Page 54 of The Quarterlands (Dark Water #4)

Alex couldn’t help laughing, mostly because he was amused that Elliot seemed to think his toupee fooled anyone. Elliot joined in his laughter, and they cuddled in bed together for the next hour, chatting and giggling. It was nice, Alex thought. He could get used to this.

He decided to treat being Christopher like he’d treated those dossiers of Tyler’s.

This was his job, and even if it wasn’t what he’d have chosen, he might as well try to perform it to the best of his ability.

So, he spent some time in his bedroom dressing in Chris’s clothes, trying to get a feel for the man Elliot wanted him to be.

In some respects, Elliot hadn’t been wrong.

It was much more appealing to be Chris than it was to be Alex, with all his history.

He’d been with his new houder a couple of months when Elliot threw his first big party. He hadn’t been lying about the costumes. The house looked like a film set, with cowboys, bishops, aliens, and an assortment of historical figures and famous movie characters all jostling side by side.

Alex was barely dressed at all, in a tiny white loincloth and a wig made entirely of blond ringlets, and carrying a little bow and arrow.

“You’re my beautiful Cupid,” Elliot said, adjusting the costume he’d picked out for Alex excitedly.

Elliot himself was wearing a tight red rubber outfit with horns that stretched over his paunch in a way that was unflattering, and yet somehow he could pull it off. “And I’m the devil!” He laughed, chasing a giggling Alex around the lounge.

“I have a job for you, Chris,” Elliot announced as the party took off.

“Offer our guests some happiness dust, will you?” He gestured to four bowls neatly arranged on little trays.

“Croc, sable, cocaine, and ecstasy,” he said, pointing at each in turn.

“Which is your poison of choice, my lovely Cupid?”

Croc. Alex hadn’t had any in years, but now he found he yearned for it again.

Elliot saw the look in his eyes and laughed. “Here you go, my sweet,” he said, handing him the bowl of croc. “You go first. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful on your knees with tears falling down your face.”

Before too long, that was precisely where Alex was. As Christopher, he danced around the party, handing out the ‘happiness dust’, feeling himself drift away on a mellow haze of croc. It felt so good to be high again.

Soon, the tears were flowing and he was whirling around the room, making everyone smile at his antics. He wasn’t Alex anymore, and it was such a relief. He was Chris the party boy, showing all their guests a great time.

Eventually, he was on his knees, as Elliot had predicted, sucking Elliot off, while all around a bunch of people were engaged in similar acts with each other.

Alex soon came to realise that all Elliot’s parties descended into orgies at some point. That was why his guests enjoyed them so much. The drugs and alcohol flowed freely, and Elliot and Chris created the kind of atmosphere in which everyone had a good time.

A few days later, the partying stopped and the holocams came out again. This time, Alex knew what was required of him. Elliot didn’t want him to just do as he was told, he wanted him to perform for the holocam.

Alex wasn’t much of a performer, but Chris, loosened by partying and drugs, had no problem. He strutted and simpered, laughed and splayed, and soon came to understand that there was an art to modelling.

He started asking Elliot questions about the equipment. He’d always loved that point where art and technology met, and the more he understood holotech, the more he was able to give Elliot precisely what he wanted for his shots.

They developed a shorthand and would often lie snuggled up together in bed, talking about what the next shoot should be. Elliot had a good creative imagination, and Alex was able to riff off him in a way that was satisfying to them both.

Soon, Elliot’s work hit new heights. He was being shown at trendy galleries, parading Alex on his arm, and his artworks were all over social media. He was, quite simply, becoming a sensation, and it was in no small part due to Alex.

They went to costume fittings, pored over designs for sets, and scouted out unusual locations together.

Alex pitched ideas, and Elliot ran with them.

They created all kinds of scenarios, including one involving a friend’s tame raven and a ruined castle that was so over the top it always made Alex laugh whenever he looked at it.

It was creative and exciting, and one day, Alex realised that a year had passed since he’d left Spain.

He thought maybe he’d needed Elliot to drag him back into the land of the living.

He’d been in such a bad place in Spain, so mentally fractured, but Elliot had forced him to engage with the world again…

or at least, not him but his avatar, Christopher.

He liked being Chris. He didn’t come with Alex’s baggage; he wasn’t trying to seek justice for his murdered friend, or come to terms with a shattered life. His world revolved around parties, drugs, sex, photoshoots, and nothing else. He was simply too busy to be Alex.

If he was completely in character, he could even bring himself to not notice the black SUAV that was always parked outside, and that followed them whenever they left the house.

That first year passed in a haze. The drugs helped, and somewhere along the way, Alex’s libido returned. He didn’t exactly fancy Elliot, but he did enjoy the way his houder squealed with pleasure in bed. He wasn’t a hard person to please, and Alex had always liked pleasing his sex partners.

Elliot loved showing off his beloved Chris at parties; he wanted other men to desire him, but then he’d move in and make it clear that Alex belonged to him and him alone.

Alex soon came to understand that this was part of the Chris persona.

He was to flirt with other men, even kiss them.

Elliot would see them and come charging over, and massive drama would ensue that always ended in passionate sex.

That pressed all Elliot’s buttons, so Alex engineered these scenarios at every party.

Hudson Brink did finally come to one of Elliot’s parties. He showed up with an entourage of hangers-on and stood there, like the big “I am”, clearly enjoying the way everyone fawned over him.

Alex knew he was the ideal person to fulfil Elliot’s jealous-lover fantasy, so he danced over to Hud with the bowls of drugs, dressed as skimpily as ever, as a Roman slave in a teeny-tiny tunic.

Hud grinned as he took a pinch of sable. “You’re the kid who came to my premiere, ain’t’cha?” He took a sniff of the drug, then leaned back, looking Alex up and down lasciviously.

“Yeah.”

“Gawd, you’re pretty, and those lips… now, they’re what I’d call ‘cock-sucking lips’.” He grinned.

“Oh, they are.” Alex laughed, taking a big sniff of croc and waiting for the high to hit.

Hud reached out a lazy hand and grabbed Alex’s wrist. He was a big man, with hard, solid muscles, and Alex was reminded, suddenly and inexplicably, of Joe. He squashed that memory down. He was Chris, and Chris didn’t know or care about Josiah fucking Raine.

“Who are you supposed to be, then?” Hud drawled, looking at his costume.

“Spartacus, I think. A Roman slave, anyway.”

“Oh, yeah, I see it now. Hmm.” Hud licked his lips. He was dressed like a cowboy, in leather chaps and a plaid shirt, and he was hot as hell.

“Well, if you’re a slave, you should put out for me, yeah?” Hud pulled him in close, wrapped his arms around him, and kissed him hard.

On cue, Elliot rushed over as Alex wriggled in Hud’s arms.

“Oh, Elliot.” Alex was actually relieved. Hud’s grasp on him was uncomfortably tight and he had a mean look in his eyes.

“This little slut was flirting with me. Would you like to see me fuck him?” Hud asked, grinning at Elliot.

Elliot stood there, frozen to the spot, and Alex realised suddenly that this game had a darker element than he’d appreciated.

The lust was evident in Elliot’s eyes; oh yes, he would like to watch, thank you very much.

A handsome stud like Hud, with a beautiful young man like Alex?

Who wouldn’t? He could see all these thoughts flit across Elliot’s face.

“Elliot!” he protested, realising he’d lost control of the situation.

Elliot smiled at him a little sadly, then put his finger over Alex’s lips. “I’ve loved having you all to myself, sweetie-pie, but really, isn’t it nice to share?” he murmured.

“I thought you’d say that,” Hud chuckled.

It was a warm summer’s evening, and they were outside in Elliot’s spacious garden, with dozens of people all around.

Hud suddenly tipped Alex over the back of a nearby garden sofa, flipped his little tunic up, and ripped his briefs down. It all happened so fast that it took Alex completely by surprise. Then Hud’s big hands spread his arse cheeks and he rammed his cock straight into him.

There was no preparation and no warning. Alex let out a hoarse scream, but Hud just laughed and clamped a big hand over Alex’s mouth, holding him in place while he skewered him like a piece of meat.

A little group of men saw what was happening and moved over, silently, like a troupe of ghouls, their mouths open and their eyes hungry. They formed a little circle around Hud and Alex, their hands working furiously in their underwear as they watched.

The croc suddenly kicked in and the tears began to fall down Alex’s face as Hud pumped into him over the back of the sofa. It hurt, but what hurt most was seeing Elliot’s face, his eyes dark with arousal, his hand wrapped firmly around his cock as he enjoyed the show.

The next day, at breakfast, there was a wrapped gift sitting on Alex’s plate.

“What’s this?” he asked, sitting down gingerly.

“It’s for you. A little present for being so wonderful last night. What a little treasure you are.”