The Föhn in my Mind
Have you ever seen one of those old film noir detective movies? Where some handsome jackass would step into the spot light and spout something like “my day had just gone from bad to worse as soon she stepped into my office”? There would always be this femme fatal running around, distracting him, or almost getting him killed as he tried to do his job. Story of my life. Except that my femme fatal hangs out in my head sometimes. And my femme fatal has a penis. But whatever. Besides the fact that Michael and I were irreversibly bonded in way which I only understand when I’m incredibly drunk, I spent most of my time trying to minimize his impact on my life. Starting with leaving him and going back home. Then I paid out the nose for some crazy ass old lady to muddle around in my mind; for the sole purpose of weakening the bond between us. As much as it pissed me off, I started hiding. I changed my name; I cut off all ties to my old life. I dropped off the grid. Besides this whole being captured thing, I was doing really well. And the bastard not only finds me, but somehow managed to… to finagle the situation so that I have to come crawling back. Sometimes, I think that the bad luck fairy just walks behind me all the time. And just throws shit at me.
I was working up a really spectacular, and I mean spectacular, hissy fit when he leaned over me, filling my nose with his scent, and cut me free. Utterly shocked I rolled right into his arms. Bastard. As soon as I touched him, that same feeling came back. All my hard work flew right out the window; our minds and souls were instantly pulled back into their natural alignment. I was, for lack of a better term, complete. Oh god did that feel good.
See the thing about having a soul mate, here’s something Disney doesn’t tell you, its really damn dangerous to your sanity. “Soul Mate” literally means your soul is not complete without its match; a fact you only find out when you meet them. So you have two incomplete souls, two puzzle pieces. Well these puzzle pieces do their damndest to make sure that they do not separate. Ever. So they are constantly trying to burrow closer, and closer. Whether you like it or not. Slowly… ever so slowly you start to lose yourself. Your mind is encroached upon by your match. One day you wake up to find that you are never alone in your head. They are always in the back of your mind, every emotion every thought is shared. You become two bodies, one person. If you think that’s romantic, go jump off a freaking cliff.
Besides not being safe for you, it’s even more dangerous for those around you. A bonded pair can be like a mob. Ever wonder why the mention of a mob makes smart cops sweat? Because people loose their ever-long minds in mobs. One person gets angry, then another, and another…Anger overtakes their humanity, turning people into monsters. A bonded pair is like that. A moment of depression in one, bounces to the other. It gets bounced back, amplified. Then it all snowballs. First there is self loathing, then hatred for others, hate turns to anger, anger into killing rage. Which is bad.
So here I was, all barriers broken lying in his arms butt naked like a cheap smut novel cover. My head filled his joy, his love. Damnit. God Damnit. Time stopped. I could feel my power, that lead weight in my chest that never goes away, reach, and grab at him. His arm tightened around me. He turned and slid to the floor, back to the bed, ending up with his legs sprawled uncharacteristically un-elegant. I ended up in his lap, cradled like child.
I regained control of my body a few minutes later, or at least I think it had only been a few minutes. I was straddling his lap, my limbs curled so tightly to him that I knew one of us was going to have bruises. I could feel his knees against by back, his arms around my waist, his head on my neck. All at once I was aware of him, just barely touching my mind. Without warning, I felt both of us hit on the same thought. Chills danced up my spine, his arms tightened convulsively on me. We were sitting ducks. I’m pretty sure that neither of us knew how long our bodies had been shanghaied. But anyway, we had been pretty much pointless pieces of flesh, defenseless. In the middle of another Guilds territory. Michael looked up me, and I knew I was in so much shit.
“If you do that again, I will tie you to the bed. Give you food and two bathroom trips a day. With no internet access.” Thing is, he would totally do it. I ignored him.
“If I come back, we are going to the hag and getting a block.” I felt a nod. Before he could put his terms and conditions on the table, a click echoed throughout the room, coming from behind the door. To me it sounded like the safety on a gun being disabled. But maybe I’m paranoid. Michael looked up, looked at me, and lifted me up and onto the bed. He knew I hated it when he did crap like that. Eyes never wavering from the door, he elegantly shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to me. It was long enough to cover my naughty bits. I looked around the room, but no clothes or weapons had appeared during our little vacation. The bad luck fairy’s doing. The sound of footsteps saw both of us tensing. Automatically, I threw him a thought.
‘Michael? I’m guessing you have something elegantly diplomatic to say?’
‘For your sake, you’d better hope so’ he never was one to be reassuring when the truth would do just fine. But then again, neither was I.
The door opened. I kept my mouth shut for once and let him handle it.
-------
I ended up wearing the High Controllers pants. Don’t ask.
We were sitting at a kitchen table that Martha Stewart would have burned; it had three legs, no stain, lurid carvings, and cruse words in nine different languages drawn on in sharpie. I liked it, and besides Martha Stewart has ties to the devil and K-Mart. The kitchen itself looked like the set of “Animal House”. As I sat too far into Michaels personal bubble, I was acutely aware that the pants were too big on me. Sitting next to Michael, who somehow managed to look catalogue worthy, and across form the High Controller, I almost felt shabby. High Controller Sam, no I’m not joking, was a man of modest looks and serious power. Plain hometown features and matching plain brown hair and eyes really doesn’t matter when you’re strong enough to call city leveling winds with a twitch of one drab eyebrow. But maybe that’s my whole attraction to power thing coming into play.
You would think that I’d have learned my lesson about not paying attention… but I was paying as much attention to their conversation as teenagers do in drivers Ed. Which… is bad. I was suddenly made aware of an awkward silence in the room. I looked up from contemplating my coffee cup, planning on staring at this cool carving of these three people fighting over one pillow, when I realized that I was being stared at.
“You aren’t paying attention at all are you?” Sam’s voice was a drab as his looks; pleasant but not in the least bit memorable. I felt rather and heard Michael resist the urge to sigh and bury his head in his hands.
“No… sorry about that. I’m kinda tired, you know how it is.” I tried for charming but fell just shy and landed on jackass. It’s a talent only a small percent of people have. Sam slowly put his coffee cup down, eyes boring into mine.
“I hope you realize how much trouble you have caused. The fact that you are sitting here is a personal gift from myself. Please do not forget that.” I was suddenly reminded that this was the man who was strong enough to live in the Santa Ana, control the Santa Ana and keep the largest Guild on the continent in line. Wish I’d had that epiphany earlier. Again, its one of those special talents only a few posses. I felt Michael give the edge of my mind a little taste of
“you’re and idiot, but I have to love you because you have some of my soul in your body”. He grabbed my free hand and started rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. Then he started speaking in rapid Italian. Or at least I think it was Italian.
After being around him for a while, I knew it was a good thing I only spoke English. See, Michael is very considerate about making sure I’m in the loop, a full time job. When he speaks in other languages, most of the time to cover my ass, the gist is that I’m cute but stupid and good in bed. Or variations of that. Well I figure being considered great in the sack is an okay pay off for surviving to make another conversation awkward. But I knew that I was going to end up throwing a hissy fit about it anyway, just for kicks. Sam raised his boring eyebrow at me, looked at Michael, looked at me, and smiled. One of those “boys will be boys” smiles that are so plentiful during a traditional male bragging circle. Yep, this totally called for a hissy fit. The soft click of Sam’s coffee cup hitting the table popped me out of my plans for pissy-ness.
“ I’ll give the two of you one day to get out of my territory. Beyond that, you’re meat.” He smiled, a nice clean down home smile, and quietly left the kitchen. As soon as Sam was out of sight, Michael turned to me grabbed my face and kissed me. Warmth flooded my body, his mind scraped against mine, mimicking the desperate scrape of our tongues. We continued for a few moments, not so much concentrating on the kiss, but on how out minds and power were wrapping around each other. Before I managed to get either I or he worked into any real state of arousal he pulled back, the wimp. I stared into his eyes, awed into inactivity by that old feel rushing around my body and mind. We breathed on each other, awkward in any other situation, before he gently let his forehead rest against mine.
“We need to get going” hearing his knee quaking voice so close to me sent my body into a tail spin and filled my mind with rather explicit pictures. Needless to say, all I could do was nod numbly.
-------
Apparently Michael had gotten a new car while I was away. Good thing too, considering I destroyed the last one. Don’t ask. Anyway, I was lying naked in the back seat of his brand spanking new black Mercedes Benz GL450 thoroughly enjoying the feel of leather and cold air caressing my skin.
“Damnit Jack, buckle up.” I saw Michaels eyes narrow at me in the rear view mirror. I simply rolled on my side, flashing my ass at him. He was driving because, on his off days, he tried to be a law abiding citizen. And I hadn’t had a drivers license since my I got it taken away from me a month after I turned sixteen. I was naked because I’m a sensualist who tries to deny himself as little a possible, that and I wanted to make Michael uncomfortable. It was my replacement hissy fit. It was roughly 1:00 in the morning. This was a thing, good since I really don’t like getting arrested for public intendancy. The cops treat you weird. After rubbing myself proactively against the leather and moaning, my attempt to see if I could get the car to swerve, I quickly became bored with his lack of reaction. I could feel his arousal in my head, the stubborn ass.
“Hey… where are we heading anyway? I mean besides out of the kill zone.” I felt Michael sigh in my mind. Silence stretched out in the car. In retribution I wiggled a little and let a little of how good it felt when my penis rubbed against the expensive leather leak into his head.
“The Oakland airport” Frowning, I reared up and curled my knees under me in the center seat. I leaned foreword over the center consol looked curiously up at him.
“You said we were going back to Oklahoma right? You’re not trying to take us back to Colorado right?” I couldn’t stop the sound of worry from creeping into my voice. I winced inwardly as I felt his mind recoil form the hints of distrust and fear I was unconsciously sending out. I was still settling into the fact that it was okay to be around him. Actually, I wasn’t sure I could trust him. I mean, he was the one who was so against putting a block on our minds. And look what that led to. The only reason I ran was because he locked me up like some sort of pet beast. My heart started beating staccato in my chest. Oh God, I couldn’t do that again. Fear was rising in my mind, memories of blood and oppression bouncing in my head. I began to recognize the pattern of these emotions, this out of control spiral. My fear was running and running and running away with me-- then nothing.
At first I thought that I had simply freaked out and gone blank. But then I felt Michael in my mind. He literally had taken control of my mind, freezing the beast in my head. Cool. I was dimly aware of the car pulling over to the shoulder. The car jerked to a stop. He turned to me, cupped my face and kissed my forehead.
“I did some research… and I think that we might be okay this time.”
See, now that was something I could get behind. I was still planning my hissy fit though
I was working up a really spectacular, and I mean spectacular, hissy fit when he leaned over me, filling my nose with his scent, and cut me free. Utterly shocked I rolled right into his arms. Bastard. As soon as I touched him, that same feeling came back. All my hard work flew right out the window; our minds and souls were instantly pulled back into their natural alignment. I was, for lack of a better term, complete. Oh god did that feel good.
See the thing about having a soul mate, here’s something Disney doesn’t tell you, its really damn dangerous to your sanity. “Soul Mate” literally means your soul is not complete without its match; a fact you only find out when you meet them. So you have two incomplete souls, two puzzle pieces. Well these puzzle pieces do their damndest to make sure that they do not separate. Ever. So they are constantly trying to burrow closer, and closer. Whether you like it or not. Slowly… ever so slowly you start to lose yourself. Your mind is encroached upon by your match. One day you wake up to find that you are never alone in your head. They are always in the back of your mind, every emotion every thought is shared. You become two bodies, one person. If you think that’s romantic, go jump off a freaking cliff.
Besides not being safe for you, it’s even more dangerous for those around you. A bonded pair can be like a mob. Ever wonder why the mention of a mob makes smart cops sweat? Because people loose their ever-long minds in mobs. One person gets angry, then another, and another…Anger overtakes their humanity, turning people into monsters. A bonded pair is like that. A moment of depression in one, bounces to the other. It gets bounced back, amplified. Then it all snowballs. First there is self loathing, then hatred for others, hate turns to anger, anger into killing rage. Which is bad.
So here I was, all barriers broken lying in his arms butt naked like a cheap smut novel cover. My head filled his joy, his love. Damnit. God Damnit. Time stopped. I could feel my power, that lead weight in my chest that never goes away, reach, and grab at him. His arm tightened around me. He turned and slid to the floor, back to the bed, ending up with his legs sprawled uncharacteristically un-elegant. I ended up in his lap, cradled like child.
I regained control of my body a few minutes later, or at least I think it had only been a few minutes. I was straddling his lap, my limbs curled so tightly to him that I knew one of us was going to have bruises. I could feel his knees against by back, his arms around my waist, his head on my neck. All at once I was aware of him, just barely touching my mind. Without warning, I felt both of us hit on the same thought. Chills danced up my spine, his arms tightened convulsively on me. We were sitting ducks. I’m pretty sure that neither of us knew how long our bodies had been shanghaied. But anyway, we had been pretty much pointless pieces of flesh, defenseless. In the middle of another Guilds territory. Michael looked up me, and I knew I was in so much shit.
“If you do that again, I will tie you to the bed. Give you food and two bathroom trips a day. With no internet access.” Thing is, he would totally do it. I ignored him.
“If I come back, we are going to the hag and getting a block.” I felt a nod. Before he could put his terms and conditions on the table, a click echoed throughout the room, coming from behind the door. To me it sounded like the safety on a gun being disabled. But maybe I’m paranoid. Michael looked up, looked at me, and lifted me up and onto the bed. He knew I hated it when he did crap like that. Eyes never wavering from the door, he elegantly shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to me. It was long enough to cover my naughty bits. I looked around the room, but no clothes or weapons had appeared during our little vacation. The bad luck fairy’s doing. The sound of footsteps saw both of us tensing. Automatically, I threw him a thought.
‘Michael? I’m guessing you have something elegantly diplomatic to say?’
‘For your sake, you’d better hope so’ he never was one to be reassuring when the truth would do just fine. But then again, neither was I.
The door opened. I kept my mouth shut for once and let him handle it.
-------
I ended up wearing the High Controllers pants. Don’t ask.
We were sitting at a kitchen table that Martha Stewart would have burned; it had three legs, no stain, lurid carvings, and cruse words in nine different languages drawn on in sharpie. I liked it, and besides Martha Stewart has ties to the devil and K-Mart. The kitchen itself looked like the set of “Animal House”. As I sat too far into Michaels personal bubble, I was acutely aware that the pants were too big on me. Sitting next to Michael, who somehow managed to look catalogue worthy, and across form the High Controller, I almost felt shabby. High Controller Sam, no I’m not joking, was a man of modest looks and serious power. Plain hometown features and matching plain brown hair and eyes really doesn’t matter when you’re strong enough to call city leveling winds with a twitch of one drab eyebrow. But maybe that’s my whole attraction to power thing coming into play.
You would think that I’d have learned my lesson about not paying attention… but I was paying as much attention to their conversation as teenagers do in drivers Ed. Which… is bad. I was suddenly made aware of an awkward silence in the room. I looked up from contemplating my coffee cup, planning on staring at this cool carving of these three people fighting over one pillow, when I realized that I was being stared at.
“You aren’t paying attention at all are you?” Sam’s voice was a drab as his looks; pleasant but not in the least bit memorable. I felt rather and heard Michael resist the urge to sigh and bury his head in his hands.
“No… sorry about that. I’m kinda tired, you know how it is.” I tried for charming but fell just shy and landed on jackass. It’s a talent only a small percent of people have. Sam slowly put his coffee cup down, eyes boring into mine.
“I hope you realize how much trouble you have caused. The fact that you are sitting here is a personal gift from myself. Please do not forget that.” I was suddenly reminded that this was the man who was strong enough to live in the Santa Ana, control the Santa Ana and keep the largest Guild on the continent in line. Wish I’d had that epiphany earlier. Again, its one of those special talents only a few posses. I felt Michael give the edge of my mind a little taste of
“you’re and idiot, but I have to love you because you have some of my soul in your body”. He grabbed my free hand and started rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. Then he started speaking in rapid Italian. Or at least I think it was Italian.
After being around him for a while, I knew it was a good thing I only spoke English. See, Michael is very considerate about making sure I’m in the loop, a full time job. When he speaks in other languages, most of the time to cover my ass, the gist is that I’m cute but stupid and good in bed. Or variations of that. Well I figure being considered great in the sack is an okay pay off for surviving to make another conversation awkward. But I knew that I was going to end up throwing a hissy fit about it anyway, just for kicks. Sam raised his boring eyebrow at me, looked at Michael, looked at me, and smiled. One of those “boys will be boys” smiles that are so plentiful during a traditional male bragging circle. Yep, this totally called for a hissy fit. The soft click of Sam’s coffee cup hitting the table popped me out of my plans for pissy-ness.
“ I’ll give the two of you one day to get out of my territory. Beyond that, you’re meat.” He smiled, a nice clean down home smile, and quietly left the kitchen. As soon as Sam was out of sight, Michael turned to me grabbed my face and kissed me. Warmth flooded my body, his mind scraped against mine, mimicking the desperate scrape of our tongues. We continued for a few moments, not so much concentrating on the kiss, but on how out minds and power were wrapping around each other. Before I managed to get either I or he worked into any real state of arousal he pulled back, the wimp. I stared into his eyes, awed into inactivity by that old feel rushing around my body and mind. We breathed on each other, awkward in any other situation, before he gently let his forehead rest against mine.
“We need to get going” hearing his knee quaking voice so close to me sent my body into a tail spin and filled my mind with rather explicit pictures. Needless to say, all I could do was nod numbly.
-------
Apparently Michael had gotten a new car while I was away. Good thing too, considering I destroyed the last one. Don’t ask. Anyway, I was lying naked in the back seat of his brand spanking new black Mercedes Benz GL450 thoroughly enjoying the feel of leather and cold air caressing my skin.
“Damnit Jack, buckle up.” I saw Michaels eyes narrow at me in the rear view mirror. I simply rolled on my side, flashing my ass at him. He was driving because, on his off days, he tried to be a law abiding citizen. And I hadn’t had a drivers license since my I got it taken away from me a month after I turned sixteen. I was naked because I’m a sensualist who tries to deny himself as little a possible, that and I wanted to make Michael uncomfortable. It was my replacement hissy fit. It was roughly 1:00 in the morning. This was a thing, good since I really don’t like getting arrested for public intendancy. The cops treat you weird. After rubbing myself proactively against the leather and moaning, my attempt to see if I could get the car to swerve, I quickly became bored with his lack of reaction. I could feel his arousal in my head, the stubborn ass.
“Hey… where are we heading anyway? I mean besides out of the kill zone.” I felt Michael sigh in my mind. Silence stretched out in the car. In retribution I wiggled a little and let a little of how good it felt when my penis rubbed against the expensive leather leak into his head.
“The Oakland airport” Frowning, I reared up and curled my knees under me in the center seat. I leaned foreword over the center consol looked curiously up at him.
“You said we were going back to Oklahoma right? You’re not trying to take us back to Colorado right?” I couldn’t stop the sound of worry from creeping into my voice. I winced inwardly as I felt his mind recoil form the hints of distrust and fear I was unconsciously sending out. I was still settling into the fact that it was okay to be around him. Actually, I wasn’t sure I could trust him. I mean, he was the one who was so against putting a block on our minds. And look what that led to. The only reason I ran was because he locked me up like some sort of pet beast. My heart started beating staccato in my chest. Oh God, I couldn’t do that again. Fear was rising in my mind, memories of blood and oppression bouncing in my head. I began to recognize the pattern of these emotions, this out of control spiral. My fear was running and running and running away with me-- then nothing.
At first I thought that I had simply freaked out and gone blank. But then I felt Michael in my mind. He literally had taken control of my mind, freezing the beast in my head. Cool. I was dimly aware of the car pulling over to the shoulder. The car jerked to a stop. He turned to me, cupped my face and kissed my forehead.
“I did some research… and I think that we might be okay this time.”
See, now that was something I could get behind. I was still planning my hissy fit though
