Grayscale Ch4

I'm really not sure why but for me the text for this chapter is going off the edge of the writing space.

I'll try to make it so the sidebar doesn't interrupt your reading.  Sorry for the weirdness!

****

Jack didn’t spend the night consumed with lust per se, but he certainly spent an 

inordinate amount of time listening to Koz’s breathing, wondering if he was awake.

Jack managed to suppress a grand total of three erections by will power alone. The 

morning found him exhausted and full of ironic pride (but actually more sexual 

frustration than anything else). He was a little relieved when Koz suggested they go 

get some supplies. Another day alone with only so many feet he could possible keep 

between them sounded like a nightmare.

Sort of like swimming over to the bank with a nearly-naked Koz holding onto him 

(equally nearly-naked) the whole way. They came to a pathetic agreement to keep 

their shirts on under the mumbled excuse that they were both sunburned enough 

from the day before - but it was still a lesson in self-control. Jack survived the swim 

over by thinking of Smeagol - his go-to cool down image.

Unfortunately Smeagol betrayed him - as Smeagol was prone to do. The image flew 

from Jack’s mind after they reached the bank when Koz attempted to wring water 

from his shirt. Jack got an eyeful of smooth, olive-toned skin and the lovely dark 

circles of raised nipples as Koz fanned the sheer white material against his chest.

‘Yum,’ he thought.

If Jack’s brain were a person, he would have slapped them. ‘Shut up and think of 

Smeagol!’ He scolded himself.

*

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” Jack’s mind was abruptly pulled from the 

gutter when Koz lead him to one of the nature reserves’ parking lots.

“Didn’t they ever steal a car on Teen Wolf?” Koz asked, a hint of a smile on his face as 

he strode confidently onto the asphalt.

“I regret telling you about my love of Teen Wolf.” Jack sighed.

“Not yet you don’t,” Koz said with a dark grin. “Stand guard at the front of the car. Try to look… bored - impatient - like you’re not stealing a car. If someone’s coming I want you to uh… Sneeze? Yes, sneeze very loudly, then make yourself scarce.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t sound conspicuous at all.”

“It’s only conspicuous if you act conspicuous.” Koz said, stalking between the cars and casually checking if any of the doors were open.

Past a pair of black Honda Civics, a green Ford Taurus had apparently forgotten to lock their doors. Koz slid onto the front seat, pushing the seat back so he could get beneath the wheel.

“Holy shit,” Jack looked around the parking lot, but saw no one nearby. Just a few yards away there were campers scattered across picnic tables and kids running around a rusty playground, none of them were paying Jack and Koz any mind. “You can hotwire a car?” Jack asked. “Were you a criminal before you were a hunter?”

Koz’s voice was muffled as he spoke from beneath the dashboard. “I was a cop, remember?”

Jack had already been trying not to be turned on by Koz’s sudden bad boy side, but the mental image of Koz in a police uniform did him in. Koz was fucking hot already and adding in a uniform was just unfair.

“Hey.”

Jack whirled, heart leaping to his throat as a young man strode towards him.

The man raised his eyebrows and tipped his head to the side slightly, his expression open, curious and non-hostile. “You waiting for someone?”

“Yeah,” Jack put on his most charming smile and watched the way the man’s eyes
alighted on his face. His gay-dar pinged.

“How about you?” He asked, stepping forward. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Meeting up with some friends,” the man said, a shy smile spreading across his features. “We’re going camping by Lindor Lake.”

“Sounds like fun.” Jack smiled and leaned in slightly, enjoying the way the young man’s eyes following the line of his neck.

“You should join us. We’ll have a bonfire and drinks.”

Jack bit his lip and pretended a wince, pulling the man’s attention to his lips. “I’m kind of here with my family,” he lied. “Rain check?”

“Yeah!”

Jack feigned a relieved smile while the young man dug through his pocket and produced a pen. “Let me give you my number in case you change your mind,” he said.

Jack stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with the man, offering him his hand. Behind him, the car engine revved to life. Just as the young man finished writing his number on Jack’s hand, Koz poked his head out behind the car door.

“Time to go, Jack,” he said.

“Okay!” Jack smiled at the young stranger. “I’ll see you later maybe.” He winked, flashed those pearly whites one last time, then turned around and headed for the car, quite conscious of the young man’s eyes on his ass.

He opened the door, slid into the passenger seat, and waved at his new friend.

Then he turned to look at Koz, who was staring at him unabashedly.

Jack held up his hand. “I got his number.”

“You were supposed to sneeze.”

“I improvised.” Jack shrugged and pulled on his seat belt.

“My God.” Koz put the car in gear and backed out of the space. “Young people nowadays… I don’t know whether to be impressed or alarmed,” he said.

“Some people can steal cars, some people have mad game.” Jack shrugged and offered Koz his cockiest grin. Koz smirked back and Jack’s heart fluttered in his chest. He covered it by leaning back in his seat, putting his feet up on the dashboard. “You’re just jealous, ‘cause gay guys like me.”

***

If Koz had thought for one moment that the kiss the night before was an attempt at seducing him into letting Jack go home, the thought would have been immediately blown away by seeing Jack actually seduce someone. Jack was so smooth, if he were anyone else, he’d be slimey. But he wasn’t someone else. He was Jack - goofy and adorable and harmless. Koz didn’t doubt the kiss had simply been the result of high emotions after the intense bonding session that life and death situations proved to be.

Koz remembered the last time he’d gotten swept away by such feelings. He’d kissed Astor and Bunny had caught them. Koz gave a full-bodied shudder and resisted the urge to pound his head on the steering wheel. That memory was definitely on his list of top five memories to repress.

He’d managed to get past the awkwardness with Astor (and eventually Bunny), he could get past the awkwardness with Jack. Not that there was much awkwardness after last night. Jack seemed content to pretend it hadn’t happened. Koz was happy to oblige, so long as he didn’t have to put up with any more displays like this morning.

Jack had looked delectable when they’d walked up on the bank, his chilled nipples apparent through the wet t-shirt hugging his body. Koz had even caught a glimpse of pale hair just above the line of his shorts when Jack lifted his shirt to wring it out. And then he’d caught that scent again, the same as last night.

It was arousal, he’d figured out. He’d scented Jack’s arousal last night and again this morning. It was all Koz could do not to kiss him then and there. Thankfully, it seemed the both of them had calmed considerably since then.

***

Koz drove the stolen vehicle all the way around the woods - following a path past Claussen, heading westward on sparsely populated roads until they reached the outskirts of the rinky-dink town between Claussen and Burgess: Whitestown.

Here they left the car and scaled a chain-link fence separating the forest campgrounds from the outside world and ensuring that everyone who came to the park had to help pay to support it.

The landmarks of Whitestown consisted of a run-down, locally-owned grocery store, a Dairy Queen, a completely empty of business main street, the highway, and a trailer park.

The two found themselves at the highway, which was more or less busy with the lunchtime rush, though none were driving into Whitestown. The Whitestown exit ramp ran just by the park fence, curving up and over the highway lanes.

They walked along the shoulder of the exit ramp. Nobody drove past them, but Jack was still more than a little anxious at the chance he might get run over. He’d already been in one car accident in his life and he didn’t care to go through it again. He made sure to stand on the other side of Koz, away from the traffic. He wasn’t taking any chances.

The north-bound ramp continued on into one of Whitestown’s neighborhoods. They left the road before this, crossing the few feet of manicured turf at the roadside before they hit tall grass. In between dead brush and trees that had lost nearly half of their leaves, Jack could see a cluster of motor homes just ahead. He followed Koz through the narrow strip of trees, past lines of lawn furniture and plastic flamingos, towards the last trailer on the lot.

It was eerily quiet and Jack felt more than a little like a trespasser. The trailer park was filthy and empty. It almost seemed abandoned or haunted and several times Jack peered into darkened windows, afraid he’d see a pale specter looming back at him.

A sudden cacophany made them both jump. They whirled towards the sound’s source and Jack laughed. The owner of one of the trailers had decorated their awning with a line of wind-chimes, each made of a different material - glass, wood, metal, stone, even one made from deer antlers - each of them rattling and jangling in the breeze.

Jack watched the glass one, admiring the way it fractured the light around it, before he realized Koz was continuing on without him.

He followed the older man to a shed behind the last trailer.

‘Shed’ was a generous term, but ‘four slabs of wood with a tin roof’ was a bit of a mouth-full. Sitting beside the shack was a chipped ceramic statue of a rather unfortunate looking caterpillar reclining on a large mushroom, a tiny ceramic book propped open on his large stomach.

“Hello Mr. Qwerty,” Koz said.

Jack started back when the ceramic caterpillar lifted its head from its tiny book and smiled. “Hello Mr. Pitchiner,” it said. With a sound like grating concrete, the caterpillar turned its head to look at Jack. “I didn’t know you were mentoring. State your name, please.”

“I’m not mentoring.” Koz cut in. “Can I have my key, please?”

The caterpillar opened its mouth, produced a brass key, and offered it to Koz.

Koz slid the key into a ragged hole in the door, gave it a very solid-looking turn and then, with a surprisingly mechanical ‘click’, pulled the thing open. Inside, the tiny, hole-filled shack was a sizeable, not hole-filled storage room. A tool-bench was lined against one wall, with shelves above and below holding everything from salt cans to wooden boxes covered in foreign markings. The next wall held a line of lockers - some of which also had strange markings carved onto their surface. The third wall was covered nearly from floor to ceiling in weapons - mostly guns, but also at least one crossbow and several very large knives.

“Woah,” Jack gasped, eyes wide.

“It’s bigger on the inside.” Koz and Mr. Qwerty said at the same time. Koz frowned, cheeks reddening slightly while Mr. Qwerty tittered.

Jack laughed and nearly skipped around the shack, marveling at the strangeness. It really was bigger on the inside!

He walked back around to the front of the shack and followed Koz into the storage locker.

There were all sorts of things in there. Some of it made sense: guns, knives, holy water. Some seemed necessary: canned goods, bottled water, batteries, money. And some of it was just strange: a scythe, a box full of what appeared to be baby teeth, and a rocking horse with a sticky note attached to the frayed saddle that read ‘ABSOLUTELY DO NOT SIT ON’.

Jack snickered at the sign, but obeyed none the less. Koz was rummaging around, putting away the old pistol he’d been carrying around since their journey began and retrieving a shiny new model from the weapon’s rack.

Jack took it all in and then backtracked. Fascinating as the storage locker was, there was a supernatural creature outside that he needed to talk to.

***

Koz picked up one of the handgun’s magazines and without thinking, clipped it in place. He stood there for a moment, like one who’d stood up only to forget why.

His weapon was loaded with silver bullets.

He looked down at it and thought about killing himself. It’d been his plan for so long, it was hard to turn it away.

All he’d need to do was close the door and shoot. Only Mr. Qwerty could open his storage locker and he wouldn’t without a next-of-kin’s (or his master’s) order. But for that to happen, he’d need to tell North what happened and North wouldn’t make Seraphina come out here to open the door where her father’s body lay. Koz had been irrevocably scarred by the sight of his wife’s mangled corpse and he knew this well enough that he’d asked North to never let Sera see him if he were killed. It was in his will for God’s sake!

They were in a residential area so Jack could call for help - the police or his parents - it didn’t matter. He should write down North’s number for Jack.

Koz set the gun on the worktable and glanced around, distracted, for a pen and paper. If he wrote a letter asking North to look after Jack, he was sure North would do it.

But that wouldn’t be fair would it?

Hadn’t Koz decided not to kill Jack because he was afraid he only wanted to kill him because it was convenient? Because he had accidentally disrupted his plans? What if he was doing the same to himself? Was Jack right when he said Koz was giving up?

He let out a long breath and put both hands on the worktable; the gun lay innocently between his spread fingers. He couldn’t go home, he knew this. It was only a matter of time before he got loose and hurt someone if he stayed in their midst. If he couldn’t stay and live with his daughter, then he’d prefer to die. But what about Jack?

Jack still needed him. He could hardly ask North to look after him. He’d already left Sera in his care and it was a little detrimental to kill himself to keep Seraphina safe from werewolf attack and then drop another werewolf in his place. He couldn’t leave Jack alone, Jack still needed him.

He couldn’t kill himself for Jack’s sake and he couldn’t go home for Sera’s. He let out another breath and didn’t breathe in again, letting the aching emptiness fill his lungs.

Maybe leaving Sera and not dying was good. Living could be his penance for abandoning her. All the pain she was going through now, and later - when she finally got his letter - maybe he could forgive himself for it if he were suffering just the same.

He drew in a breath and scooped up his gun. He flicked on the safety and set it down again, pushing it away from himself and reaching for his holster.

It would have to be enough. Miserable as he would be, he couldn’t kill himself and he couldn’t go home.

*

“So you watch Doctor Who?” Jack asked Mr. Qwerty.

“The lady in that dwelling watches Doctor Who and luckily for me, she is hard of hearing.” The chubby caterpillar smiled up at him with watery-looking eyes.

He peered inside the storage room and saw Koz set a handgun down on the worktable and push it away from himself. Jack bit his lip. He was as much a fan of guns as he was of hurting people, but he supposed it was only a matter of time before they ran into Jamie and his pack again. He watched Koz pull a leather holster from a peg on the wall and slip it around his shoulders. He put the gun in one holster, loaded a second gun, then put it in the other holster.

Jack’s eyebrows quirked in confusion as he caught sight of his companion’s dark expression. He’d been fine just a few minutes earlier, but suddenly his shoulders were slumped and there was an alarming emptiness to his eyes.

He looked up at Jack slowly and when their eyes met, the younger man suddenly remembered Koz as he’d first seen him: on his knees, a gun to his head. “Hey,” Jack said, smiling uncertainly. “You okay?”

Koz let out a breath. “Yeah,” he said. “Fine.”

He turned to go to the lockers by the door and for a moment, Jack got a good look at his front. Concern slipped into the backseat of his mind as he noted how the leather straps framed Koz’s pectorals nicely and made the contours of his shoulders stand out.

‘Damn,’ Jack thought. ‘You are in trouble, Jack.’

Koz loaded a messenger bag with magazines, energy bars, and bottled water. There was a tin box full of cash that he emptied and another full of credit cards and various drivers’ licenses, each with Koz’s picture on them. Koz picked one that seemed to suit him, then picked out a credit card and wrote the name from the fake ID on the back.

Jack watched this, eyebrows quirked at the illegality of it all, but also a little amused by the blatant flagrancy.

Koz pulled a jacket from a locker at the back of the room and took a pair of keys off a hook by the door. He pulled on the jacket, then grabbed the messenger bag he’d packed and slung it over his shoulder as he walked out of the shed. Jack gave the storage locker one last look before following after him.

Koz offered the storage room key to Mr. Qwerty and the caterpillar lifted a stubby arm to take it. “Don’t forget to mark the inventory sheet,” Mr. Qwerty said.

Koz’s gloomy stoicism finally cracked as his expression fell into a childish scowl.

“If you don’t tell me what you take out - I can’t get it restocked,” Mr. Qwerty chimed in a voice that was half pleasant customer service, half long-built frustration.

Koz’s jaw flexed. “I don’t want anyone to know I was here.”

Mr. Qwerty started, frowning. He blinked quickly, clearly taken aback. “That’s unusual for you,” he said.

Koz sighed and shifted his shoulders, almost like a shrug. “Will you let me fudge the dates or not?”

Mr. Qwerty narrowed his eyes, sizing Koz up before slowly replying. “If it means you fill out your inventory form, then yes.” He opened his mouth and pulled out a scroll that looked far too long to be able to actually fit in his mouth. He promptly coughed up a pen as well.

Koz leaned against the shed as he filled out the form. “They won’t clear out my storage without my consent, right?”

“Yes. Although if you do not use your storage unit for over a year, I’m allowed to obey a blood relative - and as always, if my master asks a direct question, I must answer truthfully.”

“Great, Koz sighed. “As a favor to me - don’t tell anyone I was here and don’t tell them my next of kin has control over my storage unit.”

Mr. Qwerty’s face pinched in concern. “Are you dropping out of the community?”

“Something like that.” Koz rolled up the form and handed it back to caterpillar, who promptly swallowed it. “Which reminds me. John is dead. Werewolf got him.”

“Shall I report a werewolf in the area?”

Koz jerked his head. “I’ve got it covered, but don’t say my name. Pretend I’m dead.”

Mr. Qwerty raised his eyebrows, a cartoon expression of surprise. “You’re really going off the grid, aren’t you?”

“And you’re my accomplice.”

Mr. Qwerty shrugged his tiny, ceramic shoulders. “So long as my master doesn’t ask.”

Jack looked from Koz to Mr. Qwerty and back. He didn’t understand all they were saying, but he was pretty sure he was listening to the hunting equivalent of office-talk.

“Good luck, Mr. Pitchiner,” Mr. Qwerty said.

Koz jerked his head tightly. “Thank you. Good day, Mr. Qwerty.” He started off, heading away from the trailer park.

Jack took a few steps after him before turning with a nervous smile. “Bye, Mr. Qwerty!” He waved and the caterpillar waved with three sets of hands before returning to his former position, reading the tiny book on his stomach. Once he was still, he looked like nothing more than an unattractive garden decoration.

Jack stared at him a moment before turning to see how far Koz had gotten. When he saw the man was leaving him behind, he hurried to catch up with him. He had to take an extra-step to each one of Koz’s purposeful strides, so he was just slightly breathless when he spoke. “So, somehow, even though I knew werewolves were real, I hadn’t thought that the plot of Toy Story might be true.”

“He’s a golem,” Koz said tightly, not even pausing his stride. “The rabbi who made him just wanted him to look relatively inconspicuous in a garden.”

They walked along the end of the trailer park, where the tall grass was snarled around the edge of a high chain-link fence. Falling leaves tangled in the barbed wire running along the top of the fence and a series of green tarps had been fastened to the chain-links so you couldn’t see the interior of the lot. The side of the tarps read ‘Whitestown Scrap’.

They walked along the junkyard fence until they came to a gate secured with three padlocks. Jack was just beginning to wonder if maybe this was a bit of overkill to protect what was most likely a bunch of old refrigerators from being vandalized by teenagers when Koz produced the keys he’d taken from his storage compartment. Jack watched him proceed to unlock the three padlocks using these, his eyebrows quirked. Of course, it wasn’t just any scrap yard, it was a hunting scrap yard!

“You guys are pretty organized.” He said.

Koz said nothing. He opened the gate and lead the way inside. Jack awkwardly followed after, then stood off to the side as Koz repositioned the padlocks. Something was off with Koz, he was certain, he just couldn’t quite feel out what.

The scrap yard wasn’t anything special. It was the sort of place Jack would have loved to play in (and probably contract tetonis in) when he was younger, but otherwise boring. There were busted refrigerators, televisions, microwaves, washer and dryers, and every other appliance you could own - but mostly they were cars. Almost everything was broken and/or covered in rust.

Jack followed Koz as he walked over a dusty, gravel road towards a beat-up, navy-blue mini-van. He opened the driver’s side door and hopped in. Jack waited patiently, assuming Koz was just grabbing something. Then Koz turned and looked at Jack expectantly.

“Oh my God.” Jack’s eyes widened. He pointed - just to be perfectly sure. “That’s your car?”

Koz snorted and it was sort of a relief after the weird vibe he’d been giving off. “Are you kidding?” He said. “The gas mileage on this thing is hideous. This is a company car.”

Jack’s eyebrows drew together as he walked around the other side of the van, staring at the dinged fender. “You hunt… in a mini-van?” He popped open the door and stepped up into the car. The upholstery wasn’t quite to the ugliness level of a tour bus - but it was fairly close. He stared at the radio. It didn’t even have a CD player.

“Why not?” Koz adjusted his mirrors. “It’s inconspicuous and spacious enough to cart monster carcasses around if need be.”

‘So that’s what that smell is,’ Jack thought as Koz started the engine with a noisy rattle. “Next thing you’re going to tell me, you wear leather jackets for function, not fashion!”

Koz smirked wryly. “Leather is sturdier than cotton,” he said.

Jack groaned as Koz drove the van around the lot to a wide chain-link gate, which opened at the press of a button clipped onto his sun visor.

There was a moment of silence as Koz pulled out onto the main road, and then Koz spoke with a quiet, resigned air. “It’s also a little bit because I look cool.”