A Time Traveler's Valentine by Blaine D. Arden

Author:Blaine D. Arden [Arden, Blaine D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, sci-fi, Romance, gay, valentine's day
Publisher: Cayendi Press
Published: 2017-02-11T16:00:00+00:00

THE HOTEL ROOM hadn’t changed since our first night here. Same curtains, same bedspread, same crooked chair in the corner, same door-less bathroom. As crappy as it appeared, it felt like home. This was where we had first made love. And then there was the site. I shivered as I remembered our shenanigans in the grass. That had been nothing less than perfect.

Kabal snored as he rolled onto his back, sheet pooled around his groin. I placed a hand on his chest. The cold had done him no good; he was still a tad chilly, even after the hot, hot shower. I didn’t cover him up, though. I dragged my pillow closer to him, afraid laying my head on his shoulder would wake him up. I didn’t want that yet...

I hovered my upper left hand above the tattoos on his chest. Tattoos for every case he solved. Little codes that would’ve meant nothing to me if he hadn’t told me about every single one. Nothing I wasn’t supposed to know, but enough to show me the rough career he’d had. He had started out as a beat cop, patrolling the streets of a planet that hadn’t even been inhabitable when I was born.

And wasn’t that weird? He was six years older than I was, but born at least two thousand years after me. Sometimes I was more than jealous of him. He got to go places I wasn’t cleared for, since time regulations prohibited traveling to the future. We could only visit the past. Of course, for a digger, the future didn’t hold as much fascination, but I’d have loved to visit some of the more beautiful places he’d described to me over the last ten years. Would have loved to meet his parents.

The only tattoo I could decipher on my own was the one around his left nipple. My name in his language. I’d called him insane when he’d shown it to me on our fifth anniversary, the second time he’d come to me in this form. I’d fallen for the big, burly Kabal, but there was something about this form that called out to me in all its pale glory. Though now he appeared like this every time we met, I sometimes missed seeing the other forms of my shape-shifter time cop.

Below my name was the only tattoo he’d had done in my presence. It had been September, or, at least, it had been September on that planet. Kabal had lost his first partner that day, and he’d been drunk out of his skull when we’d met up. Comets, he’d already been drunk when he’d called me and told me he needed me.

I’d bartered heaven and earth for that trip, even lost a dig to a competitor because of it, but I’d do the same again without hesitation. For Kabal. That weekend had been a tipping point for us. Yes, he’d been grieving, but we’d never talked as candidly as we had, then. He’d held my hand when he got the tattoo, and begged me to fuck him when it was done, in the bathroom of the tattoo place.

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