Fynn stood at the dock's edge staring into the dark waters. It was just one week before his birthday, October 31st. Halloween. However, Fynn would not be there to celebrate either. There was nothing to live for. Better to get it over with. He thought of the water surrounding him like a cocoon as he was dragged down. Just slip away quietly, no fuss, no bother. The world would not miss him. He took a step closer to the pier's edge. The rain had soaked him to the skin, his fleece no protection, and he was shaking from the cold, unaware his lips were already turning blue.
"You wanna tell me why?" a laconic voice had Fynn turning; his feet dangerously close to the end of the jetty.
"What do you care?" he countered through chattering teeth. Suddenly aware of how cold he was, Fynn found he was shaking so hard he could hardly keep standing.
"Didn't say I cared, just curious."
Fynn could see little of the other man in the dark. Just a dark outline silhouetted against the light. Not so tall, slender, but his voice was powerful in a way Fynn could not define. He took an unconscious step away from the edge towards the man.
"Curious," Fynn repeated, his mind becoming a little foggy.
"You know what it feels like to drown? Not a good way to die."
For a minute it seemed to Fynn he was actually in the water and that the stranger was right. Water invaded his nose and mouth and he was struggling frantically to reach the surface, his lungs burning as his waterlogged body was dragged mercilessly deeper. He gave a cry of distress and found himself still on the dock, but a safe distance from the water, held in strong arms.
"I thought...I thought..." he stuttered helplessly.
"I got you," the stranger said.
There was no rocking or crooning, just strong arms holding Fynn against a warm body. Even if the stranger did not care about him, it was the first concern Fynn felt he had received in the month from Hell. Unable to stop them, the tears fell. He sobbed on the other man's shoulder releasing all the pent-up emotion he felt.
"Wanna give me the edited version? You're freezing. I gotta take you home."
"My boyfriend, I'd only been seeing him for a couple of months, he kept talking about a threesome. I told him I wasn't interested. We hadn't even progressed to full sex as a couple. A friend of his came round and they were laughing, drinking, talking and I felt like a spare part, so much so I hardly drank anything myself. It got late and I wanted to go to bed. Mick said they'd just finish their drinks before they went." Fynn sighed, shaking his head. Even now he found it hard to believe what Mick had done.
"I wasn't happy but went to the bathroom, thinking by the time I'd finished in there they'd be ready to go. I went into my bedroom and they were ready alright, but not to leave. They were naked in my bed, all over each other. Mick said Phil would make up our threesome. They tried to pull me into the bed, their hands all over me. I fought them off, pushing Mick onto the floor and landing a lucky blow that put Phil out of action and I ran out."
"A punch in the goolies will do that," the other man sounded satisfied. "But that wouldn't bring you here."
Fynn nodded, it was exactly where he had landed his flailing punch. He found himself trying to burrow against the man's heat, his voice becoming breathier.
"It was my apartment, but I couldn't face going back that night. I stayed in a motel and went home the next day. There were used condoms and come all over the bed and drink had been poured over my lounge suite. I had to get rid of them both. My fridge-freezer had been switched off, so all the food in it was spoiled. Replacing everything maxed out my plastic and now I'm being made redundant from my job. I keep getting nasty calls from Mick saying it isn't over between us and I've seen him following me to work or lurking around the apartment block. I haven't been in this city long. I don't have friends here, and I have no family to turn to. I just couldn't cope anymore."
"You're tougher than you think. Look, my name's Brant. I need to get you home, warmed up and I think you could use this more than me."
"I'm Fynn, thanks." A warm leather coat was wrapped around his shaking form and he was guided away from the dock and towards a car. By the time they were driving from the port, Fynn's eyes were winning the battle of closing against his wishes.
"We're here." Brant's voice awoke him with a start.
"How did you know?" Fynn whispered, looking at his small apartment block.
"You told me where you lived when you told me about Mick," Brant said. "Dontcha remember? Maybe you were too upset."
Fynn was dispatched to take a hot shower and dress in dry clothes. He had pulled out sweats and t-shirt for Brant, who seemed remarkably dry, and who was currently busy in Fynn's kitchen. He finally wandered back into his lounge to find two bowls of steaming pasta with tomato sauce on his table.
"I like Italian," Brant shrugged.
Fynn was surprised at how good a simple dish of pasta with tomato, garlic, capers and olives could be. There had been little else in his cupboards. He had not shopped, not seeing the need for food.
"It's great," Fynn enthused, taking his first real look at his unexpected benefactor.
He already knew that Brant had no more than a couple of inches in height over him. He also knew they both had a slender physique, however, the peek at Brant when he had changed his t-shirt, had revealed a smooth, sculptured chest and well-defined muscles in contrast to Fynn's softer, more rounded build. His own olive-toned skin, chestnut hair and espresso eyes were courtesy of a Mediterranean inheritance. Brant's skin seemed to have a bronze sheen and his hair was platinum blond and gelled into short spikes. One ear had a row of multi-coloured studs, his lips were full and sensual and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that had Fynn staring fascinated until he realised Brant was staring back, one eyebrow quirked and a half-smile on his lips.
"Sorry," Fynn said, blushing furiously.
"'S ok," Brant shrugged, his smile widening. "Kinda nice you think I'm worth looking at. Guess I'd better be going, although I'd like to see you tomorrow night. Take you out. Show you life is worth living even when things look bleak. Wanna have a meal, go to a club?"
Brant had moved closer and Fynn could see the hope in the other man's eyes. He smiled and nodded. Brant had, after all, saved his life and was very attractive.
