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Of one thing Dale was certain. He must have, at long last, lost his mind, what little there now had been left of it to loose. And what made it all the more frightening, there wasn't much left in him fighting against this conclusion. No, instead there was just a mix of apathy and that deep rooted damned curiosity which had gotten him into all of this mess. The one which had sent his life into this turmoil from which he doubted he would ever recover. The one which had sent the world spinning in all directions at once, leaving him just along for the ride, clinging onto it for dear life.
A small curse escaped his lips as he fitted the key into the lock of the room. What are you even doing here? came his thoughts. Though it took most of his energy, he made an attempt to banish it back to the dark corner it had emerged from. If he gave it even a smidgen of what energy he had within him, it would only lead to him standing there, paralysed, sinking ever deeper into his own mind. Now there were a lot of things he had to just accept these days but today, of all days, he had no intention of making himself a public spectacle. No, the other motel guests would have to find any other means to entertain themselves than to wonder why there was a man standing before his door, key in the lock but refusing to open it.
With a sigh flowing over his lips he pushed the door open, taking in the room. It was a great deal more spacious than he had thought it would be. Not that the place seemed too much on the rough side, in his life he had undoubtedly spent time in much worse places. There was the usual drab, dark closets and night tables, two armchairs and a deep moss green carpet. Over the double bed hung lamps which frosted glass carried animals motifs. Stepping inside, he made a valiant effort to get comfortable, kicking his shoes off by the door and taking one lap of the room. In his heart he knew it was for naught. As he was now alone, the thoughts were free to roam in this room where there were no prying eyes. At least not yet.
There was no denying all of the mental hoops he had been forced through nor the emotional turmoil which ebbed and flowed like a river and which showed no signs of ever ending. Grief, desperation, anger and in some moments, a quiet acceptances of this new reality. All of these had become familiar companions over these months that felt more like years than anything else. But the one that stung the worst in his heart had not reared its head until rather recently. Curiosity. A will to throw himself head first into scenarios he would never have dreamed up before.
It had all been spurred on by these changes. In most moments he had a hard time really telling what events had transpired and what was perhaps simple dreams. The entire town had changed but he seemed to be one of the few taking notice of it. Certain individuals on the streets would catch his eyes, glances exchanged in a silent understanding. People he was positive weren't supposed to be there. Or perhaps it was right the opposite? He wasn't supposed to be there and their eyes were trying to convey this message. Whenever he had made attempts to recall their faces it would bring nothing but a splitting headache and an overwhelming sense of nostalgia.
Many restless nights he had walked the streets and found places he was positive it was impossible to find in daylight. Houses which windows always seemed to reflect life at those strange hours. Almost as if it was more of a play, a show for him to witness from the outside. A bar which patrons' faces he could never fully make out. Reeking of cheap booze and a sadness which no force on earth could cure. And then the theatre. A building which had such splendour. A smell of smoke hanging in its halls yet shining so brightly on the inside. Hurled in the darkness he had spent nights there, listening to the singers, watching performances which carried so little rhyme or reason to them. And, of course, magic shows.
His body almost jolted in place at the thought, stopping in his endless walk from one end of the room to the other. Yes, magic shows. These cursed evenings of whimsical performances. Perhaps it had been the catalyst for what was now transpiring? That final little push that had sent him tumbling over the edge and straight into the bottom of whatever ravine he had been balancing on the edge of. Down there, in the depth of his own being, had he found that reprehensible inquisitiveness. And at that moment he had not shunned it, not fought it, no. Instead he had embraced it fully, taken it in his arms and let it make root within his bosom.
Another curse slipped from his lips as he raised his fingers to rub over his eyes. Many things he could blame on circumstances. On the past, the actions of others, the way that life had dealt him a very short deck of cards with a smirk on its lips. But this, him standing in a hotel room, awaiting the arrival of a person he had chased for so long and whose fate seemed anchored to his own. That was completely his own doing. No one to blame for whatever would transpire but himself.
“You need a smoke, now.”
Precisely when he had picked up the habit to talking to himself he could not say but at least it filled the silence. Digging into his pocket he tugged out the package of cigarettes, fumbling with his lighter and feeling a great sense of relief when finally managing to get it lit. It was a cheaper substitute. Hauling around cigars wasn't the easiest of tasks and he had just begrudgingly accepted that this was the easier option. For a brief second, as he drew the first draw, he wished that he would have just folded and brought one along. For all that he knew this would be a long wait and it wouldn't have hurt to allow himself a little bit of luxury.
With a bit of mental fortitude he convinced himself to take a seat, choosing the armchair which had the greatest view of the door. The thoughts were ever present, toying away with all the ways that this scenario could play out. Had it happened but a few months earlier, he would have had the exact answer. A bullet between the smug bastard's eyes. He knew this because he was positive that it had happened. Or was that a dream? A daydream perhaps? A fantasy about taking out revenge on this allusive snake.
Irritation soon found its way into his veins, pulsating with a warmth for each of his heartbeats. Why could he never say things for certain anymore? All logic dictated that if it had played out in that way, there would have been no one to call. No one to wait for at this very moment. He would not have seen him on the streets or on that stage. There would have simply been one more body in the ground in some gods forsaken unmarked grave which he himself would just have to hope that no other police force would ever find.
That was the trouble with this town. Individuals who were supposed to be long gone had a nasty habit of suddenly showing up again. Mostly just in passing, short moments in which if he had blinked he would have missed it. At the start of it all he had almost accepted the fact that he was loosing his mind but now, now he knew there was something else at play. Something grander of which he had no real power over. He was but an unwilling passenger at this train which destination knew no end. Perhaps it would be an anticlimactic stop? To just step off and go back to normal. Or maybe it would drive full force into the base of a mountain and it would all be over in a flash. He was not too sure which of the options he would prefer.
But it mattered little. Whatever grander plans were at work were not on his mind this evening. No instead his contemplations were squarely on the fact that he had made a call and invited a killer to this room. A rabbit who he had chased for what felt like at least ten lifetimes. A certain D. Eilander. And he had done so of his own free will. In fact he was confident that his heart had even felt excited at the prospect. A notion which caused the taste of bile to lay heavy in his mouth. It was the flavour of shame. How had he possibly sunk so low as to extend an invitation to this man, of all men, and feel thrilled about it all.
Once again the thoughts trailed back, trying to recall down to the last detail how the phone conversation had played out. Hunched over his desk and listening to the voice on the other end, clawing in desperation to note if there was any tonal shifts when he had made the proposition. “Just not Rusty Lake hotel, let's not get fancy.” That had been the response and even in this moment he found himself scoffing at the idea. He was a fool. A damned idiot, in fact, to even ask to meet up but he was not crazy enough to have even considered that an option. Luxuries were something he didn't allow himself, why would he be giving this right bastard that comfort?
His fingers trembled, making it harder than ever before to pull the cigarette from his lips. Of all the events that had ever transpired he was positively confident that this was a first. He had not extended an invite like this before. And that thought both thrilled and frightened him. Although all other events always carried with them a profound confusion, at least there were small things he could recall with them. Events that had played out time and time again and how there was always the possibility to all so slightly change them. To know that there could be a chance for a do over. But this, this was the test run. The first leap into the abyss without any knowledge of how this meeting would alter everything around him.
“God damn it Dale” he muttered, his shoulders slumping in defeat “why are you getting yourself into this?”
There came no answer, no epiphany or enlightenment. At least not in the form that he wished for. But there was something, nestled within his heart, feelings that he had tried to shield from his own prying mind. So confounding and contradictory in their nature yet blazing with the heat of a roaring fire. How there always seemed to be this pull and push between them. A chase which saw no end. And no matter how they attempted to split their paths it was in vain. As if attached by a rubber band, their lives would collide over and over again. A constant and one which he now found frightening levels of comfort in.
A knock on the door, cutting through the silence and making his heart jump right up into his throat. For a few seconds, much longer than he had wished, he sat there, staring at it. A lifetimes worth of thoughts came rushing like a storm, whirling within his being and bringing with them nothing but anxiety. Should he just leave it be? Pretend he wasn't there? To pull back now when he still had the chance? Could he even fit through the bathroom window? Was there even a bathroom window? Why hadn't he checked all these things before when he had the time? Why had he made the call?
Once more it repeated and his body finally set into motion, jolting from the armchair and making its way over towards the door. His fingers were still quivering as they reached for the doorknob. No, there was no turning back. He had made a choice and that had lead to this situation and now he would have to grab it by the horns and just ride it all out. For once there was no script to follow, no strings being pulled. Just him. And the man waiting on the other side.
Unlocking it, he only opened a small gap before letting it come to a halt against his foot. Perhaps it was a small gesture of comfort, to first check who was on the other side before swinging it open completely. A foolish act, that he knew, as his eyes raised so slightly to take in the sight of the all too familiar man outside. His lips already cracked into that shit eating grin, bags under his eyes yet his body seemed to teem with energy unmatched by anyone else in this town. The suit somewhat presentable but the white shirt under it wrinkled as if he had never had the thought of ironing it during his entire life span.
“Come on, it's cold out here.”
The first words uttered and already it had him rolling his eyes. What was it with this voice, which made him want to punch him right in the face and at the same time do as he was told. With little more than a grunt he moved his foot, stepping to the side to let the other man enter, with those ever sweeping steps. It was a strange walk, one which both lacked elegance yet could not be replicated by anyone else. A bit stumbling yet flowing in a manner which told he never grew into those lanky legs of his.
Closing the door, he opened his lips, removing the cigarette and finding how there were no words. Had it been anyone else, be it for work or socialisation, he would have offered them a seat. Perhaps even asked if they wanted something to drink. But this wasn't just anyone and this situation was so absurd. Why had he invited him here? To talk? Then why were there no words coming out of his mouth. Why was there nothing but that pit in his stomach and the bubbling heat in his heart?
“So, we're finally doing this?”
Each word in the sentence served no purpose except to further confound him. His eyes still locked onto the other man, he tried to rally every possibility in his mind. Doing what? Was this some part of the sick cat and mouse game? An expectation that he would sooner or later try to plunge a knife into his back or punch him until there was not a drop of life left within his body. Had it been but a year or two ago, he would have found it absurd anyone would willingly walk into a situation which would spell their doom but now, now it wasn't such a foreign concept. Not today but somewhere, in a small pocket in time, a place where actions happened yet didn't carry over, he felt a certainty that he had done it. That he had tried to finally claim his revenge on this person whose fault it was that he carried about this heavy burden of his past.
Still following David's figure as he almost fluttered from one point to the other in the room, doing the exact thing he himself had done upon arrival. Mapping out the room. For each step, he felt the pressing need to answer this statement but there came no epiphany. No lightning bolt that made the clouds of his mind clear and revealed just what this comment was alluding to. He could feel how his own lips were still open, like a fish stranded on land, struggling against its fate.
“Do what?”
How his words lacked any conviction. They were low, a mumble, as if ashamed that this was the only thing he could muster up. As reward for the foolish act of speaking, he observed how his company turned on his heel, spinning in place so that their eyes could finally meet before sinking down onto the bed, arms stretched above his head and that grin, ever wider than before on his lips.
“We're fucking or what?”
If words could have turned into weapons, these ones had formed into a sledge hammer which had been rammed, full force, into his own chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. Blinking in pure bewilderment, all thoughts came crashing together in an intangible cacophony. Had he misheard? Was he really seriously in this very moment asking something like that? Why did it ignite that burning feeling in his heart? And why did it have to start spreading towards his cheeks as he still stood, frozen in place?
“Why the hell are you thinking that?”
Before he could even attempt to still his mind the words had left his lips, reverberating within the very air of the room. As an answer the other man clicked his tongue, in that all so irritating manner, his hand rolling in the air a few times as if attempting to wave away any confusion.
“Because you told me to meet you here, of all places.”
“What does that even mean?”
Silence. A deceptive kind and which fragile tranquillity only lasted but a few seconds. Then it came crashing down with David's roaring laughter. Soon it filled the room to its very brim, dancing within the air and leaving the lanky man twisting in place, folding over with his hand slapping towards his knee. For but a short minute, passing faster than he had hoped, Dale contemplated if it was too late to go back on his thoughts of not turning the encounter violent. There was no such option but that sound, it did make him wish he could at least give him a good punch to the face.
“Detective, you need to get out more often” came a final wheezing answer “this is one prime hook-up spot.”
Why the ground did not just open and swallow him, he would never understand. So many times, he had ended up where he didn't wish to or in a place which seemed to just spring into existence out of nowhere. Now all those things had decided to abandon him when he could have used it the most. Over and over his mind repeated those words. A hook-up spot. This was a spot where couples would go to let off some steam. A place that was seemingly known around town. He had picked a place for them to meet and he had picked this one. And this man had arrived under the assumptions that that was what they were going to do. Why had he assumed that was what they were going to do?
For each second passing, he sank deeper into those thoughts, enveloping himself into them against his own will. Why had he asked him to come here? What was it he wanted from him? Had fate pulled strings again? Had something, somewhere, peered deep into his being and seen all these feelings? All the confusion and the intensity under which their encounters always played out? Why were his hands trembling at the prospect? Why couldn't he just leave the room? Tell him that he could sod off? What was it that made his heart beat ever stronger in his chest and that turned the blood in his veins bubbling hot?
“So, we're still doing this or what?”
Snapping his gaze back towards the other man, he observed how those smirking lips were twitching, threatening to burst into another fit of laughter. Part of him half expected it all to be some ploy, a game played at his expense. How could he sit there, ever so slightly leaned back, relaxed and just waiting? What expectations was he holding within? Was there scenarios that played out behind those gleaming eyes? Thoughts of what one would do in a place like this, together? Had it ever crossed his own mind?
Once more, everything within Dale's being went into a tailspin. Such a loaded question and one which once more tried to uncover every hidden corner of his mind. Something had compelled him to call the other man, not to try and arrest him, not to try and kill him. No, this time it had been done from a shameful longing. Like a wave, he let it wash over him, a revelation which made that shame burrow itself ever deeper into his heart. Yet no matter how it ached there simply was no way for him to deny it.
He had wanted to see him. Those feelings which haunted him at times were tied to the intensity of every little encounter between them. Slowly blurring the line, accepting that there would be no end to their roads crossing. They were each other's constant, two stars in the same constellation and who could seemingly only bring more fervency to each of their confrontations. And how they were here. Alone. Together. In a place so far from prying eyes and all the events which had happened and which would happen again.
“So that's what you want, huh?”
Within his voice he could hear a sense of defeat. What point was there in lying to himself? He had entertained the thought now and found within him that same curiosity, the one which begged to be satiated. No smoke without fire.
“Don't go playing that game, detective” came the response, once more followed by the light tongue clicking “not like I'm the only one wanting this, right?”
It was but for a split second but he observed how David's lips twitched, almost into a pout. A simple change of expression but one that he felt a sense of victory over. Two could play the game of cryptic sentences and for just this moment, he could count himself a win. It was rarely that he could attempt to get under the other man's skin, at least in a manner which became visible on the outside. But this time, it had been rather simple. Almost as if the guard had been lowered, ever so slightly.
Still, his thoughts soon returned to reflecting upon his own being. How that trembling had not gone away, how he weighed on his feet, as if standing by the shore and trying to convince himself to go into the cold water. His pulse was now ringing within his ears and he could feel how every beat of his heart sent out a warmth into the rest of his body. Creeping into every millimetre of it. His mind telling him to simply take the plunge. To throw himself in now while he still had courage to do so.
His feet finally moved from where they had been anchored. Without really thinking about it he put the cigarette out in the ashtray and making it all the way to the bed before freezing once more. Stood before the other man, who by now had straightened himself up just a bit, he once more drew a blank on just what to do. How long had it been since he had been close to anyone? The answer alluded him and he soon found that it would have been no help. This was not an encounter like that. There was so much history behind this. Was he supposed to kiss him? How close were they going to get? Just what words could he say to this man?
Fingers pressed against his stomach. His gaze trailing down, he saw how David's hands had moved forward, resting against his belly, rolling his shirt up all so slightly by rubbing his thumbs over it and soon enough sliding in under the fabric. A gesture which carried with it such simplicity yet made his heart swell with warmth. Every stroke of those fingertips were like the flow of molten glass, warm, stinging and still so intensely satisfying. With hands, still quivering, he managed to reach out and stroke over the red hair, holding a few of its strains between his fingertips and watching, in bewilderment, how his company all so gently leaned in to meet up the gesture.
There was a tiny part of his mind which wondered just how it had all come to this, however it soon drowned out as his thoughts mellowed, melting into the moment. His legs finally obeying him, he soon found himself resting on the other man's lap, straddled over it. Fingers slipping from where they had been engulfed in the fiery curls and down his neck, attempting to unbutton the shirt and giving up. Feeling the ever present tension, his trousers now uncomfortably tight and, pushing himself closer, taking note that his company was in the same state.
No words left his own lips as his fingers managed to undo the buttons of the other man's pants. There were so many things he wished to ask, to say, to convey any of this damnable heat which made his heart feel as if it was about to burst. But none of it could be formulated. David's fingers had moved, mimicking his own gesture, his head pressed up towards his chest. Perhaps it was but wishful thinking, but Dale thought he heard the other man say something on such a hushed tone he could not make it out. All he could muster as an answer was a light grumble, one which granted him a chuckle and a light nudge.
By that point, his hands acted on their own, grasping both their members, pushing them together. Such a small thing which caused bother, their breaths to grow ragged, their chest to push ever closer. An act of wishing to break all the physical bounds and become one, to melt together for each movement. Their hips buckling, as good as they could, balanced on the edge of the bed. All thoughts in his mind screaming in a strange silence, a tranquillity that he had not experienced in what felt like a lifetime. All of it joined up by the moans of David, his fingers that dug into his back, holding him in an almost suffocating embrace from which he wished to never escape.
And then it was all over. Who reached it first, he could not tell and it took far longer than he wished to admit to finally regain some clarity. Even then, he found himself resting there but a few more seconds, to really listen to both their breaths, at first as one and then slowly frittering out into their separate paths once more. Another snigger from the other man's lips and a groan from his own was the final signal which made him raise to his legs once more. On legs, more wobbly than he had wished to acknowledge, he made his way towards the bathroom.
“See, that wasn't so bad was it?”
David's voice from the other room made him roll his eyes, his hands dunked in the sink, leaning on it for support.
“Don't go thinking this will become a habit.”
“I'll give you a few weeks, detective” came the mocking, almost playful answer “then we'll see how you feel about that"