Flight 12

Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER 13 – SOMETHING AMBER, SOMEONE BLUE

Previously, at the Phallic Tower:

• Seth, Harry, and Paul find a source of water. While Harry and Seth spot another piece of airplane wreckage, Paul seeks and finds the blue dodecagon. It seems to (invisibly) fuck him before collapsing under his feet, and he falls into the earth. Harry distantly witnesses the event.

• This reduces the number of tower residents to eleven: Seth, Harry, Augie, Ed, Leo, Vic, Dai, Gary/Ray/Cody, and three men we don't know much about yet – Jasper, Tim, and Lucas.

Elsewhere on the island:

• The plane's left-siders have mostly been imprisoned underground. Three were left on the surface for Percy to pursue for sport. Percy finds and fucks the first, a gay Bahamian named Piers, and sends him underground, leaving two more targets: Piers's straight friend Theo – and Abe.

In a flashback:

• Seth and Abe have a no-sex date at an Armenian restaurant. Seth says that his `complicated history' may be a story for a fourth date, which Abe decides should be now – and takes him back to his apartment.

[Author's Note: the events in this chapter overlap in time with those of the previous one.]

• • • • • • • • SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2 * * * * * * * *

THE PHALLIC TOWER – JASPER

It's like the gods are conspiring against me.

I enjoy having sex; I LOVE having sex – which is great, but my entire self-image is dependent upon how often I have it. If I go more than two days in a row without sex, I get depressed and head for the clubs to pick up somebody. It's not hard – I have been blessed with good looks; the fact that they might recognize me from TV (I'm a local news reporter) doesn't hurt either. It makes for shallow arrangements and I have more sex partners than close friends, but I just can't help myself. I know that ultimately happiness will depend upon finding someone I can relate to on more than a put-my-dick-in-your-hole level; I need to think of men as complete human beings, not just bodies to conjoin with. But so far . . .

A friend suggested I see a therapist who specializes in sex addiction. I did, and was so turned on by him I couldn't concentrate. The only solution was to switch to a woman, so I wouldn't be tempted. And she laid down the challenge: can you spend a week on a Caribbean island without having sex?

So what happens? I get marooned with eleven other men, most of them young, hot, and – to ice a tempting cake – gay. Everywhere I turn there are sexy, gorgeous asses I long to plunder. And – I don't know how to explain it, but there's a weird kind of sexual energy in this place. It's like everyone is secretly longing to hump everybody else, aside from the straight guys – who might be limited to Augie and Ed. But I'd gladly hop into the sack with either of them if the opportunity arose. (Yeah, even Ed – I'm not a snob about age. He keeps himself in shape, I'd do him.)

Harry is nice, but I've never been into chubs, figuratively or literally. Otherwise, every other body seems to exist just to torture me. When Paul woke up this morning wearing only that jock, it drove me wild. His ass is so goddamned perfect – if he's not gay, it's a waste of God's talents. Dai is similar – on the short side (about 5'7"), trim but rounded, his body a continuous contour of curves and the most gorgeously perfect round melons surrounding that sacred vessel I so longed to invade. Augie, Ray, and Tim were taller, with more rectangular asses, not the bubble-butts of Paul and Dai, but yeah, I like that type, too. Vic and Seth were the opposite of Paul and Dai: big guys, muscular, with toned butts that might as well have been made of solid steel. They could easily overpower me, but fucking those hard bodies would be a thrill.

There are two men I've left out of this analysis: Lucas and Leo. Lucas was taller than me but similarly built - fit, strong, but not a muscle god like Vic or Seth. Although he kept it in his pants, he seemed to be packing a pretty generous piece of meat and might just be the top stud among us. Were he a different sort of person, I'd have happily coupled with him – even let him top me. But Lucas didn't press my buttons – mostly because he was a prick, and I rarely get turned on by someone whose personality disgusts me.

I say rarely, because Leo also was a prick. And yet one look at him stiffened MY prick. It was Chemistry City, I just wanted him. I wanted his taste, his smell, his touch, I wanted to wash his entire body with my tongue and then take him for a ride. But I didn't like him.

Interestingly enough, when I came back from completing my biological functions, these two were getting into it – and not in the good sense of that term.

• (Lucas) Okay, kid, give me back my shoes.

• (Leo) Hell, no. I'm not giving up these clothes. Mine were stolen, remember?

• Yeah, which is why I gave you my shoes.

• Exactly. You gave me your shoes. Gave them.

• They're my shoes.

• You know what they say, dude – possession is two-thirds of the law.

• It's `nine-tenths', and it's a stupid saying anyway.

• I need shoes.

• And I don't? You deserve them more than me?

• Yeah, I do. Anyway, you're not barefoot, you've got socks.

• Christ, you're a piece of work. If I had you in Chicago, I'd . . .

• You'd what?

• You don't want to know.

• Whoa, I'm so scared.

I didn't want to know, either; there WAS something a bit scary about Lucas.

Tim Fallon was standing nearby, witnessing this exchange. Tim was barelegged, wearing only a polo shirt, underwear, socks and shoes, having let Leo borrow his pants while Leo's clothes had dried. He looked at me sheepishly.

• I was going to ask for my pants back, but I don't think now is the time.

• I mean, all you really need is underwear, right? Leo needs something to cover his junk.

• True, but the kid is hot, he shouldn't be ashamed to show his body off.

So Tim is gay, too. Add him to the list of guys I'd fuck if only I could. Which would, sadly, be headed by Leo.

But I couldn't fuck Leo. I didn't want to go near him, or Paul or Dai or anyone else. It was as if this voyage had been designed especially to test my resolve, my ability to resist. Dr. Faraday wouldn't know if I succumbed to temptation, but I'd know – and I don't lie to her. I felt like Odysseus sailing past the Siren, but there was nobody to tie me to the mast. I had to do that myself. I had promised. It was part of my therapy. Leo was off limits: No sex, please, he's British – or used to be.

[Author's Note for the mystified: There was an English farce entitled "No Sex, Please, We're British."]

It came time for us to set out on expeditionary hunts for food, water, and signs of other humans, in groups of threes. Seth and Harry were going off with Paul; Vic, Augie & Ray formed a trio; a third group had Dai, Lucas & Tim, leaving only the Niemanns without a third. Ed courteously (of course – he was English nobility) invited me to join him and his son. The son whom I disliked – and lusted after.

We found no water or signs of other humans, but we did find some papaya trees. I took off my shirt so that we could carry more of the papayas back to the tower. Leo kept his on; he should have stuffed as many papayas as possible into his shirt front, but he didn't, letting me carry them all.

Leo struck me as a spoiled brat. The son of a knight – although fully Americanized – he's probably had everything handed to him his whole life, and seems to treat the world as if they owe him, rather than vice-versa. However, I was glad he kept his shirt on; to see him bare-chested would have stiffened my rod.

And then it happened. As we rose to the crest of a small hill, we found another of those dodecagons. Though I had seen a (violet) one yesterday without incident, guys had told me that a yellow one had freaked Ray out and he'd propositioned Augie (of all people). In addition, there were whispers that something had happened with Paul at a blue dodecagon yesterday, though those in the know were keeping it under wraps.

This one was amber – halfway between orange and yellow – one of the twelve colors on the tower.

Leo took off his (Ed's) shirt. And his (Lucas's) shoes. And his (Tim's) pants. These three items were all he'd been wearing. My cock twitched.

Naked, Leo bounded down the hill toward the dodecagon. Ed chased him, displaying remarkable speed for a fifty-year-old. I dropped the papayas, picked up Leo's discarded attire, and followed. When Leo reached the dodecagon, he began dancing on it, while his father was screaming at him. Leo beckoned to me.

• Come on, Jasper, fuck my ass!

• (Ed) Leo!

• Dad, don't be such a wet blanket. You know I'm gay.

• What I know is that you've gone absolutely bonkers!

• Not bonkers. Naked, I've gone absolutely naked! That's the best way to have sex! Come on, Jasper, fuck me! I know you want to. You've been staring at me since the airport.

He was right about that. I looked at that voluptuous ass, that sinuous body, and I craved it. Bizarre as it seems, I had the sense that the island wanted me to fuck Leo. Leo certainly wanted me to fuck Leo. And every cubic inch of my body wanted me to fuck Leo. But I had to resist.

Ed charged after his son and tried to pull him off the dodecagon but, fit as he was, his efforts weren't enough.

• (Ed) Jasper! Help me!

Oh, shit. You want me to actually touch him without spilling my seed in my pants?

I took a deep breath, and stepped onto the dodecagon. Ed had hold of him from behind, so I grabbed him from the front. This gave Leo the opportunity to push his mouth against mine and instantly I was hard as a rock. One of Leo's arms was free and he managed to lower it to my crotch and pull down my zipper. Ed and I were making progress pulling him off the dodecagon, but by the time we achieved it, Leo had pulled my erect cock through the vent in my boxers.

Having finally extracted him from the granite slab, we dragged him halfway up the hill, Leo struggling all the way, me struggling to keep from creaming. Fortunately, with Leo in between us, Ed was unaware of the tumescence – and exposure – of my penis.

When we were sufficiently far from the amber dodecagon, Leo stopped struggling. I broke free, spun around before Ed could see my erect cock, tucked myself back in, and stood there ready to intervene if Leo's libido kicked in again. However, he just looked embarrassed, as if he had snapped back to reality. I hadn't wanted to look at his groin, but he was fully engorged – and god, did my mouth long to close around that dick.

• (Ed) Get your bloody clothes on, son.

And then he turned to me.

• Thanks for your help, Jasper. Couldn't have done it without you.

He was so focused on his naked son that he didn't notice the bulge in my pants.

He looked back at Leo and scowled.

• Bloody poofter.

THE WOODS – SETH

• Where's Paul?

• (Harry) You didn't see that? The blue dodecagon?

• You found it? He found it? You can't see it from here.

• Oh. True, you can't. Come with me.

We scurried down the hill where there was a gap in the trees. Harry was about to point through them into a valley below when he stopped.

• It's gone.

• What's gone?

• The blue dodecagon. It was here a minute ago, I swear. Paul was bent over, yelling `Fuck me' – with his arms stretched out like he was hugging someone and rocking back and forth like he was having sex, even though he was completely alone. And then . . .

• And then?

• It . . . swallowed him. It collapsed like a big sinkhole and Paul fell into the earth. And then I went to get you but . . . now it's all gone – Paul, the dodecagon, the hole, like none of this happened.

• What do you want to do, Harry?

• Go down there. I swear there was a dodecagon, Seth. Blue, just like he was looking for.

• I should never have let him come this way.

• You couldn't have prevented it. He was determined to find it no matter what, he thought it would free him from that jockstrap.

We trotted down to where Harry said the dodecagon had been. We found no trace of it, or any indication that the ground had been disturbed, nothing that gave credence to Harry's story – except that it was HARRY'S story, not that of some fabulist.

• Do you want to dig? We could find some sharp rocks or tree branches and –

• Seth. If there was a blue dodecagon here two minutes ago and now it's disappeared along with Paul, then it's powerful enough to not let us dig him up with a tree branch.

• Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck shit.

• That about sums it up.

• We have to warn everyone to stay the hell away from these dodecagons. But how can we, Harry? It's a ridiculous story, who'd believe it?

• They'll believe you, Seth. Everyone knows this place is strange. It –

• They'll think we're dead. Especially now that Paul . . . looks like he's been buried alive. It will convince them that we're dead.

• If we were already dead, why would Paul get killed a second time? And your note said specifically that you were not dead.

• But Paul is, now.

• Looks like it. But this place is so strange, Seth – anything's possible.

• Anything's possible. I have to hold on to that. Maybe Paul's alive. Maybe – maybe Abe's still alive.

MIDDLE OF THE ISLAND – PERCY

Both of them! My sensor was going nuts. Both Derisian and Sebold were within range. The louder ping belonged to Sebold. Derisian was nearby, but further. I'd target Sebold, taking into account that he was straight, unlikely to bend over willingly. I'd have to use force.

MIDDLE OF THE ISLAND – ABE

I had to accept it: Seth was dead. Miraculously, our half of the plane had landed softly just off the coast of this island – that still didn't make sense – but there was no way that Seth's half could also have survived the plunge from the sky. Happy birthday, Abe – your lover is dead.

This trip had been so full of promise. It was both my birthday and close to the first anniversary of our first date. There had been recent tension between us – ninety percent my fault. Seth thought the trip could supply the jumper cables that would re-energize the motor. After some thought, I realized I wanted exactly that – so yes, let's go.

I realized some other things, too. Like some bad choices I had made.

But then the plane broke apart. I'd gone to sleep on a beach with a dozen others – and awakened alone. Stan and Al had seemed like nice guys; we used each other's bodies for pillows. How could they have just up and left me? What kind of person would do that?

I had to find a way out of this situation – and out of my despair. I wandered all day yesterday and found no one. No one at all – everyone who had washed up on the beach – vanished. What the fuck had happened to them? I found some fruit to stave my hunger, I found a stream for hydration, then curled up alone for a second night on the beach. I felt like Robinson Crusoe with no Friday. He eventually surmounted his difficulties – would I?

Today was more of the same, exploring new areas of the island, passing through a hilly wooded section which eased its way down to a place where the woods opened up into a giant meadow. And I heard noise. Human noise.

I was thrilled – initially. Even from a distance, I recognized them: One was the flight attendant, Percy, now inexplicably dressed in a sort of caftan. The other was a Black Bahamian named Theo. Of all the guys on the beach, he was the handsomest – someone whom a year ago I would have happily taken home for a night's escapades. He had a gorgeous body and a David Oyelowo kind of face. Sexy as all-get-out.

But then Percy picked up a stone and hit Theo on the back of the head. Theo fell to the ground, and Percy began stripping off Theo's clothes and dropping his own. It looked for all the world like Percy was going to rape an unconscious Theo. I was frozen. I should run across and help, but – Percy had that stone. What if he knocked me out as well? He was a danger, I needed to stay out of sight.

My fears were actualized: Percy started to fuck Theo. I couldn't believe my eyes. We were on an isolated island in the middle of nowhere, with no sign of rescue, and the flight attendant was raping one of the passengers?

Theo regained consciousness but was obviously not clear-headed enough to put up much resistance; he lay there while Percy thrust himself deeply into the Black man. I was paralyzed – in a video, this would have been hot; in reality, not so much.

When he had bred the Bahamian, Percy dressed and the two engaged in conversation. I saw with alarm that Percy was pointing a knife at Theo's chest, like a clichéd scene from a TV crime show. They headed into some woods, leaving Theo's clothes behind. Percy pulled out his phone from a pocket in the caftan (caftans had pockets?) and talked into it.

He was making a phone call! Was this some kind of hot spot where you could get a signal? I dug my own phone out of my pocket and tried it. Nothing.

Now what? I had to make sure I avoided Percy. I backtracked, heading toward the beach – I was getting hungry again and I knew there were coconuts there that had fallen to the ground. After eating, I gathered some stones and shells and wrote `HELP' in large letters, just in case a plane passed overhead. I walked further along the coast. It was approaching the end of the day, judging from the position of the sun.

I sat down, took stock of my situation, and cried. I was alone, I was afraid, and Seth was dead. Seth was dead! I'd arrived on this island on my fucking birthday and Seth was dead!

And we were going on this trip – why? Because things were tense. I loved Seth – I really did. Especially after what he had done on our trip to Indiana. But I had cheated on him. It had been going on for months. Most recently just a week ago, when Seth had tickets for a concert for a now-geriatric rock band. I declined the invitation. And accepted one I shouldn't have.

I think he knew. I don't know how he would have found out about the other guy, but there was something in the way he proposed the trip to Aruba that made me suspect that he was really worried about my fidelity. Justifiably.

I sat there alone as the light slowly faded. Then I got up and started arranging stones from the beach. Not a big arrangement like the `HELP' sign I wanted to be seen from the sky. A little arrangement, in letters about a foot high, made up of little stones. I was just compelled, I needed something to remind myself of him, a piece of him here.

Now that he was dead.

FLASHBACK – ABE (CLEVELAND) – December 6, a year ago

• Not exactly the luxury pad you live in. My windows came with a view of the building next door.

• Do the neighbors walk around in the nude?

• I saw one once.

• Ah.

• A woman.

• Oh. Too bad.

• I keep the shades drawn most of the time. In case you want to walk around in the nude. Sorry, I meant, in case I want to walk around in the nude. I mean, when I'm alone.

• Freudian slip?

• Possibly.

• A friend of mine says that all slips are Freudian.

• Is that friend part of your complicated history?

• Is that really why you asked me back here? To find out about my complicated history?

No, it wasn't. Lust was burning through me. I wanted him to take me and take me hard. But, yeah, if he had a complicated history, I wanted to know about it. How complicated? Would it signal trouble ahead?

• Maybe I have a complicated history of my own.

• Do you?

• That's a fifth date story.

• Touché.

• Should I make you a gin-and-tipsy?

• That's your drink. If you have any whiskey, I take it straight.

• I take it gay, but I do have some Jack-off Daniels.

• That'll do. No ice.

• While I'm fixing the drinks, would you like to slip out of something comfortable?

• You have a fascinating way of confusing a guy. First you tell me you want a no-sex date and now you can't wait five minutes for me to get naked.

• You have a point. Five minutes is unfair. You can have ten.

• No.

• What?

• No. We're not going to have sex tonight. This is not the fourth date, it's still the third. You can show me all the etchings you want, but I'm not going to get out of these clothes or ask you to get out of yours.

• . . . Wow. Okay. . . .Was it something I said?

• Yes.

• About my complicated history?

• No.

• What, then?

• You said it was time for you to get serious, that it was easy for you to find someone to pick up to go to bed with, and then you said "and then what? Another hot body for temporary pleasure? That's been my life."

• Ouch.

• No `ouch'. That's when you won me over, Abe. That's when I respected you for being more than just a sexy body. That's when I thought, this could be . . . real.

• . . .

• . . .

• Can it?

• Up to you. Up to us.

• . . . Keep your clothes on. I'm still going to make a gin-and-tipsy. Let's talk.

A half hour later Seth told me about PART of his complicated history. Yes, Ian was a part of it but he didn't go into detail, just said that Ian was a rebound from a previous boyfriend named Ysidro. And of course he had a bunch of past lovers – well, who doesn't? There was a Dieter and a Caleb and some others and then he got all moody when he mentioned someone named Sean. There was something important about this Sean.

I followed up – gently – but it was clear that there was a painful memory there and I didn't want to push it. I wanted to know more, but knew that I couldn't – not until he was ready.

I realized there was more depth to Seth than I had thought. He had suffered, in some significant way. Part of me said "Warning sign", and part of me said "He needs somebody. He really needs somebody."

Could I be that somebody? Or would I be another in a chain of rebounds?

When I saw that expression on his face, I pulled him toward me and held him. He pushed his head against my chest as if to bury himself in me. I started to get turned on, but this was not the time. That was not what he needed. He needed comfort.

I kissed him. But we did not have sex. I switched on the TV and we watched an episode of White Lotus that I had stored. He didn't like it. I should have known. I offered to run House of Dragons, more his style, but he said no, it was time he got home.

As he went out the door I wanted to kiss him again. Instead I said:

• Some hot date, huh?

• . . . It was just what I needed. Let's do this again. No sex. Just human beings. I liked that.

I liked it, too. We didn't have sex again until the seventh date. But, oh, when we did, it was fireworks.

A veritable Fourth of July.

By then we were in love.

THE BEACH – ABE

I finished rearranging the stones. If I couldn't have him, at least I'd have a memory. Seth, this one's for you.

The stones read:

GIN

AND

TIPSY.

Somehow they comforted me as I settled down on the western shore of the island and watched the sun sink slowly into the sea.

[COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FOURTEEN – DEPARTS AND LETTERS]