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Beyond Darkness

book_age18+
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spy/agent
dark
fated
tragedy
twisted
mystery
ambitious
crime
mxm
passionate
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Blurb

LGBT+ Secret Lover Writing Contest

Orion, He was named after the brightest constellation in the sky the night he was born.

Little did he knew, his life was going to be like a devoid sky, juggling his identity and the world of crime, He was known as The New-age Ripper in the world of Mafia.

Until his life was turned upside down by a mission and in his world the sun started to rise.

Was is Dangerous? Yes.

but was Orion ready....?

Michael was living in secret, Until he's tied to Orion

His past will come back to want him dead,

Now he has a certain someone on his mind who he wants to save,

Two men, Intertwined fates and a lot of intense thrill..

But will they leap, Beyond Darkness?

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Orion~ He smiled because the darkness made it exciting for him to track the small shifts of his prey. Look at himself he thought, objectifying his target. It made him chuckle and his target shiver. As he reached him he noticed the slick layer of sweat on the skin of his prey. He smiled and leaned in and slowly blew on his skin. His target screamed and it made him laugh. This was pretty reactive. It made him want to toy with him just a little more. “Hmm… You're pretty fun, sadly I don't have time to play.” Was that whimpers that he heard? Oh my. He laughed out loud. He almost pitied him. Almost. One of his men came up to him and tapped him on the back, "Orion" He turned around and asked him that he would be there in a second. His fingertips brushed the hair away from his forehead memorizing the texture of his prey's skin coated with his sweat. His fingertips made their way smearing the wetness across his lips and his tongue darted out to taste. His breath spiked as he felt the stirring and need that made him hyper aware of the smallest shake of the little man in front of him. As he was tangled in his thoughts he felt the brush of fingertips on his knuckles, he looked down on the hand which was settled on the arm of the chair which held the man. Without thinking he unclasped his hand and fixed his eyes on him. He felt the brush of fingertips on his knuckles again, the simplest touch tugged at his heart and the corners of his mouth turned slightly upwards. The fingertips disappeared from his hand and he felt them again faintly on his forehead. The darkness made it impossible for both of them to see each other. Usually anonymity gave him a sense of calm but now... He was aching to see the man in front of him, who had dared to touch him. With a sense of vulnerability. He relished the unexpected touch. He leaned in to the touch and his hand cupped his cheek the thumb caressing his skin. He turned and pressed a soft kiss against his palm. The man sighed contently. Why was this happening to him? This had never happened in the last four years he had been here hustling, struggling to stay deep in his cover. He leaned in, one of his hands working around the rope on the man's wrists, He wanted to see what he would do. He didn't make any movement but then tentatively reached inn the darkness and touched his thigh, slowly siding his fingers upwards till his pocket, two of his fingers went inside his pocket and he pulled him near. This man in front of him was evoking something which could be dangerous if this went on. he neared the man, his nose tentatively rubbing against his, breaths mingled and a soft brush of lips. There was a whimper from the man tied in the chair and he was up and away. Out of the room. He waved a hand and the man in the chair was blindfolded, taken away and thrown on the asphalt near a hospital. There would never be a trace of his identity nor he would remember the one he didn't slay. As he felt the hot water hit his back a small tear escaped and joined the rest of the stream. This was not him and it scared him beyond imagination. He looked in the mirror, his eyes red. Streaking a hand through his wet hair he walked out the bathroom into the living room. Turning the TV to a news channel he went back into his room and in the closet to get dressed, searching through his closet he found a plain sweatshirt. His fingers went back to his lips tracing the now void memory of that one swipe. His heart gave an unfamiliar wrench. He eyed the jeans he had taken off in a rush, he picked it up and traced the seam of the pocket the man had touched, Why did he feel that something was odd? His slipped his fingers inside his pocket and a frill piece of paper grazed his fingertips, He pulled it out and it had three letters written on it. Even though he was in his own dilemma he could hear every word sounding from the tv until fire and hospital caught his attention. Grabbing his keys he bolted through the door and drove down to the hospital to find it completely engulfed in flames. People running estranged, sirens deafening almost every scream of sorrow, he was rooted to his spot. The touch. "s.o.s" He ran towards the entrance pushing through the crowd and into the building. Several voices calling after him. Smoke wafted through every crevice of the building. He could feel the scorching heat seep through the material of his clothes and irritate his skin. Coughing and shielding his face he went on through the corridors. His vision was limited but he made out the reception desk. Somehow untouched by the flames. He couldn't risk booting up the computers but he rummaged through the drawers and ended up with a register. Trying his luck he leapt through the pages and found the latest entries. 2:07 AM Wing A 129 He could hear the billowing of the fire, the water from the hose pipe breaking through the windows and the screams and the sirens. It was all deaf on his ears. Maneuvering through corridors and climbing stairs, his body pleading to breathe and the smoke now soot black. The heat was unbearable as he neared the floor which was ablaze. He passed a wide room with doors wide open, staggering to walk he felt an arm encasing his wrist. Even with the smoke in his lungs his fight kicked in and he threw that person on the floor away from him. Turning around he saw a silhouette. He stalked towards the now sprawled person and heard a faint groan and then in a bare whisper, his name. “Orion, it's you isn't it?” a feeble voice. His heart stalled. As he neared the person he made out a lean figure tufts of unruly hair, medical gown covering half of the torso. “Is it you?” he managed to now kneel to his eye level. The man struggled to sit up but nodded anyways. He neared grabbed his shoulders to make him sit up. “Why aren't you outside” he screamed.

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