Assassin [dylmas]

18.

Dylan felt free, he was still trembeling form the speed and the rush he experienced when Thomas drove the bike around the curves of the road along the coast. There was this moment, when Dylan let go of Thomas and put both hands in the air screaming loud. Thomas stopped the bike and told him, that he's stupid, but Dylan smiled. He loved the fact, that his boyfriend cared about him, but he also loved the risk.

They reached the house and sneaked upstairs so Mrs. Smith wouldn't catch them. Each disappeared in his room and took a long shower. Dylan was the first, who finnished and he placed himself on the leather couch downstairs lying down on his belly and falling asleep.

Minutes later, when Thomas entered the room he smiled to himself. He walked to the kitchen, made tea and took a pack of toffee candys returning to the livingroom. There he sat on the bright-gray carpet and leaned his back against the couch. He found a book under the coffeetable, the one Dylan was reading two days ago and opened it trying to focus on the black letters, on the white paper, but his eyes kept wandering to his boyfriend. Thomas reached his hand out and caressed Dylan's forearm. He slid over the man's blcak arm-hair and smiled to himslf. He loved every part of his lover, even this things that might have been disguisting before.

„I love you," Thomas laid his chin on Dylan's warm hand.

He kissed it and smiled to himself.

Seconds later Dylan screamed loud and jumed up. Thomas ladned with his back on the carpet, shaking from shock.

Dylan was pale. He was trembeling and catching quickened breaths.

„What's up love?" Thomas moved closer to the man and laid his hand on Dylan's knee.

Dylan looked at him and few treas left his eyes.

„I tried to kill you I tried to kill you, I just... put my hands on your throat," Dylan was still shaking and glancing at his hands.

„It's a dream, a bad dream," Thomas sat next to him and caressed his sweaty cheek. „Shhh... I'm here," he put his skinny arms around the older boy and hold him tight.

Dylan breathed heavily and he was shaking like from a panic attack. They stayed like this, Dylan deep in Thomas' loving arms, till the older boy stopped shaking.

„Hey, how about you going upstairs with me. We can lay on my bed and you can sleep in my arms," Thomas kissed Dylan's salty lips.

Dylan nodded and they got up form the couch holding hands the whole way to Thomas' room.

They heard the forntdoor opening, but they ignored it. Thomas opened his door and lead Dylan to his king size bed. They were both barefoot and in comfortabe clothes so they just slipped under the sheet and laid next to each other. Thomas streched his hand out like a pillow and although Dylan's head was pretty heavy, he didn't mind. His other hand landed on the oler boy's back and he smiled, filled with so much love, when Dylan just laid there looking him straight in the eyes.

Thomas felt he's stomach moving and his body burning. Dylan never took his piercing eyes off him and seconds later Thomas felt a strong hand diving under his white shirt, and moving up and down his side.

„Sleep," Thomas glanced down and he coud swear his boyfriend was turned on and hard agin. „Sleep little hormonal monster," Thomas kissed Dylan's nose.

Dylan smiled and closed his chocolate brown eyes.

Thomas felt less expoused not being stared at, so he moved closer, till his nose touched Dylan's face. He brushed his lips, with the tip of his toungue and Dylan smiled. The hormones were rising between both of them, but somehow they managed to calm down and after a lot of giggles, and sweet-wet kisses they fell asleep.

„Sit!" the man looked at Mrs. Smith's cried out face. He walked around the huge livingroom cursing under his breath. Mrs. Smith was trembeling. The second assassin was holding a gun right into her face.

„Pretty house Miss," the man stared at the paintings. „Real?" he pointed at Van Gogh's flowers.

He took out a lighter and played with it burning few black holes in the painting.

Mrs. Smith trembeled even more. She had met the killers in front of her own door, when she returned from the morning shopping. They threatened her with guns and forced her into the house. So now they were here, in the livingroom, playing with fear.

„Stop wasting time, go find him and kill him and lets' get out of here, till Zero comes!" shouted the second man.

The killer stopped demaging the painting, he took his gun and walked upstairs. He was quiet. He knew, that the boy had some guards, so he needed to be careful.

The man opened one room after another along the long corridor. The last door on the left cracked and he stepped into the room. He saw a shape on the bed and moved closer. The sleeping man was facing him with his back, and the killer shivered. Wasn't Thomas suppoused to have blonde, not black hair?

The man walked around the bed and stopped rising his gun, but than he stopped, suprised by the image that came to his eyes. Two boys were sleeping peacefully cuddled to each other in the sweetest and most loving way. Thomas' blonde hair mixed with Dylan's night black one, his milky white skin was so bright next to the other's tanned one. One boy was skinny and fragile, dressed in a designer shirt, and posh like a earl, the second one was strong and athletic, very malelike handsome, but with a boyish face, and a cute little nose.

The man stopped taken back by this sight and lowered the gun. He walked back quietly and closed the door behind him. He wasn't sure why he spared the boy's lives, but he just walked down the stairs into the livingroom.

„And?" asked the other killer.

„Done," the man looked away.

Mrs. Smith begun to cry loud and than she screamed...

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Thank you for all the support on this book :)

I dedicate this chapter to wolfofbakerstreet