Author's note:
This is the second part of a 70,000 word novel, which I've divided into seven chapters. All seven have been completed and will be posted in sequence. The story takes place about one hundred years into the future. Chapters can be enjoyed individually, but the dramatic tension is strongest if you start with chapter one.
"After the End" is a genre romance: It is a fantasy about the progression of a relationship, with an interplay of both sexual and emotional elements. I personally find the sex to be very hot, and the romance to be very satisfying. I hope you will as well, but feel free to focus on just one or the other, based on your mood or interest.
A couple of notes on the story as a whole:
-- I am new to writing, so I'd love to hear what you responded to or didn't. I have very much appreciated all the feedback I received on my previous postings.
-- I am genderqueer but biologically female, so I don't always have first-hand experience with the m/m sex depicted. However, I have combined my personal knowledge with research to tell the most realistic story I can.
I hope you enjoy!
Tags for this chapter include: #bisexual, #bisexual male, #romance, #gay romance, #m/m romance, #future, #post-apocalyptic, #dystopian, #novel
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Avery:
Julian woke me while it was still dark. Memories from last night -- his mouth on me, his fingers inside me -- rushed back and made me shy. There wasn't time to dwell on it, though. We needed to be packed and away by mid-morning, and if all of Sabine Ridge wasn't going to know he'd spent the night with me, he had to be out of my tent before anyone started looking for him. He pulled on his clothes, gave me a lingering kiss, and left.
I had no time to waste, either. I scrambled around camp, handing off responsibilities and gathering my share of supplies for the next few weeks, adding them to the rest of the mission team's. Rowan found me packing rations in the abandoned barn we used for storage. Her blonde hair was twisted away from her face, hanging long and loose down her back. As always, she seemed blissfully unaware of her bombshell looks. She turned a lot of heads, including mine, but romance was rarely on her agenda. We'd clashed, at first, until I learned to see her strong personality as an advantage rather than an obstacle. By then, it was a bit too late for casual sex.
"I just heard that you're leaving," Rowan accused. "and not even from you." She was at least five inches shorter than me, but she never seemed it when she wore that intense expression. She ordered around young messengers and fired pointed questions at the head of our governing council with equal ease. I would miss that unapologetic boldness.
"Sorry," I said, pulling a crate down from the shelf and counting out some strips of smoked boar meat. "I only got permission last night; I haven't had a chance."
"I thought the council decided to keep you here. Delta is going -- why do you have to go too?"
I kept my back to her while I composed my answer. Rowan knew me well and was hard to lie to. I wasn't ready for her to find out that Delta -- Julian, as I now knew him --
was
the reason I had to go.
"I volunteered. Establishing another base is critical to our long-term survival. I want to help."
She looked thoughtful when I turned to stuff the cured meat into a cloth pouch next to dried berries I'd already loaded into my pack.
"Could you let Lamont know tonight?" I asked to distract her from contemplating my motives. "He's already out with the hunters." Lamont was the other friend I would miss the most. We didn't talk a lot, but he had been a steadying presence through unsteady years. We'd logged countless long hours of labor side by side, and they seemed to go by quicker when he was there.
Rowan nodded, then tilted her head mischievously. "How will we get anything done without those patented motivational speeches of yours?"
I smiled back and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sure you haven't heard the last of them. We'll see each other again."
"Take care of yourself, and make sure we do."
The trek north was slow and weary. Though the September days were getting shorter, we sweltered through the afternoons. Some days we were harassed by storms; others we struggled to find paths clear enough for our pack animals. More than once, we were ambushed by nomadic crews greedy for our supplies. Those types were common in the vacant land around here. They considered murder a small price to pay for food they didn't have to grow or gather themselves. But we were well-armed, and we had Julian, so we managed to avoid any serious losses.
About thirty people had been chosen to establish the second base: farmers, hunters, craftspeople, and lots of security. Our team stuck close for safety, sharing the daily chores of food, water, shelter, and defense. We covered about twenty miles on a good day, and there wasn't any downtime. The country we travelled grew increasingly unfamiliar away from Sabine Ridge, so our path became less linear. We scouted more, sometimes losing whole days retracing our steps to avoid impassable cliffs, wild rivers, or unfriendly residents.
At first, I was excited about adventuring alongside Julian. Remembering the way he had looked at me and touched me gave me a constant, low-level buzz. There wasn't really an opportunity to talk to him, though, or to be alone with him. I couldn't figure out a way to approach him without attracting the notice of our companions, and he never sought me out. He spoke to me rarely, and only about the tasks in front of us. For all I could tell, our night together might never have happened.
As the days went by, the vividness of that last day at Sabine Ridge began to fade. With nothing else to do as I trekked up wooded hills and slogged through marshes, I re-examined the memories, stripping them down. Yeah, he'd kissed me like I mattered, and wrapped me in his arms like he cared, and stayed with me all night because he wanted to. But that didn't necessarily mean anything. For all I knew, he'd done those things with lots of people in private, and then ignored them afterward. Maybe that's why he'd suggested keeping our "involvement," whatever that was, secret.
Maybe the whole thing had been overblown by the drama of our looming separation. Maybe I had been right all along, and he had no more interest in me than he did in anyone. Maybe he just enjoyed luring straight men into gay sex. Maybe it was only my virgin ass he wanted. That possibility bothered me worst of all.
I tried to remind myself that his indifferent behavior might just be an effort to stay under the radar. However, with nothing but his impersonal commands and my probably-unreliable impressions from last week to go by, that seemed a very unlikely explanation. I watched him stalk through the forest with perfect control, face set in grim lines, eyes scanning ceaselessly for danger. His preternatural self-possession inspired both awe and despair. He was only four years older than me, yet he seemed as unreachable as one of the demigods of myth, born of divine Olympian strength. What would such a man want with me, a mere earth-bound human?
I wished bitterly that I'd never said anything to him. At least before, Julian hadn't known that his apathy toward me meant anything. Now, his rejection had to be intentional, which was both devastating and humiliating.
The details of our journey lost their focus. I stopped speaking unless spoken to. All I wanted was to get to wherever we were going, so that I didn't have to walk in front of him, or behind him, all day. I tried not to imagine how stupid he must think I was -- following him across the state over an unrequited infatuation. I tried not to think at all.
Nights, we were all too tired to spend any more time than necessary setting up camp, not to mention tearing it down in the morning. We slept two or three to a tent to lighten the workload, with assignments made randomly each day, a system Julian has established to prevent conflicts. In some ways, nights were worse than days, because then there was nothing to distract from the memories. No matter how desperately I sought the oblivion of sleep, I always ended up reliving Julian's gentle words, the safety of his embrace, and worst, his addictively erotic hands and mouth. Which got me achingly hard, with no privacy to alleviate the tension. Every night, I was tormented by the ghost sensations of Julian stroking my skin, licking my tip, finding that electric place inside me...
The long days got even longer.
Six days into our journey, chance paired me with Julian for the night. As soon as I heard, anxiety began simmering in my stomach. I dragged out my evening chores, ate my supper slowly, and joined a debate with a couple of others by the fire about the merits of settling in a valley versus on a hilltop. Finally, everyone turned in, and I dragged myself to the tent I was to share with the man who didn't want me.
Julian was sitting on his bedroll when I came in. I laid out my own, pulled off my boots, and sat down reluctantly. For the first time in a week, he smiled. He started to reach for me, but I flinched away.
"What's wrong?" he asked, as if there could possibly be any question.
"Nothing." I didn't look at him.
Julian watched me for a moment. "Did you lose interest in me already?"
