You think?" Zack growled. Angry now.

Todd was silent.

The dark clouds that filled the sky had just eclipsed the last glimmers of sunset, and a pink-and-blue neon sign sparked to life brilliantly over the parking lot just then, sending its electric colors jolting and racing across it, flickering and twinkling in the shallow puddles.

"Not the worst restaurant you've ever been to, though, right?" Zack asked after a minute.

"Not by a mile." Todd agreed softly.

His soft voice made Zack reach out and touch him for a long time. But once again, he felt himself fear coming on as something he didn't intend. Needy? No. Domineering? Maybe. He couldn't explain his doubts, not even to himself. Maybe it was just his inexperience. His unfamiliarity with these turbid and shadowy waters? He'd spent his whole life swimming, and yet he'd never had time—no, opportunity—to really take this plunge in any meaningful way. His mind was spinning.

Sure, there had been occasional flings, some lasting weeks or months, off and on, but there had never been anyone serious—nothing real. He'd never really felt much of a connection to any of the others, woman or man, other than a brief glimmer of hope drowned swiftly by a deep hurricane of disappointment. And then…there had been Todd.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as those nasty clouds found them at last. The first pitter-patters of rain began to flicker all around them—diving headfirst through the neon light, obliterating themselves against the black pavement in brilliant pink and blue explosions.

"Best get going…I don't want my princess to get wet." He said, flicking Todd playfully on the shoulder with a thick forefinger before finally allowing himself to reach out and ruffle Todd's hair after all this time, after all this longing. Zack loved the way those curls felt in his fingers. The way the haphazard lace felt at once both thick and silken—like it was both real and not. It felt like little wisps of cloud somehow here for him to hold onto.

"Who are you calling princess?" Todd moaned. "Talk about internalized misogyny. It's 2024, get with the times."

"Oh great we're doing this now?" Zack moaned.

"Oh yeah," Todd teased back. There is never a wrong moment to correct a bad habit. My mom used to say that. She was a princess." Todd laughed.

The noise had Zack's big heart thudding in his chest, and his lips curled into a broad, easy smile. What was this feeling? This…he searched…sense of something more. Something solid. And even as he wished to grasp the strands of the thought—the idea of them—they fell through his broad digits like so many clouds. And he could not hold onto all of it. Zack floundered helplessly for a moment. But then he regained a bit of the certainty he'd always carried across his broad shoulders, a bit of that hallmark determination he'd developed all those years he'd swam competitively…

Zack dove in to Todd.

Using his athleticism, he swung himself around to straddle him, his focus darting across Todd's whimsical freckles and down to his soft, small mouth. Zack tightened his grip on the back of Todd's head, squeezing the cloud curls right up to the boundary of where he believed pleasure and pain to meet in ecstasy—and kissed him freely, fiercely—under the neon light as the rain wet their faces and lips.

Zack felt Todd's mouth purse in surprise at first, the sudden contact startling him—but then quickly, so quickly, he gave way as Zack bit his lower lip playfully before sliding his big tongue into Todd's mouth, pushing himself into him and all the while squeezing tighter and tighter. He knew the weight of him pressing down onto Todd was the cause of the ginger's now-fervent, fevered breaths. Zack could feel Todd thrusting up against him, begging him for more, and he loved the desperation he could feel in their contact—the need. They redoubled the frenzy of their kissing, the stubble on Zack's face scratching roughly against Todd's smooth skin as neon painted their passions in wildly glimmering colorways.

A flicker of headlights, then, as a car passed by along the roadway had whipped Zack back into the reality he'd been escaping—and he found himself half-kissing, half-laughing into Todd's face as he released the back of his head, not wanting to dismount, yet—partially do to the obscene bulge now arcing wildly against his black joggers.

"We should probably wait until we get home before…you know." Zack winked at Todd, jumping to the ground and tucking himself into the waistband of his pants—self-conscious of how difficult it was to contain his manhood.

"Agreed." Todd replied, hopping off too. "Besides I don't think ‘Bitchin' likes me that much. I'd hate to make her jealous."

"Aw come on, I'm sure you'll grow on her." Zack chuckled, looking uneasily at the sky as thunder rumbled in the distance. "Seriously though, let's get going."

The rain began to pour as he fired up the Jeep and set off into the dark.