Dominion

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• This is a work of fiction. My experiences and likes influence all my writing, so there might be a nugget or two of truth somewhere within, but don't worry, it's carefully hidden... Any similarity with actual people or places is entirely coincidental.

• This story involves interracial sex between adult men. There is lot of crude stereotyping, role play, nasty and demeaning language and other things that might be called kinky or just plain ignorant. If any of this offends you, please leave now.

• If you are underage or if reading this is illegal where you are for any reason, please leave now.

• Your feedback is welcome and appreciated... --------------------------------------------------------------

A flash of lightning briefly revealed the lush landscaping, architecture and style of the properties near the Hidden Valley club. By day it looked posh and exclusive. At night it just looked impossibly dark.

Tariq used that quick flash to confirm his surroundings. He knew he was close to Eric's house, but the curving streets and similarity of the yards made navigating difficult.

He nearly drove past the house. It was seeing Eric standing near the street that caught his attention. As his headlights cut across the figure, Tariq was struck by how out of place Eric looked. He had on baggy pajama pants and a long t-shirt. His hair was tousled and he looked tired. Like he had just woken up from the middle of a deep sleep. Tariq felt bad for a moment, but then he remembered why he was there.

Tariq pulled well past Eric and parked along the side of the street. He jumped out, and tried to smooth down his own clothing as he walked over. He had been crawling around and hiding in bushes on this humid night. He was glad he couldn't see himself approach. For someone who was always on point when it came to appearance, Tariq surely didn't look his fresh best right now.

Eric watched him walk over and flung his cigarette butt towards the street.

"Let's go around back, we can talk privately back there," Eric said, and turned and started walking up the driveway. Tariq followed, staying close to Eric, not wanting to get separated in the dark.

Another flash of lightning was followed a few seconds later by a low, distant rumble of thunder. Tariq saw Eric from behind in that flash, and the thought that flashed through his mind at that moment was wonder. Here was this unremarkable, kinda puny white guy, in his rumpled bed clothes, walking up the long, winding driveway of his parents' big house. Tariq was following him, and he couldn't tell himself why.

At that moment, he wanted to turn around and leave. Being there didn't make any sense. He didn't know this guy. Not really. As they got farther up the driveway the house came in to view through the trees. It was big. Way big. Even at night you could tell.

Tariq looked at the back of this guy walking in front of him and it all seemed wrong. Tariq wasn't afraid, he was just getting mad at himself. Mad that he would drive over here in the middle of the night. Walk the damn-near mile up a long ass driveway just to talk to this dude. Reason and his own experience was starting to take over. He had been on some kind of autopilot for hours, but he studied the back of the head in front of him and everything told him he should be at home and in bed.

Tariq's body reacted to his thoughts. He slowed his pace and finally came to a stop. He turned to the side and looked back over his path from the street. It was dark. He couldn't even see the road.

"Hey, you ok?" he heard from behind. He turned back around and Eric was standing there, so close that Tariq instinctively leaned away.

"Fuck. I need ta... I, uh..." Tariq stumbled over his words. He heard himself. That was all he needed. That uncertainty in his voice, the weakness - all of that steeled his nerves.

"I gotta go," he said to Eric and started walking quickly back down the drive. Tariq felt like a fool, but he felt a little better taking matters in to his own hands. Leaving was best. He could talk to the kid tomorrow. He picked up his pace.

It was now Eric's turn to think.

"What the fuck," he thought. Why is he leaving now? He came out here in the middle of the night, got him out on the street and then leaves with no warning. Eric tried to think what he might have said or done. Hell, there was nothing. They had already exchanged two words. Eric expected this dude to be a hot-head. He had proven that ability. Eric had seen it. But this. Fuck it. Eric turned towards the house and started walking.

Five seconds later he stopped. He turned back to the street. No Tariq in sight.

He said he had something to tell him. It had to be something important to come at this hour. But nothing. Just a retreat.

Shit had been going through Eric's mind for days. He was worried. He was embarrassed. He was angry. His whole life seemed like it was spinning out of control. Simms. This moody dreadhead.

What did he have to lose? Fuck it!

He started running. He cut across the lawn rather than following the winding driveway, feeling the rubble and and grass and other unidentifiable textures on the bottom of his bare feet. He stepped on two or things that hurt him, but he never slowed or altered his course. He lost his footing and almost fell, hitting the side of his head against a nearby tree. The dull pain only distracted him for a millisecond and then he was back on course, hardly having missed a beat.

As he reached the clearing near the road, he saw a truck backing, turning and about to drive away. Eric never hesitated. He ran for the front of the truck and slammed both his hands on the hood, looking a lot like King Kong trying to stop an oncoming train with his bare hands. Tariq slammed the brakes, felt his body fling forward and felt the sting in his knee as his legs hit the dash. It took him a minute to figure out what had happened.

He looked around, made sure he wasn't really hurt himself and tried to collect his bearings. As he did, he saw Eric stand up in front of the truck, using one hand to steady himself. He was breathing hard and looked like a ghost. Tariq realized how close this had been.

As Tariq started steaming, Eric made his way to the driver's side of the Tahoe. Tariq rolled down the window and let loose.

"What da FUCK is WRONG with you, MAN?" he yelled as he slammed his open hand on his steering wheel.

"I'm sorry," panted Eric, still trying to catch his breath. "Sorry, I..."

"You sorry, WHAT?" Tariq yelled, glaring at him.

"You were going to tell me something..."

"I was gonna RUN OVA ya faggot ass five seconds ago, ya DUMB FUCK."

"Please, I..."

"Ya WHAT?" screamed Tariq, not wanting him to even finish his thought.

"You were..."

"Fuck off my truck. Get da fuck back," he sneered.

He pressed down on the gas. But Eric didn't back away.

Instead he leaned forward with his arms and grabbed Tariq's arm through the open window, practically jumping on the truck.

Tariq slammed the brakes again, and could feel his whole body swell in anger. He was going to beat this fool's ass, right here, right now. He was stupid and reckless. And he was grabbing his arm.

Tariq pulled his arm up and away, trying to get some leverage so he could throw a punch through the window if necessary. Eric scrambled to keep a grip on Tariq.

"Get da fuck off me," Tariq hurled at Eric, using his deepest and meanest tone.

Tariq was losing control, but so was Eric.

In an instant, all the energy and purpose drained through Eric's body. He slumped forward, resting his forehead on the open window sill of the truck and began to cry.

"I'm sorry," he said over and over again, through the sobbing. He began to cry so hard, his whole body was shaking. His hands had released Tariq's shirt and were now gripping the driver's door, the only thing preventing him from sliding to the ground.

As Tariq sat there, watching this sad figure, his anger too started to drain away. It was a pathetic display, but the kind of thing even a hardened mind couldn't ignore, or turn away from, or disrespect. Only a cruel man wouldn't have at least felt pity for Eric at this moment. It was raw. Eric was falling. It was Tariq's time to stand.

"I coulda killed you," Tariq said softly, staring at the top of Eric's head.

Eric lifted his head slowly and pushed himself up with his hands. He moved too quickly for his current state, and his legs started to give way as his head began to swim. Eric slumped backwards, and for his own protection had the self-preserving instinct to land on his ass. It looked like he fainted, dropping from view to ground beside the car. With a start, Tariq opened his door and nearly clipped Eric in the process.

Tariq squeezed himself out of the half-opened door and sank down to check on the sitting figure below him.

He was breathing hard still, had blood dripping down the side of his face and looked like he needed a doctor. He didn't look like a ghost anymore. He looked like a hit-and-run victim. Tariq was worried.

"Ya bleedin man," he said as he reached forward and gently touched the side of Eric's forehead. As Tariq's finger brushed the broken skin, Eric winced and pulled away.

"Imma take ya to the hospital, dude," Tariq said.

"No, no!" was Eric's response, as he reached out and tugged on Tariq's arm again, as he looked up at Tariq's face. This time Tariq didn't flee from his grasp. Instead he spun around slowly and lowered himself so he was sitting next to Eric.

Eric still had his hand on Tariq's arm as he tried to assure him. "I'll be fine. I just..."

His voice was lost in tears that sprang on Eric suddenly. Tariq could see him physically get smaller. Tariq only felt worry and compassion.

Tariq leaned towards him, in what can only be described as a half-hearted hug, instinctively thinking that Eric needed to be comforted.

"What can I do, man?" Tariq asked.

Eric leaned towards Tariq and cried in to his chest. Tariq put his arm around Eric and pulled him closer, that instinct to comfort taking over all his other instincts. He had never hugged a dude. He couldn't remember putting his arm around a dude's shoulders. And he had never had a dude crying in his arms before either. A night of firsts.

Tariq knew that Eric needed him. If nothing else he needed him to just sit there now. And so Tariq kept a grip around Eric's shoulder. He almost patted him with the other hand, like you might to try and soothe a crying baby in your arms, but caught himself. This was no baby. Tariq didn't want to make it worse.

Eric was coming back to reality. He tried to take stock of his surroundings. The tears stopped and he shifted a little. He realized there was an arm around his shoulders and the that he had his arm around a waist. His tears and drool has soaked the cloth in front of his face. He felt the warmth and could smell the sweat of the man who had him cradled in his arms. He felt safe.

Eric gently hugged the man holding him, pulling him in tighter just for a moment. He didn't want to sit up, but he knew he had to. He just wanted another moment of warmth. Of quiet and safety. When he sat up there would be talking, and right now that was the last thing he wanted.

Feeling he couldn't avoid it any longer, he released his grip and gently sat back.

Eric wiped his face on his own shirt and saw the dark stains from his dried blood. He felt like he might be sick. His feet and legs and arms were sore. He felt sore all over. He was covered in sweat, which gave him a clammy cool feeling all over in the otherwise thick and humid night air.

Eric was suddenly overwhelmed by embarrassment. He looked at Tariq and couldn't see any emotion or expression. It was too dark. But he wasn't moving away. He was sitting there, looking at him, close enough to touch. He wasn't leaving. That told Eric enough.

Tariq reached for his cigarettes and lighter.

"Ya wanna smoke," he asked quietly. Hearing no response, he leaned over and nudged Eric slightly with his upper body. "Smoke?"

"Yeah," Eric responded, as he started to move, reaching down to grab his own.

"I got you," Tariq responded. Tariq lit the smoke and slowly extended his hand towards Eric. Eric carefully took the lit cigarette, took a deep pull and immediately coughed. The harsh, hot smoke burned his lungs. This was going to be a slow burn.

Tariq fired up his own and sat there thinking about the last ten minutes. His days and nights were certainly stranger these days. And all because of the boy sitting next to him. Tariq tried to think of something else. Pondering his situation now wasn't going to help. He was here. There was no point in worrying about it now.

Eric couldn't help but feel shame. The ridiculousness of his actions and his reactions was undeniable. He needed to do the right thing. This had gone on long enough.

"I'm OK now. You can go home. I'm sorry for dragging you down here," Eric said, his head hung and his voice sounding as apologetic as his words.

"I got ya out here, man," Tariq said gently. "You ain't got nuthin to apologize for..."

"Throwing myself in front of your moving car sounds like something I should apologize for," Eric responded, trying to lighten the conversation.

"Word. Almost running over you wit mah truck is something I should apologize for too. So we even," Tariq said reassuringly, as he nudged him again.

They both felt drops of rain at the same time.

"I'm going to head back to the house. You should go, before we both get soaked," Eric said.

"Man, da rain ain't gonna do nuthin 'cept wash a little of da funk off ya sweaty ass. I can smell mah dam self," Tariq joked, looking down at himself.

"Yeah, I noticed the smell," Eric joked back.

"Ya ain't seemed to mind a minute ago."

Tariq saw Eric turn away, and immediately regretted saying it.

"I'm just fuckin with ya, man," Tariq said as he nudged Eric harder. A friendly gesture. Keeping it light.

"I probably need to go to bed."

"Ya look tired, Eric."

"I am. I chased down a friend of mine through the woods and then got run over by a car. It's been a long night."

"Ohhhh... he still got jokes..." Tariq said with a laugh.

The rain really started falling. They both stood up. Tariq quickly, but Eric a little more gingerly. Tariq reached out and braced Eric's elbow. He wasn't going to let him fall.

"Les get in da truck," he said.

"You sure?"

"Come on, boy."

Tariq led Eric around the truck and opened the passenger door. Eric climbed in carefully and Tariq closed the door.

The truck was old. It smelled like stale smoke and dirty clothes, covered with cologne. It smelled like a young man's truck. It was somewhere you could be comfortable. Somewhere you didn't need to worry about messing shit up. Eric was immediately at ease.

Tariq cracked the windows on both sides about an inch, a sure sign that cigarettes were about to appear. Eric reached in his pocket and pulled out his own.

"I owe you one this time," he said with a cig hanging from his lips. He fired it up and handed it to Tariq, then lit another for himself.

Eric crossed one leg across the other, bring a bare foot up to his lap. He could feel broken skin and the stinging it caused.

"Why da fuck you come out here barefooted anyway?"

"I didn't think I'd be out here long. Certainly not running," he said.

"Ya hurt?"

"Nah, just skinned up a little," Eric reassured.

Even in the darkness of the truck, Eric's pale foot and ankle could be seen. Tariq thought how soft he looked. His skin practically glowed against all the darkness around him.

Tariq always tried to have an edge. His clothes, his body. Everything about him was hard, or dressed up to look that way. He thought of his own feet. Rough, wide and heavy. A man's foot. Strong.

Eric was the opposite, he thought. Vulnerable. He was brave in a way, and bold in moments - not afraid to push - but he could go too far. It told Tariq a lot.

The rain ended as quickly as it came. The cigarettes were tossed out and they were left there in the thick humid air and lingering smoke. It was still and quiet again.

"So," Eric spoke up, "what did you want to tell me?"

Tariq couldn't help but recoil at his own funk. The night's exertions had taken their toll. He needed a shower. Cologne wouldn't do the trick. Hell he might have to burn these clothes.

"Da rain stopped, les walk," Tariq said, desperate to get out and get some fresh air.

"You gotta get out of the street anyway," said Eric. Pull up the driveway."

"You wanna just drive up to da house?" Tariq asked.

"Nah, halfway. There's a place you can park and not be seen."

Minutes later he pulled the Tahoe in to a clearing off to the side of the driveway. He was in the cut, safe from prying eyes.

"Well I can't really offer you a shower," Eric said. "But, I think I can get you the next best thing. Let's go."

"Lead da way."

They walked in to the darkness together, as a far away flash of lightning marked the passing storm.