Gray trembles in Ian’s arms, unsure what he wants to have happen, only that being held feels amazing. Ian gazes at him with open affection, and it will be so easy to—

Something squeaks and scurries; Ian yelps and jumps back, ruining the moment.

Gray looks around and catches the tail of something disappearing out the front doors. “It’s just a mouse, I think.”

Ian pulls a face. “I hate mice. And rats. Rats are the worst.”

“What if I promise to protect you from any other mice or rats we encounter?”

“You’re a dork.”

“A dork who isn’t afraid of mice.”

“Maybe not.” Ian glances around. “But I’m kind of afraid of this place, so let’s poke around and get out.”

“Deal.”

There isn’t much to see. No bookcases or tables, nothing decorating this level of the sanctuary. In the far right, Gray spies a door. Dust motes swirl in their flashlight beams as they approach. Simple wood, plain brass knob, no sign indicating if it’s a janitor’s closet or a confessional.

Gray touches the knob, unsurprised to find it warm. A strange jolt shot up his arm—not strong enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. “Something’s in here.”

Ian nudges Gray behind him in a wonderfully protective gesture, then reached for the knob. Turns it so slowly that Gray wants to crawl out of his skin. The room beyond is little more than closet-sized. A wood podium stands dead-center and holds a thin, leather-bound book. More symbols decorate the walls, and another upside-down cross, this one maybe three feet long, is hung from the ceiling above the book. They don’t cross the threshold, simply look around with their flashlights.

“Why would they keep this stuff in a closet, and not on display?” Ian asks. “I mean, is that like a Bible or something.”

“Can’t be, it’s too thin.” All of the Bibles Gray has ever seen in movies are at least two inches thick. This one is the size of a manila folder, but only as thick as his pinkie finger. More like a picture book or photo album than a Bible. He can’t see a title on the smooth exterior. “What do you think it says?”

“Dunno. Maybe it explains the weird cross thing out here.” Ian takes a step inside.

Gray grabs his elbow. “Are you sure you should go in there?”

“No. But I want to see that book. It might tell us about these blue symbols and our eyes.” He turns to look at Gray, those crazy blue eyes so intense Gray’s insides quivered. “This is why we came here, right?”

Gray swallows hard. “Right.”

“You stay out here.”

He wants to argue, but Ian shocks him into stillness by pressing a fast kiss to his mouth. Gray’s insides twist with joy and delight, even as he jolts with fear when Ian steps into the room. No alarms sound, no booby traps spring. Ian picks up the book and brings it out into the larger room.

“It’s warm,” he says. “I mean, it’s hot in here anyway, but should books be, you know, warm?”

“Not usually,” Gray replies. He studies the mottled brown cover and its uneven surface. “That’s a weird kind of leather.”

“It looks really old. Maybe that’s why.” Ian turns the book over, but it’s back is as plain as its front. No indication as to what’s inside. “Guess we should open it.”

Instead of lifting the cover, Ian kneels on the hard-earth floor and puts the book on it. Gray joins him, side by side, and together they open the mysterious book. Its spine creaks, and Gray swears he smells smoke. Or that odor left behind when you strike a match.

“Do you smell that?” he asks.

“Ozone?” Ian replies. “Yes. Creepy.”

The paper is thick and yellowed with age. The first page repeats the symbol from their chests and the walls, taking up the entirety of it.

“Guess that’s the title page,” Ian said.

Gray snorts.

Together, they pull the first page back. It’s rough, like construction paper, and heavier than Gray expects. Page two is an illustration of that inverted cross with a person tied to it, wearing only some sort of loincloth around his groin.

“Holy shit,” Gray says. “They tie people to that thing? In their underwear?”

“That is seriously whacked. Our ancestors used to hang people upside down on a cross?”

“I hope not. Maybe? Ugh.” Gray can’t stand the idea of their ancestors treating other people like this. And why? He doesn’t want to look at the rest of this creepy book, but the symbol on his chest is in it, and he needs to know what it means.

The next page is a lot of writing in weird, non-Latin script. It reminds Gray of a cross between Egyptian hieroglyphics and Japanese. And it makes absolutely no sense.

“It’s in code or something,” Ian says. The next four pages is the same language, broken up in chunks like paragraphs. “You think someone in town speaks this?”

“Dunno.”

One page illustrates a pit like the one in the center of the sanctuary, along with more writing. Another shows a hand drawing a blade down the center of the chest of the person hanging on the cross.

Gray’s stomach twists. “That’s fucked up. This is like, next-level demon worshipping or something.”

Cold air trickles across the back of his neck, and Gray startles. Whips his head around. They’re alone, but he can’t shake the sense of being watched. “I don’t want to stay here much longer,” Gray whispered.

“Me either. We’re almost done looking at the book. Then we can go get some fresh air.”

“Okay.”

They hit pay dirt at the very end of the book. Yellowed sheets of more modern-looking paper written in carefully scripted English. Ian picks them up, careful of their age. “Ugh, I hate reading cursive,” Ian says.

Gray scoots closer to Ian, their shoulders pressing together so he can see better. “I’m not so bad at it.”

But as Gray starts to read, the urgent need to vomit gets stronger and stronger. Words like entity, blood, sacrifice, pacify, protect and fire make his skin crawl, as if a thousand ants are racing across his body.

“Every fifteen years,” Gray whispered. “We’re fifteen.”

“No.” Ian stumbles away and races out of the sanctuary.

Gray wants to go after him, but he needs to read the rest of the translation. This can’t be their destiny. He won’t let it be. He’ll find a way to save himself and Ian. There’s no other choice…

… “Grayson? You in there? Please come back to me, babe, please.”

Ian’s strong, steady—if somewhat panicked—voice pulled Gray back out of the past, and he realized he was outside again, sitting on the hot ground with Ian holding him from behind. Wrapped up in Ian’s arms, the nightmare of the past wasn’t as strong, but it also didn’t go away. Gray had unlocked his memory of this town’s evil secret, and all he wanted to do was flee. Get the hell away and never look back.

Except he’d been compelled to return, and he didn’t understand why.

Ian. I came back for Ian.

“I’m here,” Gray choked out.

“What did you remember?”

Gray cried out and pressed his face into Ian’s neck. He inhaled the faint, spicy scent of Ian’s cologne, and beneath it, the deep fragrance of sweat and Ian himself. God, he’d missed his man. Missed him without even remembering him, but everything about being with him again was right. Gray no longer felt torn in two and incomplete. They’d been born the same day, minutes apart, exactly thirty years ago.

Maybe this town had decided they were fated to die together, and that could still happen if the entity who’d cursed this town to burn fifteen years ago reared its ugly head again today. But no matter what, Gray and Ian would face it together, as they were always meant to.

“We found the book, didn’t we?” Ian asked. “We read it together.”

“You remember that?” Gray looked up, hopeful he wasn’t alone in what he recalled reading.

“I do, but not what it said. Just the emotions. Terror and horror.” Ian’s eyes went wide. “Fuck, I ran away and left you behind. I’m so sorry I did that.”

“You were fifteen and terrified. I don’t blame you for running away. I probably would have run, too, but I was so desperate to find a way out of it that didn’t involve us stealing a car and running away together.” Gray knew what happened to one fifteen-year-old on the streets with no support; he couldn’t imagine what might have happened if they’d fled.

It was better the way it happened. Ian has had a happy life until now.

“They were going to sacrifice us to Chosenone-ami,” Gray said. “The demon who protected the town. A ritual in which they first cut us to drain our blood, and then lowered us into a burning pit for Chosenone-ami to consume us.”

Ian’s face went white. “That’s insane. Why would they do that? Why would our parents go along with such a fucked up thing?”

“They didn’t have a choice.” Words from the past swirled forth, and as horrifying as they were, it gave Gray a small amount of hope. They’d survived this ritual once. “Chosenone-ami was here before the town was built, and it angered her that white man chased away the natives of her soil. Cut trees and began to dig into the land for coal. So she demanded a sacrifice of blood. Innocent blood, once every fifteen years. She chose her own sacrifice by marking them at birth. In return, she protected the town. No one ever got sick, no one ever went hungry. Residents here lived long, productive, happy lives, and they died quietly in their sleep, without pain or suffering, of old age.”

Gray snorted. “I guess killing one teenager every fifteen years was worth all that.”

Ian held Gray tighter, and Gray looped his arms around Ian’s waist to hug him back. “They tried it, didn’t they? They drugged us, or something, but I remember the sensation of being upside down. Smelling ash and brimstone. Fuck.” Ian nudged at Gray to move forward, then ripped at his uniform. He shrugged out of the blue top altogether, then lifted his white undershirt, which was soaked in sweat.

A thin, pale line ran down the center of his chest, from between his pecs to his navel. “My mom said I had heart surgery when I was a kid to fix a defect. She said that’s why I have this scar.”

Gray traced his finger down the length of the scar, noting how Ian’s skin pebbled at his touch. “You think you were cut? I don’t have a scar like this.”

“I don’t remember, but it makes sense. But why weren’t you cut?”

The memories danced in front of him like wisps of fog, tangible but impossible to capture. “I’m not sure. We did something that impeded the ritual. And it pissed off the demon. Everyone evacuated that night.”

“Because of us?”

Gray grabbed Ian’s hands and held them tight. “Because we found a way to save ourselves from being burned alive, Ian. We figured out a way to be impure sacrifices.”

“Impure?”

“That’s the word he used.” That squared-off head and furious expression flashed into Gray’s mind with the impact of a freight train, and he gasped. “The mayor. Mayor Bowery is the one who led the ritual.”

Ian’s eyes went wide. “He did. Holy fuck, he did. He was wearing this weird gray robe. Everyone in the audience wore one, even my”—his voice cracked—“my parents.”

“I remember this part now,” Gray said. “Mayor Bowery came to my house that evening, right before dinner. He said it was to celebrate my birthday, and he had this bottle of wine. Special wine for the birthday boy. But it was thick and gross, and afterward I was so foggy. And my parents sent me with him.”

“Same.” Ian rubbed at his eyes with the heel of one hand. “They hugged me and kissed me, and then let me go with him.”

“And when Chosenone-ami didn’t accept his sacrifice, Bowery screamed that we were impure.”

“I don’t understand, what did we do? That one kiss in the sanctuary couldn’t have done it. We didn’t even use tongue.”

Gray smiled at Ian’s attempt at humor. “Do you remember where we went after we left the sanctuary?”

Ian frowned, his eyebrows scrunching as he thought. Then those eyebrows shot high. “The movie theater balcony. You said we needed someplace cool to talk.” …

… “It’s the best place, and no movies are playing,” Gray argues, trying to get his friend on-board. They need to talk about everything they read and come up with a plan, and he’s too hot to think outside. And it’s not as if it’s their first or twentieth time sneaking inside.

“Yeah, fine,” Ian snaps. “Let’s go hide in the theater while our parents are plotting to murder us tonight.”

“We can fix this, I know we can. But we have to stick together, Ian. It’s always been you and me, right?”

“Right.” As if on impulse, Ian presses another quick kiss to Gray’s lips, leaving them tingling for more. “Let’s go figure this out.”

The town is quiet at midday, and stifling hot for a late September day. They walk casually toward the theater, then duck into the alley. As usual, the door is open and the faint sound of music comes out of the office. They sneak up the stairs to the balcony without fuss, and then collapse on the floor to cool off.

It’s almost chilly in the air conditioning, but Gray soaks it in because it’s helping him think. His plan is kind of crazy, and he doesn’t want Ian to slug him for suggesting it, but it’s the only thing Gray can think of.

“I feel like I’m stuck in some kind of nightmare,” Ian says. “I’ll wake up any minute in my bed, my eyes will be brown again, that birthmark won’t be blue, and we’ll have an average birthday, like always.”

“I wish we could both wake up where this isn’t reality, but it is.” Gray reaches out to clasp Ian’s hand. His insides tremble. Maybe it’s cheating to admit this in the near-dark, but whatever. “I love you, Ian.”

“I love you, too.”

Those words caress over Gray’s skin and set his heart on fire. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Ian rolls toward him so he’s laying next to Gray, head propped up on his hand to look down at him. In the dim light, his blue eyes shine with a supernatural force that is almost seductive. “I love you a lot, Gray. Maybe more than a friend should.”

Gray reaches up to caress Ian’s cheek. “Same.”

“Really? You aren’t just saying that?”

“No, I mean it.” He bites his lower lip. “You can kiss me again, if you want.”

“I want.”

Ian’s free hand slides down to cup Gray’s cheek, tilt his head. He slants his lips across Gray’s in a soft, yet intense kiss. Arousal spikes down Gray’s spine as the absolute rightness of this kiss explodes throughout his entire body. Ian licks lightly at his lips, until Gray parts them. Ian’s unique taste invades his senses as Ian pushed his tongue inside Gray’s mouth. Licking and caressing, and holy hell, Gray is getting hard.

Ian slides his body over Gray’s without ever breaking the intense kiss, and Gray spreads his legs to give Ian room. Their groins press together, both of them hard, and that makes it even better. They kiss and hump, and then Gray is brave enough to lick into Ian’s mouth, and that makes Ian rut harder.

Until Ian rips his mouth away, and Gray whines. Ian looks at him, lips puffy and wet, and panting. “Is this okay?” he asks.

“More than okay.” Gray grabs Ian’s hips. “This is actually kind of perfect, because I was nervous to ask you to do something?”

“What’s that?”

“Something I read in the translation about the sacrifice. They have to be pure, or the demon will be angry. She won’t accept an impure sacrifice.”

“Okay. So how do we become impure?”

Gray licked his lips, then cups one of Ian’s cheeks. Holding his gaze steadily, Gray says, “I want you to fuck me.”

Ian gasps. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Think about history, Ian. Purity has been tied to virginity for centuries, probably since forever. If we aren’t virgins, we aren’t pure to this demon’s standards.”

“But…wouldn’t we technically no longer be virgins if we just, you know, rubbed off together?”

“Maybe, but do you want to risk it? All of this is insane, but you fucking me and coming inside me makes sense. It feels right. And I love you, so if I’m wrong and we’re destined to die tonight, I don’t want to die without being with you at least once. Please?”

Ian lowers his head until their noses nearly touch. “Are you sure? Isn’t it going to hurt?”

“I am sure, and I don’t care if it hurts. I want this.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Ian’s eyes flashed. “I know. I’ll be right back.”

Ian gets up and retreats back down the staircase. Gray doesn’t want to give him a chance to change his mind, so he slips out of his clothes and sits cross-legged, his erection heavy against his stomach. When Ian returns, he gives a little start when he spots Gray. He’s got big bottle of something in one hand, but he put it down and then he’s on top of Gray. Kissing him to the floor, one hand reaching down to jack Gray’s dick. Gray whines into Ian’s mouth. No one else has ever done this for Gray, and it’s absolutely right that it’s Ian.

They’ve always been exactly right for each other.

“What did you bring?” Gray asked between eager kisses.

“The oil they use for the popcorn. It’ll help.”

“Okay.”

Ian nips at his chin. “You’re absolutely sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes.” Gray kisses the tip of Ian’s nose. “Make love to me?”

Ian sighs and reaches for the oil…

… “We made love in that balcony,” Ian said, wonder blooming on his handsome face.

“Yes, we did.” Gray kissed Ian’s knuckles. “You were so gentle with me. You were my first, Ian, and my best. The only man who’s ever made love to me and meant it.”

“You’re the only man I’ve made love to, ever. We saved ourselves that day, by being together. It worked.”

“Yes, it did.” Gray became aware of an erection pressing into his hip. “What do you say we go up there and have a repeat performance?”

Ian’s sharp intake of breath sent arousal surging through Gray’s body, and his dick got into the game. He leaned in, his hot breath tickling the shell of Gray’s ear. “As much as I like the idea of sinking my dick into you again, there’s something else I’d like much more.”

“What’s that?”

“You inside me.”

Gray’s insides turned to mush at the request, but he shook his head. “I don’t have condoms, and I can’t risk exposing you if I accidentally came inside you.”

Ian went rigid, his eyes flashing with grief. “Do you have something?”

“No, my last test was all negative, but you know my history. I didn’t think you’d be comfortable going bare.”

“Baby, I have wanted you inside me for the last fifteen years. I would have asked that same day I did you if we could do it again, with me bottoming, but we didn’t get the chance.”

Gray nodded. “The lights came on, because they had to get ready for the afternoon matinee. We had to leave.”

“Right. And maybe I forgot you for a long time, but all those feelings are still there. I marked you as mine, once upon a time, Grayson Jones, and now I need you to mark me as yours. Please.”

Gray held Ian’s intense gaze. “Are you really, really sure? I don’t mind if you do me.”

“I mind.” Ian held the back of his neck in a firm grip. “Baby, you have been used enough for ten lifetimes. I won’t take from you, too. And to paraphrase your words from a lifetime ago, if we’re going to die tonight, then I want to die knowing you’ve made love to me at least once.”

All of Gray’s hesitation melted away with those perfect words. He kissed Ian gently on the mouth, and then said, “Okay. Let’s make love one more time, and then find a way to finish this.”

One way or another, Gray’s tie to this place ended tonight.

After fetching a bottle of lotion from Ian’s car, they entered the movie theater through the front doors, instead of sneaking in through the back alley. It was funny to Gray that despite the wrecked asphalt outside, the structures seemed perfectly intact, their foundations untouched. Monuments to the past frozen in time, perhaps waiting for her prodigal sons to return.

And we did, didn’t we?

Ian led the way with his flashlight as they thumped up the winding staircase to the old balcony. No need to be quiet now. It was hot and stuffy, but Gray didn’t care. He was hard, aching, and kind of nervous. For all he’d been fucked over the years, Gray had never topped.

Maybe I was always subconsciously waiting for Ian. I was his first, and now he’s my first.

Ian stepped into the balcony area and immediately started chuckling.

“What’s funny?” Gray peered around his shoulder.

The oil bottle was still there, exactly where Ian had left it. They’d been so startled by the lights coming up, neither of them had thought to sneak it back downstairs on their way out.

“Look, more lube,” Gray said.

“Fuck if that rancid-ass shit is getting anywhere near my ass.” Ian reached around to goose him. “Now come over here and kiss me.” He put the flashlight on the balcony ledge with the beam facing upward, giving them exactly enough light to see each other.

Gray went willingly into Ian’s strong, capable arms and surrendered to his mouth. Ian kissed him breathless, before moving down to lick and suck at Gray’s throat. His earlobes, down to his collarbone. Seducing Gray with his mouth while hands plucked at their clothes, shedding them bit by bit. Ian’s heavy belt thunked to the floor. Gray threw his own t-shirt somewhere.

Soon they were both nude, still standing, and kissing as if their lives depended on it, while their cocks rubbed between their bellies. Smearing them both with precome. Hard, but not enough to get off, because that’s not what this was about.

Ian sank to his knees in front of Gray, and then he did something no one in Gray’s life had ever done for him—Ian took Gray’s cock into his mouth and sucked him. It wasn’t graceful, and he definitely wasn’t practiced, but dear fucking God, this was Ian’s mouth on him. Ian’s hand rubbing his balls, massaging his taint. Ian who pulled Gray toward climax too damned soon, and Gray had to nudge him off.

“I need you in me, please, baby,” Ian said.

Gray threaded his fingers through Ian’s sweat-damp, blond curls. “Yeah. I need that too.”

Ian fumbled for his pants to get the bottle of lotion; Gray knelt next to him, uncertain. And then nothing mattered because Ian was kissing him again, right down to the dusty wood floor. Gray tried to spread his legs and get Ian in between them where he belonged, but Ian knelt on either side of Gray’s hips. He thrust their cocks together between their bellies, so similar to their first time, but also incredibly different.

While they kissed, Gray squirted lotion onto his left hand and rubbed slick fingers through Ian’s crease. Ian moaned into his mouth when Gray pressed at his entrance, swirling the pad of his finger there a moment, before pushing inside.

Ian broke the kiss to groan and pant, his skin flushed and damp with perspiration. “More,” he said.

Gray pushed in deeper, thrusting a few times, before nudging a second finger inside with more lotion. Ian keened and arched his back, no longer kissing, barely moving now as Gray prepped him. Gray curled his fingers and brushed Ian’s gland; Ian cried out and began humping his hand, desperate for more.

After slowly taking three fingers, Ian shook his head. “You, now you. Fuck me now, Grayson, please.”

“Nope.” Gray caught Ian’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Making love, remember?”

“Yeah. Like this?”

“Okay.”

Ian rose up so he could rub more lotion onto Gray’s cock, and then inched down to position himself. Pressure against the head of Gray’s cock made him gasp. Intense pressure unlike anything he’d felt before became his entire narrowed focus, until the head finally popped through Ian’s tight muscle. It took everything inside of Gray not to thrust up and fill Ian; he’d never forgive himself if he did anything to hurt Ian.

He’d never take from Ian the way Gray had been taken from.

Ian sank down so slowly that Gray was going insane from waiting. Every instinct told him to thrust, but he didn’t. He held still until Ian began to fuck himself with smooth, easy rolls of his hips, finally giving Gray some relief. As much as he wanted the bliss of an orgasm, he wanted to savor being connected to Ian this way. They’d been connected in mind and spirit since their births, and now they were connected in body—exactly how they always should have been.

You can’t have him, Chosenone-ami. He’s mine and I’m his.

“I love you,” Gray said.

Ian stopped moving to look down at Gray, his eyes wide and pupils blown. “I love you, too. Never stopped.”

Gray drew him down for a long, intense kiss, then thrust up. Ian gasped into his mouth, tangled hands in his hair, and he held on as Gray took over. Pushing into Ian in hard jerks of his hips, until his stomach muscles ached. “On your back.”

Ian happily complied. Gray knelt between his wantonly-spread legs, shoved his legs up toward Ian’s chest and thrust back inside. Ian moaned and clenched around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Gray said.

“Please, Grayson, need you to come inside me.”

“Soon.”

Gray loved this position. He folded Ian nearly in half to keep kissing him, and the angle let him brush against Ian’s gland. Ian came first, and without warning, slicking their stomachs and chests in ropes of come. The way Ian bit Gray’s lower lip sent Gray over the edge. He thrust once, twice, and then held, his entire body jerking as he filled Ian with his release. Marking Ian as his and no one else’s.

“Do you trust me?” Ian asked, his tone a bit dazed.

“With my life.”

Ian scooped up some of his come on two fingers, then reached down Gray’s back. Understanding without words, Gray braced his weight on one elbow so he could reach back and part his cheeks with one hand. Ian smeared his come onto Gray’s hole, then pushed a single finger inside. Gray accepted it with a soft sigh.

Now we’re truly claimed.

They stayed inside each other for a while, until Gray’s soft cock slipped free and Ian complained of muscle cramps. With nothing to use for clean-up except their clothes, Ian sacrificed his undershirt. They kissed and touched as they wiped off and dressed again. Ian left his uniform shirt open, which showed off hints of not only his scar, but also that blue birthmark.

“Now what?” Ian asked, reaching for the flashlight.

“I don’t know. We’re obviously not going to be tying ourselves to that cross and testing to see if Chosenone-ami is still hungry.”

Ian snorted. “Obviously. What if—?”

A resounding bang scared Gray into yelping and stepping closer to Ian, who put a protective arm around his waist. “What the hell was that?” Gray asked.

“Shh.” Ian looked down with wide, worried eyes and whispered. “That was a shotgun. Someone else is here.”